I Want Rafe And Reader At Midsummers

i want rafe and reader at midsummers 😩😩

i did with shy reader being nervous before! hope this is okay ♡

a big public event—and that too on rafe's arm for the first time in front of his family and all of his friends, along with everyone you seemed to know too. it was enough to have you in hysterics, but you kept all the turmoil in your brain inside, not wanting rafe to think you couldn't handle this.

rafe had invited you for a reason. the last thing you wanted to do was disappoint him, but your own nerves were taking over.

what if you did something wrong? like embarrassing yourself and rafe in front of everyone. or worse, if you said the wrong thing or froze up in an important moment? the thoughts clouded your mind, made everything seem hazy in the days leading up to the party.

you'd been to midsummers only once before—forgoing the other years since going out to a big party with the entire town didn't seem appealing at all, only going if your parents dragged you.

but this year was special—your first with rafe, and he had cared enough to ask you along, as his date. you'd gone to the shops and picked out a pretty white dress and blue shoes to match him, nails painted and hair done.

even now, all dressed up and waiting in your bedroom for rafe to come get you, you debated if you could really do this. so lost in your thoughts, applying layers of lip gloss and staring in the mirror to catch any last minute imperfection, you don't even hear rafe come in.

"c'mon, kid. ready? car's runnin'."

you turn to look—like always, rafe looks so handsome your heart hurts. he gets closer, and you want to shy away, maybe crawl under the sheets with him and wake up tomorrow morning after this whole thing is over, but you refrain. rafe kneels down next to where you're seated on the vanity, a hand on your knee.

"you look beautiful."

the way he says it, you believe him.

"thanks," you breathe out, still staring down at him.

"c'mon. don't wanna be late, right?" nodding, you follow him downstairs. when the two of you arrive at the party, your heart is thudding in your chest. you grip his arm tight before he can lead you in, moving to the side of the entrance.

"i-i just need a minute, please. i-"

"s'okay. something wrong?" rafe leans in to ask, and you feel flushed all over again. he cares, and all you want is to please him, make him feel like he doesn't have to worry about you tonight. you swallow uncomfortabtly.

"yes. i just-i'm.. being me. sorry."

"don't say sorry." rafe does the thing, the thing that always makes you melt, taking your chin into his hand and tilting your head up so he can look at you. "you wanna leave?"

"no, no, i- we just got here. i can do it. this is important to you."

"you're important to me. not this crap. you wanna go home? i'll take you now."

when he says it, you feel like you're floating. you shake your head, following rafe in, and though for the last week you'd been scared about this very moment, it doesn't feel so bad now that rafe's reassured you. he's good like that, good for you, calming you down instantly.

you sip on a drink and stay attached to rafe's arm—briefly wondering if he wants you to go mingle alone. but when you try to pull away, he doesn't let you go, hand wandering to your waist and holding you there firmly.

you smile up at him while he's in conversation with someone, and though he's still talking, rafe takes the minute to look down and smile at you.

𝑠𝜏𝑢𝜌𝜄𝜕 (18+) ᯓ★

summary: after you didn't listen to daryl during a run, causing you to almost die, daryl's concern turned into anger, which led to a high-tension argument with a happy ending. content: twd blood and gore, walkers, implications of suicide, smut (oral m receiving, fingering, unprotected p in v, breeding :)), i don't know how to do warnings. pairing: daryl dixon x fem! reader. setting: prison era. ─ i actually don't hc daryl as rough or very dominant in bed but it's fun to write different things every once in a while. enjoy!

maggie and glenn had spotted an abandoned apartment complex some miles from the prison that you hadn't searched yet on the last run they made two weeks ago, so the couple, plus daryl and you went to scavenge the place this time.

maggie and glenn were on the first floor, and you were on the second with daryl.

“i'm gonna check the next one!” you announced to daryl, who was taking his sweet time searching again the places you had already searched, claiming you were not careful enough.

daryl was not lying, but the place was kind of big, and your patience was officially gone now as the second-hour mark of you all being in the location was coming close.

“wait for me, place's too big,” his gruff voice responded from the other room.

“aye, captain,” you yelled back, sending a mock salute in daryl's direction, even though he was out of sight.

“i mean it!” he added, as if sensing your intention to not listen.

you rolled your eyes and walked down the hall toward the—finally—last apartment, twisting the door open slowly. “hello?” you called softly in case there was a walker waiting on the other side. silence greeted you, but your machete remained raised defensively.

already familiar with the layout, you went ahead to check the kitchen cabinets, whispering to yourself “nice,” when you found an unopened bottle of vitamins that were still good and a pack of seeds of different herbs.

you put the stuff in your backpack and headed to the bathroom, stopping a couple of steps away from the ajar door when you caught a glimpse of some movement from the inside.

drawing your machete out again, raising on defense, you pushed the door open, ready to stab the dead geek straight in the head when a walker shorter than you expected lunged toward you, making you gasp. three others behind it followed with their jaws already hungrily biting on air.

everything happened really fast.

you tried to stab the first one with panicked fingers, instead somehow stabbing its shirt into the wall with enough force to keep it pinned there. bye-bye machete, though.

your eyes shot back to the rest, and that's when you noticed all of them had a slit throat. they looked young and skinny, only two of them taller than you. probably teens who were surviving together and gave up. it made your stomach turn.

they were also pretty fast and strong, probably recently turned.

walking away without taking your eyes off them, you reached for your knife and stabbed the blade hard into the second walker's brain with a spray of blood onto your shirt. it fell limp next to you as one of the other three walkers, eager and hungry, tackled you to the ground, the fourth one clumsily falling on top and leaving you caged beneath snapping jaws.

“DARYL,” you yelled, terrified. it felt like a big effort and not loud enough from the weight of the two living corpses pressing onto your chest, which felt like they were directly constricting your lungs and arms.

with your left hand, you pushed away the walker that was right on top of you by the forehead, while you stabbed it with your right hand from from below the jaw, failing to reach the brain, but distracting it enough to stop it from trying to bite you.

that distraction and a sudden rush of adrenaline gave you enough strength to push them both off your body, rushing away from them and snatching the machete off the one pinned to the wall as you quickly shut the door on their faces, locking yourself in the bathroom.

your hands shook as you walked backward, your knuckles white from how hard you griped your weapon's handle. you stared at the door with wide eyes, your heart thumping so loud you could barely hear as they growled, moaned, and knocked and scratched on the door.

the cold tiled wall touched your back, making you jump, and then you heard the unmistakable twang of daryl's crossbow. thump. the wet shlick of a knife twice and the sounds of more bodies hitting the ground.

you released your breath as you watched the doorknob being turned, restricted by the lock. you ran to open the door, eyebrows coming together and upwards, scared and apologetic eyes meeting his angry blue ones.

“yea hurt?”

“no.” your voice was so small.

silence lingered for a minute. you were just about to speak again but he beat you to it. loud and angered. “YER SO STUPID,” daryl barked, chest heaving. “TOLD YA TO WAIT, WHY CAN'T YEA LISTEN?”

the floor was suddenly more than interesting, tears welling in your eyes as you chewed on your bottom lip.

you heard him huff in annoyance before pacing left to right while glaring daggers at you. you knew perfectly well that this was him being concerned and scared of almost losing you, but it still made your chest feel tight and your lips pout.

daryl approached you, cupping your chin to make you look at him. his eyes were dark, the anger masking concern. “yea enjoy makin' me worry, peach?” his voice was husky and low, as his eyes scanned your face and neck slowly, scanning for bites or scratches, “not listening ta me, ya like tha'? bein' a fuckin' brat, yea 'njoy it, dontcha?”

you shook your head quickly, gulping with nerves.

“nah?” he asked, eyes squinting and head tilting as if saying he wasn't buying it. “hmm?” he asked demandingly, shaking your chin gently but firmly.

a tear rolled down your cheek, and his gaze was fixed on it soon. he dried it with his thumb, caressing the skin while he observed the wet trail it left. now that he knew for sure you weren't hurt, he couldn't help but relax, maybe enjoy the privacy you got in this big ass apartment.

“no, no. i'm sorry, i'm really sorry,” you cried.

“sorry? yeah? yer real sorry fer scaring the shit outta me?”

“yes, i'm sorry! i'm really sorry, dar.”

daryl's hand dropped from your chin, eyeing you carefully, head going back slightly with a predatory-like grace.

“dun' think yer sorry. think yer gon' do it again, yea never listen,” he said in a low voice, turning his back to you and walking away into the living room. your legs started following him before you even realized it.

“i'm sorry, i swear!”

daryl ignored you, taking a seat on the green sofa in the living room, manspreading so very obviously intentionally, and your eyes couldn't help but stare as his hips went slightly up as he adjusted himself, letting his hand linger on his crotch. “how sorry?”

one look at his narrowed, stormy eyes and you were on your knees, hands sliding up from his knees to his thighs.

“very sorry.”

his gaze dropped for a moment to the growing bulge in his pants and the back to your eyes. a silent invitation; more like a command, and you'd gladly indulge.

eager hands went to undo his belt and pants, pulling them down, along with his boxers in one swift motion, freeing his almost fully-hard cock. you licked your lips at the sight, leaning forward to kiss his angry red tip. you peppered soft kisses on his tip and down the base of his length, looking up at him with the sweetest doe eyes you could muster.

he breathed heavily, his nostrils flaring. slowly, those pecks turned into open-mouthed kisses and soon you were making out with his tip, “mhm,” you heard him hum, closing his eyes and throwing his head back with a smirk on his face.

you savored the pre-cum daryl was already leaking with a patience that was starting to irritate him. this wasn't a reward for your bratty behavior.

daryl took a handful of your hair and put it up, using it as leverage to thrust his hips upward without warning, making your eyes go wide as they made contact with his. he grunted as he pushed in and out of your pretty mouth, finding a rhythm soon.

one of your hands left his thigh to take hold of his balls, gently massaging them and playing with them in your hands. you watched how it made him bite on his bottom lip, bringing his free hand to your head to push you further, fucking your throat deeper, using it, and making you gag.

“yeah,” he breathed with hazy eyes, “lookin' real pretty like tha', ya fuckin' brat.”

daryl grunted, his cock twitching in your mouth. he was already on the edge, so when you looked up at him with teary eyes and scratched the exposed skin of his thigh with your nails, a pretty moan escaped his lips, making him yank, still as gently as he could, your hair back, pulling your mouth away from his cock.

you gasped for air, but still, like a hungry little thing, tried to take him back in your mouth, which made him chuckle.

“gonna make me cum fast with those pretty—” he leaned down, tilting your head up with a finger under your chin to press a couple of kisses on each one of your eyes, licking away a tear that escaped one of them, “—fuckin' eyes.”

his hand lowered to grab you by the neck, not actually using any force.

he pulled you for a passionate kiss, his tongue immediately seeking yours to lick and suck as he guided you onto the couch, making you sit next to him, one of your legs thrown over his knee.

his left hand grabbed the back of your head to deepen the kiss, while his other hand reached down to undo the button and zipper of your shorts, pulling away from the kiss just to yank them down, discarding them on the floor and wasting no time to return his mouth to yours, making your back arch slightly.

after what felt like such a blissful eternity, his lips latched onto the skin of your neck, sucking with the intent to create bruises, licking and kissing the skin when he accomplished his goal. at the same time, his hands slid under your blood-stained top, which despite its navy blue color, the crimson was still visible.

daryl caressed the skin of your tummy before traveling to your back, quickly unclasping your bra to cup your breasts under all those layers. he kneaded your tits, flicking your perky nipples with his thumbs, pinching them between the index and middle finger, and massaging the skin. fuck, it felt good. for both of you.

he growled as he pulled away from your neck to start ripping your shirt in half, chuckling lightly at your confused face, “found plenty'a clothes, sunshine,” he kissed your frown away, “dis one's ruined anyway.”

you removed the split shirt off your body and he quickly slipped your bra off your shoulders, throwing it a little too eagerly onto the floor. “ain't this a sight,” he whispered to himself, staring at you all naked and exposed for him. “beautiful little thing.”

daryl popped one tit into his mouth as he slowly spread your folds with his index and middle finger, humming against your nipped while he sucked when he felt how wet you were for him.

you gasped, arching your back more, offering your chest for him as he introduced his middle and ring fingers inside your needy cunt, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. his other hand went to your waist, gripping the skin like a vice, growing hard again as he scissored his fingers inside of you, feeling your silky walls hug them hungrily.

he lightly bit your nipple, his speed getting impatient soon, quickly making you squirm underneath him and get louder, but he shut you with a sloppy, hungry kiss while pinning your hips down with the hand that was priorly on your waist.

you weren't going to last long.

“dar—” you whined against his mouth.

“i know, doll, i know,” he mumbled, still kissing you as though your mouth was addictive, his fingers resolute on making you explode. “i gotcha, let go, baby.”

and like the good, obedient girl you always were under his touch, you did just that.

pulling away from his mouth with your eyes thrown back, your face contorted in pleasure, and the sweetest cry falling off your lips, you came. his relentless fingers never stopping their movements, fucking you through your orgasm.

he grunted in satisfaction, watching you in such awe before leaning down to lick a strip from your sternum to your jaw as his fingers came to a slow, eventual stop.

you opened your eyes as your breathing returned to normal, pulling him in for a slow, passionate kiss while your hand raised to grip his deliciously strong bicep. you moaned as the muscle flexed under your fingertips.

pulling away, you moved hastily to straddle him. leaning down you bit onto the skin, while he gripped the base of his cock to brush it against your entrance, making both of you moan.

“need you,” you whined, so pathetic but he liked it. fuck, he loved it.

“my needy girl. my needy little thing,” he growled, kissing your cheeks and jaw—anywhere his mouth reached while you sank onto his cock. “yeah,” he moaned, hands going to your his automatically.

you bit your bottom lip, rolling and bouncing your hips atop his, your hands on his chest that now was bare. the stretch made little cries of pleasure escape your lips, that only got whinier when his fingertips dipped into the skin, surely to leave bruises.

“fuckin' love this,” he breathed, reaching down to rub on your clit with his thumb as you lay on his chest, your hard nipples rubbing against his warm skin.

you bounced on his dick impaled in you, him meeting you halfway with thrusts of his own, finding the right angle that had his tip kissing your cervix, making you sigh and moan, “yeah, yeah, daryl, right there,” over and over, mind going blank already.

his calloused hands moved from your hips to your ass, squeezing and slapping the soft skin hungrily, traveling up to your back and to your tits, sliding back down to your hips. he couldn't stop touching you, pressing you impossibly closer to him.

his mouth found yours again, as sloppy and messy as this his thrusts were becoming from how close you were taking him to the edge. “dar,” you cried, your thighs burning, giving up, but he gripped your hips and started pounding into you faster.

the sound of skin slapping and your shameless moans mixed in the most sinful of symphonies.

your mouth found the skin of his neck and you sucked and bit, trying to muffle your sounds, but he didn't agree. “nah, let me hear ya, baby. gonna make you scream real loud, peach, c'mere,” with his hand behind your neck he pulled you up and pressed his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes as he picked up the pace.

his eyes, the way you breathed each other in, his dick sliding in and out of you in the loveliest way. you couldn't hold it anymore.

your walls clenched around him as you screamed his name, curses, and senseless praises to him, absolutely sucking him in as you climaxed around him, drunk off pleasure which seemed so contagious as his movements and sounds became more desperate.

with a primal urge, he thrusted deep inside, pretty much humping your walls while he shoved your face further into his neck. he was close and would've come already if it wasn't because he wanted this to last.

a husky voice reached your ears, deeper and so sexy.

“gon' breed this pussy,” he breathed, “gonna come so deep inside and put a baby in you,” it made you whimper, your arousal waking again like a flash, feeling just as close as he was. “i'm gonna put a baby in yea, make yea a mama, and ya won't,” thrust, “have a choice,” thrust, “but to stay home.”

he grunted loudly in your ear as he shattered, shooting rope after rope of hot, white come into your womb, making you reach the sweetest, most intense climax of the day with him.

you both were a panting, sweaty, content mess by the time you came down from your highs. there was a bright smile on your face that mirrored daryl's, though his face turned serious as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, gaze locking with yours, worry and concern clear in his icy irises.

“don't do tha' again, please,” he said. “i can't lose ya, sunshine.”

“you won't,” you reassured him. “i'm really, really, sorry,” taking his hand in yours, you pressed a kiss on his palm. “i was stupid, and it won't happen again.”

“you weren't stupid. i was mad, shouldn't 'a said that.”

you nodded, leaning down to kiss him, which he gladly reciprocated, though you broke the kiss a little too soon for his liking with a giggle. “so you wanna make me a mama, huh?” you teased.

“prolly should talk 'bout it first, but yeah.”

you smiled brightly again, caressing his cheek. “i'd like that too,” you said, “but yes, we should talk about it,” you giggled again as he pulled out of you with a wince from both of you.

you were about to get up to get your clothes but he stopped you, shooting up from the couch to collect all your clothes, pulling a new shirt from his backpack, and helping you put it on, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead when you were both fully dressed again.

after drying your sweat with his rag, and while fixing your hair as much as you could, you headed downstairs, meeting maggie and glenn who were exiting one of the apartments downstairs.

you noticed glenn's shirt was inside out, unlike when you all arrived at the place, and maggie similarly fixed her hair as you.

“found anything good?” glenn asked your man.

“yeah, bunch'a clothes, some medicine,” daryl nodded, fixing the backpacks around his shoulders. you shared a look with maggie, and you both giggled silently, cheeks blushing.

tagging @ledgeria16 @poisonmedixon @dixons-sunshine comment to join the main taglist!

Cleansing The Mind, The Soul And The Body | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF credits to @reedusmcbridedaily.*

Summary: Getting Daryl to take a shower or a bath when he wasn't in the mood was never easy. It took a lot of skillful convincing and even some bribery. Luckily, as his wife, all it took was a batting of your eyelashes and he was putty in your hands—and you took this to your advantage.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria; post Saviour arc, pre the building of the bridge.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of past abuse, Daryl's scars.

Word count: 1.6k

A/n: A fic born from this idea by @louifaith. Hope you like this! This was originally supposed to be a 500 word blurb but I got carried away lol.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

The sun was almost completely gone from the sky. The first stars of the night sky were twinkling brightly outside the window of the bathroom in your shared home with Daryl, and the calming, cool breeze was flowing in through the slightly open window. The water was starting to fill up the bathtub, and you meticulously added just enough bubble bath liquid you had found on a run a few weeks prior.

Behind you, Daryl was reluctantly slowly undressing himself, carelessly tossing his shirt into the laundry hamper. He was grumbling to himself under his breath, making you laugh lightly.

“Whatever you want to say, you can say it to my face, Dixon,” you joked, turning the faucet off and turning around to face your half naked husband.

Daryl rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Nothin',” he answered, slowly stepping out of his jeans and boxers and walking over to the bathtub and settling into the bubbly water. “Let's just get this fuckin' over with already.”

You chuckled affectionately, settling onto your knees beside the bathtub and bringing a hand up to brush through his hair. Even though the archer didn't admit it, the warm water of the bathtub was soothing the aches in his body. And your soft hand gently threading through his hair had him practically melting into the water. Despite originally being against the idea of having you bathe him, insisting that he wasn't a little kid and he didn't need someone cleaning him, if he was already so content with just your hand in his hair, he didn't even want to know how relaxed he'd feel if you were to gently wash him.

Daryl subconsciously leaned into your touch and let out a small, content sigh, eliciting a light laugh from you. “Relaxed? I thought you didn't want this. Didn't you say that you "didn't need to be babied" and that "this would be a waste of time"?”

Daryl grumbled under his breath, lightly swatting your hand away. “Shut up,” he mumbled, trying to hide how his lips twitched up into a smile.

You giggled and leaned over the bathtub, catching his lips for a quick, tender kiss, before pulling away again. “Okay, handsome. What first? Body or hair?”

“Hair,” Daryl replied slowly, suddenly feeling hyper aware of the fact that he was naked and vulnerable in front of your eyes.

You nodded and carefully got to work on his hair, wetting it and carefully applying shampoo, working it into his hair while lightly scratching his scalp. “I love your hair. Long hair really suits you.”

“Yeah?” he asked, looking at you.

“Yeah. It compliments your features perfectly. I love it.”

Daryl closed his eyes and basked in the caring, loving moment. However, he couldn't help the nervousness that creeped up on him. The scars on his body were on full display, but luckily the ones on his back were hidden from your view for now. He chastised himself for feeling so insecure about his scars—you were his partner for two years before you became his wife a couple of months prior, and a loyal companion and friend for two years before that, dating all the way back to the quarry. You were well aware of his scars and about his father's abuse, and always worshipped him and reassured him that his scars were nothing to be ashamed of, but that didn't stop his insecurity from creeping up from time to time.

And what should've been a loving, tender moment could potentially be ruined by his insecurity.

While applying the conditioner to his hair, you noticed his now opened eyes staring ahead at the wall, his eyebrows furrowed together as he subconsciously crossed his arms over his chest, right over his scars. You instantly knew what was going through his mind, and you took it on yourself to lift his spirits.

You gently cupped his cheek with one of your hands, prompting him to look at you. His beautiful, ocean coloured eyes locked with your eyes, and you could clearly see the turmoil within their beautiful depths. It made your heart ache to know that someone caused the man you loved so much harm. If his father was still alive, Daryl wouldn't have had to worry about a confrontation with him. No, you would've given the man a taste of his own cruel medicine and after that, you would've killed him.

“Baby,” you whispered softly. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

Daryl could feel a blush creep up onto his cheeks. He scoffed and ducked his head, letting his wet hair fall in front of his eyes. “Stop,” he mumbled, but he couldn't help the small smile that crept up onto his face.

You giggled and tucked his hair behind his ears. “You are! You're so beautiful, Daryl. I can't believe how lucky I got with you. I won't be surprised if every woman here has a crush on you. Well, except Tara, but other than her...”

“Nah,” he denied and shook his head in disagreement. “Ain't no woman who would give me the time of day 'cept ya. 'Sides, even if there were, I ain't need no other woman. I already have the perfect one.”

You smiled and leaned over for another kiss, this one lasting longer than the previous one. You pulled back with a soft laugh, admiring the man who you'd come to love above everything else.

“And you swear on your life that you're not a romantic. That last line was smooth, Dixon,” you mused, grabbing the soap bar that smelled like lavender and turned back to the archer. “Is this okay?” you asked, motioning to his body.

Daryl's heart swelled at your thoughtfulness. You never wanted to do something that would make him uncomfortable, and he appreciated you for that. Nobody understood him quite like you did.

“Yeah, s'fine,” he replied with a nod, pushing that nagging voice in the back of his mind away. You loved him, every part of him. If you didn't, you would've run for the hills a long time ago. You weren't freaked out by his scars. You loved him for him, scars and all, and he'd be damned if he let his self deprecating thoughts ruin a good, loving moment.

The two of you remained in a comfortable silence for a few minutes while you continued to wash his body. However, when he slowly sat forward so that you could wash his back, you broke the serene silence with your loving, soft whispers.

“You're so strong, Dar,” you whispered, gently tracing your soapy fingers over his scars. An involuntary shiver traveled across Daryl's spine, eliciting a small giggle from you. “You're a warrior. You've been fighting to live the life you deserve even before the dead started rising. You've been surviving for far longer than most of us. That makes you so fucking brave, baby. And I know you don't feel like it, but you deserved to be loved, and you are loved. Rick loves you. Michonne loves you. Carol, Maggie, Rosita, Aaron, all of them. But I can assure you, nobody loves you as much as I do. I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. I'd die for you. I'd kill for you. I'd do anything for you.”

Daryl inhaled sharply. He swallowed hard, willing the lump in his throat to go away. Hearing that from you was exactly what he needed in that moment. He knew it would be a long journey for him until he actually believed he was worthy of love, worthy of your love, but with you by his side, he knew he'd get there eventually.

“I love ya,” he whispered, staring into your eyes to let you know he meant it. He truly did love you. Nothing could ever change that.

“I love you too,” you answered with a smile, gently rinsing the soap from his back before grabbing the handheld showerhead and instructing him to lean his head back. You carefully rinsed the conditioner from his hair, bringing an end to the bath time.

You grabbed a towel and shook it out, using it to dry your husband. He looked at you in amusement but allowed you to do so, not-so-secretly enjoying the attention you were giving him. You then grabbed the fresh pair of boxers and handed it to him, as well as a pair of flannel pants. He got dressed in them and turned back at you.

“Lift your arms,” you instructed, watching the man lift an eyebrow at you but complying nonetheless. You helped him slip his shirt on, and after he was dressed, you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his clothed chest.

Daryl wasted no time in returning the hug. He tightly wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss to the top of your head before resting his chin there. He gently rocked you from side to side.

“Dar?” you whispered, catching his attention.

“Hm?”

“Do you wanna cuddle?”

“Mhm.”

“You wanna be the little spoon?” you asked, giggling as Daryl's arms tightened around you. You already knew what the answer was without him having to say anything. “C'mon. Let's go to bed, handsome.”

what about rafe spending the night at shy!reader’s house for the first time?

buried in a sea of pillows and stuffed animals, rafe lays down and pulls your quilt over his body. you're still in the bathroom—he can hear running water and the clink of the little bottles you open and close while putting things on your face.

he looks down—the quilt doesn't even cover his feet. he laughs—a short rush of breath leaving him. he fixes the blanket, not caring if his arms stay cold and wanting to make sure you don't worry about it, which you will if you see.

when you come out—dressed in one of his old shirts that's too big on you, something that always leaves him staring while you question what's wrong—you look so pretty he thinks it's the first time he's ever seen you all over again.

it's not how you look—he's used to the shirt and boxers he can't see, the braided hair and the jewelry you don't take off even for bed—it's the way you look at him.

you don't have to say anything, he already knows what you're thinking. but you do, you say it anyways.

"you okay?" and it's said with such sincerity—so much meaning behind two little words, often repeated to him multiple times a day. you thought he used to get mad when you would ask, but really rafe's just not used to being asked, to someone caring enough to ask again.

"yeah, kid. ready for bed?" you nod, turning just to close the bathroom door and sort the last few things—the clothes you wore to dinner, one of the biggest stuffed animals you took off the bed to make room for rafe, other odds and ends.

he watches you do it, looking at how everything in your cluttered yet neat bedroom has a place and how you remember each one. he's been in your room many times before but this is important—sleeping over for the first time.

when you finally join him in bed, you discard your slippers right by the bed and push them underneath. rafe looks at you confused for a moment before you answer.

"so you don't trip. when you get up." you get in beside him and suddenly it's rafe who has to conceal burning cheeks, still unsure how he ended up with a girl who could possibly care this much about him.

the two of you end up like always, same as when you're at tannyhill—with you curled up on his chest and his arm around your shoulders. his hand plays with the ends of your hair and you wrap your hand around the other, holding on tight like rafe might disappear while you sleep.

"you okay?" you ask again after a few moments, said quietly. he can tell you're close to sleep now.

"yeah, kid. m'fine. you okay?" you don't answer, already asleep. he laughs softly to himself again.

Couch Crasher

pairing: Daryl Dixon x (Fem!)reader

summary: Daryl carried you to bed, because you fell asleep on the couch... again. (SLIGHT! mention of Daryl's scars nothing big just reader thinking)

You obviously don't mean to fall asleep on the couch, just whenever you come home to the warm sanctuary that is your house in Alexandria the couch seems an inviting space to rest your feet... and maybe sometimes rest your eyes too.

Daryl comes home from the hunt, toeing off his boots in the hallway and strolling into the living room where he is confronted with the sight of you.

your curled up on the edge of the couch, in your sweatpants and stained worn hoodie. Your hair is covering part of your face as you sleep peacefully in the middle of the room, soft breaths leaving your parted lips.

Daryl falters for a second in the doorway, scanning over your sleeping form, allthough you look tranquil enough he wouldn't nessacarly describe the way your lying as comfortable in the long term.

He thinks for a momment, of the last few times he's found you like this, allways too tired to make the extra trek to your bed, he thinks of the way you've never got rid of the dark circles which took up stubborn residence below your sparkling eyes a few years ago.

He shakes his head, a little frown finds its way onto his lips as he stalks closer to your side while you sleep, trying not to wake you. As carefully as he possibly can he reaches out, grabbing your legs with one arm and using the other to support your torso, carrying you bridal style, close to his chest.

A small groan leaves your lips in protest as you turn hiding your face in his chest.

"yeah I know, I know..." Daryl muses, carrying you steadily towards your room, knocking the door open with his shoulder to avoid lessening his grip on you.

He gently lays you down on your bed, pulling the blanets over you and stroking your hair back from your face as you scrunch your nose in annoyance at being disturbed.

"don't give me tha' look" Daryl tilts his head to the side, amusement flickers in his face then he turns away, rummaging through his chest of drawers. He carefully shrugs out of his treasured leather vest, hanging it over the back of a chair before unbuttoning his flannel shirt.

You watch intently, blinking heavily from your place in the warm bed as he shrugs out of yet another layer, revealing his back to you. Your eyes scan over the long scars that litter his back, some thin and some thick and suddenly your ribcage is tightening around your lungs.

You wonder how in the face of all the awfull things against him, he still turned out good... so so truly good.

You take this thought, mulling it, turning it over in your head as you watch him slide into a worn grey t-shirt.

But then he's turning around and every worry, every concern and every bit of anxiety that riddles your worn and exhausted bones is washed away, painted instead in the warm, comforting glow of his little smile. The soft one he reserves for your eyes only in these quiet moments.

You adjust a little as the mattress sinks to his weight, pushing yourself closer to him slightly and wrapping one arm tightly around him, and the other arm across yourself. He holds you closely, running one of his large hands gently through your hair, soothing you softly.

"better than the couch huh?" Daryl jokes, his voice just as soft as his soothing hands are.

"mhm..." you mumble back a tired response, smiling at Daryl, who just shakes his head in fake dissaproval then places a small peck on your forhead.

"back to sleep hun'" he murmurs back, closing his own eyes slowly.

You both lay like that, curled up in one another's embrace, without a single care for the cruel world outside the door of your bedroom. The two of you find refuge in one another's arms, like a safe harbour to a sailor who had been lost in a storm.

Your very last thought before joining Daryl in the realm of peacefull sleep is that, yeah... this is WAY better than couch crashing.

A/N: hope you guys like it! been sitting in my drafts for fucking ages so I just thought I'd post it and see what ppls thoughts are, IF U SEE ANY SPELLING MISTAKES OR GRAMMAR ERRORS OR JUST ANY CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM ID LOVE TO HEAR IT!!! and if you have any prompts or ideas for little drabbles then my requests will be open, I'll try my best ❤️

What if a drabble about this https://twitter.com/bxnksi_/status/1754954693329998141?t=QfzPSplktYI04Owlt-gzSg&s=19 I just know hotch's gonna be taking that kiss IMMEDIATELY like no thoughts. He'll be like, "screw my point and kiss me".

priorities

this cw; bau!reader, established relationship, kissing, light suggestion, brief arguing into fluff, 6x22 references - this relates to aaron coaching jack's soccer team <3

the team's prying eyes couldn't help but be directed upwards as they attempted to work, due to the visual of you and aaron going at it through his office window. your hurried and raising voice also drifted out his slightly ajar door from time to time.

"it's not fair to you aaron." you insisted, mentally urging him to stop being so stubborn and understand your point. "i get that they need a coach, and it's wonderful they thought of you, but you're too preoccupied."

aaron scoffed lightly, crossing his arms as he leaned back against his desk, "preoccupied?"

you gave him a look - c'mon. it was a rather accusatory word, you'd admit it, but he knew what you meant. "the league should be resolving their own problems."

"isn't them asking an attempt to do so?"

"but it's not your problem, or is it your responsibility to accept. i know you feel obligated to and," you reached out to touch his arm affectionately, reminding him you were on his side. "it's so sweet of you to jump at it. but please think about it realistically."

aaron exhaled a breath of his own, turning his eyes away from yours in a subtle eye roll.

"aaron," you gaped at him, your frustration quickly turning into annoyance. "you're in the fbi. you're a unit chief, for god's sake. don't you think they should ask someone who's not on such a strict, unpredictable schedule? what happens when you can't make it to a practice? to a game?"

as you fired off all the reasonings, even throwing in the example that jessica did swing by once to pick up jack upon getting a call for a case - aaron fell quiet, knowing you were right.

he felt obligated; being unreservedly himself, he wanted to be the one to step up and take the initiative. jack's soccer team deserved someone willing and wanting to provide their undivided attention as coach, given majority of the parents were more preoccupied by their phones than watching their own kid. focus - he could provide such.

another convincing factor, being coach would provide him more time with jack. these days, the fact jack was growing up, rapidly, was slowly sinking in. before he knew it, aaron would blink and jack would prefer to do anything else than to hang around his father.

but again, from a realistic standpoint, you were right. trying to navigate a soccer team with his crazy schedule would be extremely difficult; the potential aspect of not being around, and then potentially not being able to find reliable cover - an inevitable, ongoing complication, despite how badly he wished he could manage it.

aaron hadn't meant for this to turn into a disagreement either. to be fair, he had just returned from a meeting with strauss, which always amp'ed up his disposition in one way or another.

but now you were getting heated, and as you thoroughly stated your case, aaron's eyes involuntarily kept flicking down to your lips. the more he attempted to avert his eyes away, they only lingered more.

and not wanting to argue further, he quickly surrendered to his own argument, the only thought beginning to maintain importance was how badly he wanted - no, needed - to kiss you.

"go ahead, say it."

your remark regained his attention, "say what?"

"i know that look, so go ahead." you crossed your arms, huffing a frustrated breath of air out of your nose. you had mistaken his lack of focus for another impending, contrasting detail of his, "say it."

"kiss me."

your expression changed at once; irritation shifting to a softened confusion. "what?"

"what? do you want me to beg?" aaron tossed out, a glint surfacing in his eyes and warming you from the middle out, "fine, you're right, forget about it. now kiss me."

you opened your mouth to respond, but aaron took that as an opportunity to weave his fingers through the belt loops of your pants, pulling you strictly against him and pressing his lips to yours.

once your initial surprise wore off, and focusing on how soft aaron's lips felt on yours, you kissed him in return with just an equal amount of gentle vigor.

you pulled away, your mind attempting to resist his everlasting temptation, bringing your index finger to his chest. "this isn't resolvin-"

but aaron chased your lips, immediately pressing his back to yours and stopping you mid-sentence. you reciprocated eagerly, sighing softly against his lips in content as your fingers found hold on the sides of his suit jacket.

"you're absolutely ridiculous." you laughed against his lips, providing one more chaste kiss before successfully pulling away, your cheeks flushed.

"am i?" he quipped back, rather playfully as his eyebrows rose, a cheeky expression plastered on his face - one of which only made you want to kiss him wildly.

"yeah, you are." you bantered back, exhaling to ease yourself back to the real world, which aaron also assisted in with his next statement, dropping the matter yet again.

"i'm still expecting your supplementary report on the houston case by the end of the day." he said, his hand sliding down your back and patting your ass, playfully urging you to get a move on. "get back to work."

you nearly released an audible groan but instead rolled your eyes, bringing yourself to peck aaron's lips once more. on your way out, you tossed over your shoulder. "this discussion isn't over, you know."

due to your restrained line of vision, you missed the small smirk of his lips. "and if it ends similarly, i'll be looking forward to it."