Daryl X Reader - Tumblr Posts

Not Just Friends

Daryl x reader

WARNINGS: Smut

 My eyes trailed the fence of the prison. We had been here for a while now and I was on watch tonight. The moon was my only source of light. I kicked my legs a little letting them swing over the side of the watch tower. My arms rested on the railings my chin on the soft skin and lodged between the bars as I sat of the ground. 'Y/N' I jumped a little at the voice behind me. 'Shit' I groaned as my head smacked off the bar above it. 'Sorry I didn't mean to scare you, I wasn't that quiet coming up' I stood and turned to see Maggie standing there. 'I'm here to take over' She smiled. 'Thanks, is it really that late?' She laughed. 'You were daydreaming again' I laughed at her and nodded rubbing my forehead. 'You're bleeding' She gasped. 'A little bump, I'll clean it myself' I smiled and waved her off. 'I just want to go to sleep' She nodded. 'Goodnight Y/N' I smiled over my shoulder. 'Goodnight Maggie, make sure its only you up here tonight, You cant be getting lucky tonight you're on watch' I winked at her remembering walking in on her and Glenn the last time. She went bright red as I walked away laughing across the prison grounds. I grabbed a clothe and  wet it before putting it to my head. I walked back to mine and Daryl's cell. I had insisted on sleeping in the same cell as him. Before we met the group I had saved Daryl and Merles lives and told them they were taking me with them wherever they were going. Merle had objected at first but Daryl had said that they could use me so I had tagged along. Myself and Merle never got along and I had thanked Rick when he had locked him to the roof. Daryl on the other hand, we hit it off we always had each others back even if it wasn't in a mushy way, we still did. So I had insisted on staying with him, I trusted him the most and I would do anything for him. He has saved my life more times than I could count. 'What are you doing awake?' I asked walking in to the room to see Daryl sitting up playing with an arrow. 'Couldn't sleep' He grunted. 'Why?' He looked up. 'Good lord Y/N, te hell happened' I tossed the rag aside. 'Just a nick, hit it off the bar when Maggie frightened me, and before ye say anything it wasn't her fault, I was away in my own world again' He rolled his eyes again. 'When are ye never?' I stuck out my tongue at him. 'Shut up Dixon' He smirked a little. 'Ye alright?' I shrugged. 'Getting a headache but that's it' He nodded looking away from me as I sat at the end of his bed beside his feet. I pulled off my boots and placed them beside me. 'We got no pain killers, maybe Rick kept the last eh Merles drugs' I scoffed. 'I don't want anything he owns I growled and stood, maybe a little too quickly as the world spun a little. When it came back into focus my hand was holding me up against the top bunk of my bed. Daryl was pulling himself off the bed. 'That's all my ass' He grumbled grabbing my arm. 'That is it Daryl' He looked down at me his figure towering over my 5 foot 4 one. I rolled my eyes. 'That was completely unrelated' I muttered. 'I'm getting ye some drugs' I grabbed his arm. 'I jus need to sleep it off' He watched me and I seen something in his eyes, something the others were always telling me about. Something I couldn't resist. I grabbed his jacket and pulled him down to me. I connected my lips with his slightly chapped ones. It took him a second but his lips started to move over mine. His arm wound around me and his other had came to the back of my neck and deepened the kiss. My hands gripped his bulging biceps, they were my favourite part of him. He lifted e a little of he ground and I wrapped my legs around him. His hands went to my shorts clad ass. My hands moved up his arms to thread though his hair. My back hit a wall and I groaned as he bit my lip slipping his tongue into my mouth. We both began fighting for dominance. I tugged on his hair but that just made him growl and squeeze my ass. As soon as he won he began kissing my neck. I moaned as he kissed my weak spot right next to my collarbone. 'Daryl' I moaned tugging his hair. He growled and bit down on my neck sucking and licking aswel. I was sure he was going to leave a massive mark that everyone was would undoubtedly see. His lips skittered across my neck biting and sucking. My hands gripped his shoulders as my head fell back against the wall. His lips pressed against me jaw. 'I should get them drugs' He connected our lips again and put me down. I pulled away from him a little. 'You know I heard an orgasm clears a headache right up'

I felt him tense against me. I cursed myself, God Y/N. Daryl would never, just because he kissed you doesn’t means he wants to fuck you. ‘Or the drugs’ I muttered slipping out from between him and the wall and went to the steps to my top bunk. I felt him grab my arm and turn me around. His lips slammed to mine as he kissed me roughly. He slipped my open shirt from my shoulders and tossed it across the cell. My hands grabbed his leather jacket and I pushed it off of him and down his arms. His tongue passed through my lips he immediately took dominance and slipped his calloused hands up my tank top gripping my waist. My hands began to unbutton his shirt. He pulled away from my llips and leaned in close to my ear. His hands gripped my waist so tight I thought I would have bruises tomorrow. ‘I think we should try that orgasm’ He whispered and I felt a shiver go down my spine, finally something I had been waiting for, for months. ‘Then hurry up, we ain got all day’ I smirked. His eyes narrowed and his arm wrapped around my waist and the other hiked my leg up to his hip. He pushed backwards so I landed on my ass on his bed. He handed between my legs on his knees tilting me backwards at an angle so I had to grab onto his shirt to stop myself from falling backwards. ‘Dont ye yell me how te fuck ye Miss Y/N’ He growled his fingers digging into my bare thigh. ‘Or what’ I smirked up at him. ‘Or I’ll make ye regret it’ His lips attacked mine as he repositioned us and my head landed on the pillow. I pushed his shirt and he sat back a little taking it off. He smiled down at me before grabbing the bottom of my top and pulling it up and tossing it over his shoulder. He grabbed my face and kissed me before trailing his lips downwards. ‘Daryl’ I groaned as he kissed along my collarbone. His hands slipped around me and he fumbled with the clasp of my bra for a second before pulling it down my arms and it joined the rest of our clothes on the floor. We were both half naked now. His lips attached to my right nipple sucking and I groaned pulling on his hair. HE responded by grinding his hips into mine. I gasped and he bit my nipple lightly and his other hand roughly kneading my left breast. ‘Daryl, please’ I moaned. ‘Please’ I groaned and my hands slipped down his chest scratching my nails along his muscles. I began to unbuckle his belt. ‘Say it again’ I looked down and he was staring up at me from between my breasts. ‘Please’ I breathed out. His hands pushed mine away and he tugged at my shorts pulling the down my legs and bending them up to slip them over my feet. My hands gripped his shoulder as he began to kiss the inside of my thighs. ‘Daryl’ I moaned. I gripped his hair again; my hands seemed to spend most of my time there. His hands caressed up my thighs until they fiddled with the top of my panties. He tugged at them and pulled the down my legs as well. ‘Ye have no idea how long I wanted te see ye naked Y/N’ He smirked up at me from between my legs. ‘Jesus Daryl, just do something and stop smirking at me like that’ He smirked again and attached his lips to my clit and began to suck. I gasped and moaned. ‘Daryl’ I wrapped my legs around him. His tongue flicked over the little bud and I bucked my hips. His hand pushed my hips back down onto the bed. He ran his index finger over my slit causing me to throw back my head and moan loudly. I was super sensitive seeing as I hadn’t had sex since way before this whole thing started. I groaned as he pushed one inside of me. He slowly started to pump it in and out of me. The rough pads of his finger brushing against my walls. ‘Daryl’ I groaned. He slipped a second in and curled them causing me to arch my back a silent gasp falling from my lips as they parted. I screwed my eyes shut as he repeated his actions. He pushed my legs off his shoulders and kissed his way up my body as his fingers continued to work inside of me. ‘Daryl’ I groaned. His lips kissing up my stomach his tongue twirling around my belly button piercing. He continued up my stomach over the mounds of my breasts. He bit my neck before reconnecting our lips. I wrapped my arms around his body. His fingers found the one spot he was looking for and I arched my back again. My nails scraped along the small of his back and he started rubbing figure eights on my clit with his thumb. I moaned into his mouth as I began to feel a knot in my stomach. My leg wrapped around his hip as I pushed my hips closer to his. ‘C’mon Y/N’ He growled in my ear as his fingers speed up their actions. ‘Daryl’ I moaned as the knot in my stomach unravelled. I moaned and whimpered his name over and over as he worked me through my high. ‘Jesus Daryl’ I breathed collapsing back to the bed.  He stood up and slipped off his jeans and his boxers. His boner stood prominent in the low light of the cell. I sat up flipping my legs over the side of the bed. I took his length in my hand and started to slowly pump it. His head fell back. ‘Y/N’ He moaned. I leaned forward and ran my tongue across the slit of his bright red tip collecting the pre-cum that was leaking from it. ‘Jesus Y/N’ He groaned. ‘Do that again’ His hands gripped my hair and pushed me forwards again. I licked from the base of his shaft all the way to the top with the flat of my tongue. A moan slipped passed his lips. I opened my mouth and took the head into my mouth. I began to suck getting a groan from Daryl and he gripped my hair harder. He tugged my head back and bent connecting our lips. ‘I wanted that, but’ He muttered pushing me backwards and climbing between my legs. ‘Let’s go for two’ He positioned himself and slipped inside me. A groan slipped from both our lips simultaneously. His name slipped from my lips and he started to move. ‘Oh God Daryl’ I gasped wrapping my legs around him digging my heels into his ass. He started to thrust harder his head dropping to my shoulder. ‘Y/N’ Daryl moaned into my shoulder going faster. My nails scratched down his back. He hissed in pain and he grabbed my hair tugging it back exposing more of my neck. He bit down causing me to moan and buck my hips. He grabbed my hip and dug his nails into my hip. His hips had found a rhythm and he was pounding into me. I felt the familiar knot in my stomach again. Daryl’s lips sucked on my weak spot causing moans to continuously fall from my lips. ‘JESUS Y/N’ He moaned loudly into my neck. ‘D-Daryl’ I gasped as I felt myself unravelling. ‘Please, please’ He groaned. ‘Say it again. ‘Please’ His finger found my clit and he rubbed it harshly. I threw my head back a moaning mess. ‘Cum, baby, cum’ I obey and I screamed. His lips captured mine drowning out my screams. I felt him twitch inside me. His hips started moving at an irregular pace and I thrust upwards to meet him. His hand tightened in my hair and he came inside of me. My name falling from his lips again and again. As we both came down from our high he collapsed on top of me. We both lay there panting for a few moments. ‘How’s that head?’ He rolled off me and lay beside me. ‘It’s good now’ I smiled at him. ‘Jesus, wonder does that work fer every pain’ I laughed and he tugged my wrist pulling me into his chest. ‘I doubt it’ I planted a kiss on his chest and buried my head in it. He wrapped his arms around me and tugged the covers over both of us.

 I woke up to someone laughing. ‘What te-?’ I heard Daryl groan. I looked up to see Maggie Rick and Glenn standing in the door way of the cell. ‘Though I heard a scream last night’ Rick laughed. I furrowed my eyebrows confused. My eyes widened and I turned red as I realised what they were laughing at. Myself and Daryl were laying under the cover….naked. ‘Get out’ Daryl shouted and tossed something at them. ‘Whoa’ Glenn caught what I realised to be Daryl’s trousers. ‘I don’t want these, only person that wants to be in them is Y/N’ He laughed and Daryl growled. Glenn’s eyes widened and he dropped Daryl’s pants walking away. ‘Well looks like you can get lucky when you’re not on watch huh Y/N’ Maggie laughed. ‘Piss off’ I groaned and buried my face back in Daryl’s chest. ‘They gone’ He grunted. I looked up. ‘Thank god’ I sighed. He disentangled himself from the bed and stood. I gasped when I seen his back. He tensed and turned quickly. ‘I did a number on that back Dixon, don’t let any of them see that, scratches everywhere’ I said feeling I owed him an explanation, I knew how he felt about those scars. ‘You might wana clean it too, pretty sure I seen blood’ He smiled at me a little. ‘Didn’t even feel it’ I laughed sitting up holding the covers over myself. ‘You will after’ He leaned in closer to me. ‘Worth it’ He planted his lips on mine and then pulled away getting dressed. ‘Cmon’ He smirked standing in the doorway. ‘Breakfast’ He turned and walked out the door. I shook my head getting up. I just had sex with Daryl Dixon

Masterlist

Daryl finds you hurt and alone

You kept your leg pressed against the door as the walker pounded on it. Your hand was pressed firmly against your shoulder. The blood was seeping through the shirt you had pressed against it staining it deep red. The door opened a little and you threw yourself against the door closing it again.

You should have stayed running. You should have stayed going you might have found a way out, or even a door with a damn lock. A door with a lock would have been amazing right now. But here you were, stuck in a janitors closet bleeding out, with no lock. It was the bleeding out thing that made you stop, you couldn’t stay going.

You were so tired, your body was sore and every now and then your vision would spin for a second or two.  So here you were stuck in a bloody broom closet four walkers outside the door and you with no way to kill them. You weren’t sure waiting them out would do, you weren’t sure you really had that in you.

You closed your eyes and sighed. ‘I’m sorry’ You whispered to the air. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t do this, I promised but I couldn’t do it’ The idiot you had been on a run with had started shooting up the place bringing walkers from every nook and cranny. There had been too much, you had exhausted your supply of weapons. 

Now you would end up walker chow.

You jumped as there was a thud outside the door. Then another. And another. You felt the pressure on the door begin to lessen. Then a fourth thud. And the groans were gone. Silence outside the door. There was someone there.

You pushed yourself off the ground. The world span and you stumbled falling against the wall. When everything went back to its rightful place you reached out opening the door.

It swung open and you were met by a pile of dean walkers. Each with an arrow through their head. You looked up. Your eyes landed on the most perfect man alive, at least at this moment.

Daryl Dixon.

You let a weary smile spread across your face. Daryl began to lower the bow he was holding against his shoulder. ‘Daryl’ You breathed putting your hand out leaning against the doorway. ‘Y/n, hell happened?’ He started forwards. You just smiled at him again before the world went dark

The bright light that was hanging above you forced you to keep them closed. You tried to roll over but you were constricted. Pain flared through your shoulder and you groaned. You tried to move you hand to cover you eyes from the light. A rope bit into your wrist. ‘Y/n?’ You had never heard so much fear in someone voice. ‘Say anytin, lemme know yer alri’ You wanted to talk but when you opened your mouth all that came out was a groan.

Your throat was dry and you couldn’t talk. You turned your head to the side to open your eyes but the glare off the light was still to harsh. You tugged on the ropes harder wiggling your hand to see if they’d come off. ‘I’m sorry’ You heard a whisper. ‘D-d’ You growled and you felt something press against your temple. A gun.

You began to struggle more. Pain flared through your shoulder but you were only concentrating on one thing, talking. You tried to croak out his name. ‘I shoulda got there sooner’ You hear the click of it being loaded. ‘M-me’ You groaned. ‘Da-daryl’ You felt the gun press harder into your temple.

And then it disappeared. ‘Y/n’ His voice was closer and you felt the bed you were lying on dip. ‘Say sometin else’ You cracked open an eye to see him leaning close. You felt a hand on your face as he brushed the hair off your face. ‘S’me’ You grunted. ‘Li-li-’ You nodded towards the bright light. 

His hand disappeared. ‘Hershel’ He called as the light clicked off. With the new darkness of the cell you were able to open your eyes. You were met with the sight of Daryl frantically untieing your hands. ‘We had te do it, just incase’ He glanced up at you. You nodded ‘Ah, nice to see you awake’ You looked to the door of your cell.

You tried to push yourself up but Daryl pushed you back down. ‘Not until you get the all clear’ He grumbled giving you a small rare smile. ‘Daryl, grab me some water?’ Hershel patted his shoulder. Daryl looked up at him shrinking from his touch. He nodded giving your hand a quick squeeze before leaving the cell.

Hershel looked back down at you. ‘You’ve been out about three days’ He nodded to the drip coming from your arm. ‘He’s been sitting in here everyday, as much as he can. Only left twice to grab some things for you and come back’ He told you as he checked you over. He furrowed those bushy white brows when he seen your shoulder. ‘You took a turn for the worst yesterday’ He leaned away from you. Then he was back with a needle and thread.

Daryl walked back in just as he was finishing stitching you wound again. ‘Blow a stitch?’ He asked with a flask of water in his hand. ‘Seems like it’ Hershel nodded to you. ‘She’ll need the water’ Daryl dropped to his knees beside you. ‘Take it easy for a week or two’ Hershel told you as Daryl helped you sit up. ‘Bedrest for at least two days’ You took the flask from Daryl and began to drink deeply.

You let out a long sigh licking you dry lips. ‘Thanks’ You croaked. Hershel was gone, he must have left when you were drinking the water. ‘Least I could do’ Daryl stood and sat on the edge of the bed facing you. ‘For what? You got me outs there, few seconds more and I wouldn’t be here’ You smiled up at him. He shrugged. ‘Few seconds earlier ye wouldn’t have been in there, That-’ He nodded towards your shoulder. ‘-wouldn’t have happened’  You shrugged with your good shoulder.

You leaned forwards and pressed your lips to his cheek. ‘Was perfect timing Daryl’ You whispered in his ear pressing another kiss to his cheek after your words. He gave you a shy smile when you pulled away. ‘Hershel said you stood guard’ He looked away . ‘And don’t give me the whole it was for the safety of the group thing’ You watched him shift.

He sighed and turned to you. ‘It had te be me, I had te put you down. I couldn’t let anyone else’ You nodded understanding. You had been with Daryl the longest, if it was anyone you would have wanted it to be him. ‘Thank you’ You took another gulp of water. ‘Thought I lost ye’ He looked away from you not wanting to show the vulnerability.

You reached out taking his hand in yours. ‘I ain’t dying Daryl, you ain’t that lucky’ He looked down at your hands as you chuckled at your joke. ‘Hope I never am’ He looked up at you. He reached his other hand out and wrapped it around the back of your neck.

He leaned forwards and pressed his lips to yours. It was a quick chaste kiss and he pulled away. He watched you a cautious look on his face. You let a small giggle fall from your lips. ‘If almost dying only got me that I don’t want to know what I have to do for a longer one’ Daryl smirked and leaned in again.

This time the kiss was longer and he held you tighter. You smiled when he pulled away. ‘Ye lost a lot eh blood, sleep’ He leaned up and pressed a kiss to your forehead his lips lingering on your skin. You nodded and he helped you to lie back down.

You turned over onto your good side. Daryl pushed your hair off your face and kissed your temple, the one he had pressed his gun to earlier. ‘Thank you’ You smiled at him. He nodded before sitting back down onto the floor on the other side of the cell.

He shot you one last smile before you closed your eyes very thankful Daryl had found you just in time.

Title: "Shadows of Sanctuary"

Triggers: typical twd violence, gore, blood, weapons, descriptions of fighting etc. I think thats it, comment if i missed any. First fanfic please be nice, i will write about probably anything unless i explicitly say i dont, thank you enjoy.

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The sun hung low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the forest floor. The air was heavy with the scent of pine and the distant sound of birds settling for the night. You adjusted your grip on the crossbow, mirroring Daryl Dixon’s stance beside you.

"Stay close," he murmured, his voice a gravelly whisper that seemed to blend with the rustling leaves.

You nodded, eyes scanning the surroundings. The world had changed, and you had to change with it. Surviving in this post-apocalyptic landscape required vigilance, strength, and an unyielding spirit – all of which Daryl possessed in abundance.

The two of you moved silently through the underbrush, your steps carefully placed to avoid snapping twigs. It had been weeks since you joined the group at the Sanctuary, a community struggling to rebuild amidst the chaos. Daryl had taken you under his wing, teaching you how to hunt, track, and fight. You had grown to trust him implicitly.

Tonight, you were on a mission to gather supplies from an abandoned cabin a few miles out. The walk had been long and the weight of the world heavy on your shoulders. Daryl’s presence was a constant source of reassurance.

As the cabin came into view, a chill ran down your spine. The structure stood silent and eerie, partially obscured by creeping vines and the encroaching darkness. Daryl motioned for you to stay back as he approached the door, crossbow at the ready. He gave a curt nod, signaling you to follow once he deemed it safe.

Inside, the cabin was a testament to a time long past. Dust-covered furniture and broken windows painted a picture of a life abruptly halted. You began to search the shelves and drawers, hoping to find anything useful. Canned food, medicine, tools – anything that could help.

Daryl rummaged through the cabinets in the kitchen, his brow furrowed in concentration. The silence between you was comfortable, a shared understanding of the gravity of your task. Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from outside, sending your heart racing.

Daryl was at your side in an instant, crossbow aimed at the door. You drew your knife, the cold steel a comforting weight in your hand. The two of you moved as one, a seamless unit honed by countless encounters with danger.

Outside, a small group of walkers had been drawn by the noise. Their grotesque forms staggered towards the cabin, eyes vacant and hungry. Daryl fired, his bolt finding its mark with deadly precision. You followed his lead, slashing at the nearest walker with a swift, practiced motion.

The fight was over quickly, but the adrenaline lingered. You stood back-to-back with Daryl, breathing heavily. His hand found yours, a silent reassurance in the gathering dusk.

“Good job,” he muttered, his eyes scanning the treeline for any remaining threats.

“Thanks,” you replied, squeezing his hand briefly before letting go. “Let’s finish up and get out of here.”

As you resumed your search, the connection between you and Daryl felt stronger than ever. It was more than just survival – it was a bond forged in the fires of adversity, unspoken but deeply felt.

With your bags filled with whatever supplies you could find, you started the trek back to the Sanctuary. The journey was quiet, each of you lost in your thoughts. The forest seemed less menacing with Daryl by your side, his presence a constant source of strength.

When the gates of the Sanctuary finally came into view, relief washed over you. The sense of safety, however fleeting, was a precious commodity. As you entered the community, the weight of the day began to lift.

Daryl turned to you, his expression softer than usual. “You did good out there. Proud of you.”

A smile tugged at your lips. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

He nodded, a rare smile ghosting across his features. “We’re in this together.”

In the shadowy twilight of the Sanctuary, you realized that your bond with Daryl was more than just a partnership. It was a lifeline, a beacon of hope in a world gone mad. And as long as you had each other, you knew you could face whatever came next.

Title: Mercy in the Apocalypse

(Daryl x Reader)

---

The world as you knew it had crumbled into a grotesque version of itself. The air was thick with the stench of decay and desperation. The relentless sun beat down on the abandoned streets, highlighting the eerie silence that replaced the once bustling city. In this post-apocalyptic world, mercy was a scarce commodity, and survival was a brutal game.

You stumbled through the deserted alleys, your feet dragging against the cracked asphalt. Your thoughts were a tangled mess of fear, exhaustion, and a fierce will to live. It had been weeks since you had seen another living soul, and your heart ached with the loneliness that gnawed at your spirit. The world had gone dark, and with it, the light in your soul seemed to flicker.

As you turned a corner, you heard the faint sound of footsteps behind you. Panic surged through you, and you quickly ducked into the shadows, pressing yourself against the cold, rough wall of an old building. Your breathing was shallow, your heart pounding in your chest like a drum. You strained to listen, hoping the footsteps would pass and leave you in peace.

But instead of fading away, they grew louder, more deliberate. A figure emerged from the shadows, moving with a purposeful grace that spoke of skill and confidence. Your eyes widened as the figure stepped into the dim light, revealing a tall, lean man with dark hair and piercing eyes. His clothes were worn and dirty, but he moved with an air of authority that made your stomach twist in knots.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice carrying a mix of weariness and resolve. "I'm not here to hurt you."

You stayed silent, your hand inching toward the knife strapped to your belt. Trust was a luxury you couldn't afford.

The man raised his hands in a gesture of peace. "My name's Daryl. Daryl Dixon. I saw you from a distance and figured you could use some help."

You studied him, your eyes narrowing. "Why should I trust you?"

Daryl sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "You don't have to. But being out here alone is a death sentence. I've got a group. We're good people. We look out for each other."

The mention of a group piqued your interest, but the memories of past betrayals made you wary. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

Daryl took a step closer, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. "Because I know what it's like to be alone. To lose everyone you care about. I'm just trying to survive, same as you."

You hesitated, the weight of his words sinking in. The loneliness you felt, the constant fear—it was mirrored in his eyes. Slowly, you lowered your hand from your knife and nodded. "Okay. But if you try anything..."

"I won't," Daryl assured, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Come on, let's get you to safety."

You followed him through the labyrinth of abandoned buildings and overgrown streets, your senses on high alert. As you walked, Daryl spoke softly, telling you about his group—a tight-knit family of survivors who had carved out a small sanctuary in the chaos. His voice was steady, a comforting presence amidst the madness.

When you finally reached their camp, nestled in the ruins of an old school, you were greeted by wary but kind faces. They offered you food, water, and a place to rest. The relief was overwhelming, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you allowed yourself to hope.

Days turned into weeks, and you found yourself becoming part of their makeshift family. You worked together, scavenging for supplies, fortifying your defenses, and sharing stories around the campfire. Each day was a battle, but you faced it together, drawing strength from one another.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the camp, you found yourself sitting beside Daryl. The two of you had formed a quiet bond, built on mutual respect and shared experiences. You looked at him, your heart heavy with unspoken words.

"Daryl," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you. For finding me. For giving me a chance."

Daryl turned to you, his eyes reflecting the fading light. "You don't have to thank me. We're in this together."

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat. "I know. But still, I... I don't know what I would have done without you."

Daryl reached out, his rough hand gently covering yours. "You would've survived. You're stronger than you think."

His touch was warm, a stark contrast to the cold, harsh world outside. You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, embarrassed. But Daryl's hand tightened around yours, grounding you in the moment.

"You deserve mercy," he said softly. "We all do."

In that moment, surrounded by the remnants of a broken world, you felt a flicker of hope ignite within you. Daryl was right. You deserved mercy, and so did everyone fighting to survive. It was a fragile, precious thing, but it was enough to keep you going.

As the stars began to dot the night sky, you leaned into Daryl, finding comfort in his presence. The world was still a brutal, unforgiving place, but together, you could face whatever came next. Mercy might be hard to come by, but as long as you had each other, you had a chance.

And sometimes, a chance was all you needed.

Title:A Fight For Survival

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In the desolate wasteland, the abandoned warehouse stood as a grim reminder of the world’s collapse. Its skeletal remains were dimly lit by the weak light seeping through broken windows. The oppressive silence was occasionally broken by distant groans and the shuffle of the undead, signaling the encroaching danger.

Daryl Dixon was slumped against a rusted metal pillar, his face a mask of pain. A severe wound along his side had him barely able to move, his bow resting uselessly on the floor beside him. His breath came in labored gasps as he tried to stay alert despite his injuries. The warehouse had become a trap, overrun by walkers, their guttural growls growing louder with each passing moment.

You, a skilled survivor and his steadfast companion, had been through countless perils together. This time, however, the stakes were higher. Daryl’s injury left him vulnerable, and the threat was imminent. You were determined to protect him. With a deep breath, you readied yourself, gripping a makeshift weapon—a metal shard attached to a sturdy stick.

The first walkers appeared, their groans filling the space with a chilling certainty. Without hesitation, you sprang into action. The clash was immediate and fierce. Each movement was a blend of desperation and precision, your weapon cutting through the encroaching threat. The walkers’ unnatural, jerky motions made them unpredictable, and every successful strike was met with the unsettling sounds of crumbling flesh and bone.

Daryl’s eyes, usually so steely, now held a mix of fear and frustration. He tried to rise, but pain kept him grounded. “Leave,” he rasped, his voice barely audible over the chaos. “Save yourself.” But you weren’t about to abandon him. You pushed through the throng of walkers, defending him with every ounce of strength you had.

Amid the battle, you carved out a temporary safe zone. The weight of your task was immense, each decision a matter of life or death. The relentless walkers seemed to multiply, their numbers overwhelming. Your focus was laser-sharp, every swing of your weapon purposeful and driven by the need to keep Daryl safe.

Slowly, the tide of battle began to shift. The walkers' numbers dwindled, their advance slowing as their bodies accumulated on the floor. You could feel your strength waning, but the sight of fewer walkers gave you renewed energy. With the immediate threat reduced, you hurried back to Daryl’s side.

You knelt beside him, breathless and worn. “We need to get you patched up,” you said, your voice shaky but determined. Daryl looked at you with a mix of gratitude and relief. The battle had forged an unspoken bond between you, a testament to the trust and reliance that had deepened over time.

Carefully, you assisted Daryl to his feet, guiding him through the wreckage of the warehouse. Exhaustion was evident in every step, but the silent understanding between you made the journey bearable. As you reached a safer corner, the immediate danger had passed, leaving a heavy but welcome silence.

In that moment of quiet, the severity of your situation and the strength of your connection became clear. The world outside remained perilous, but together, you had faced another deadly challenge and emerged stronger for it.

Request if you want something different 😊

Some writers for some reason:

This a character x fem!reader fanfic

You looked at yourself in the mirror while you put your blonde, long, straight hair up in a messy bun

You put some bracelets in your tiny itty bitty small microscopic wrists and admire how your dress compliments your fair, super pale and super soft with no imperfections porcelain skin

"Syphilia Smith come down this instant!" Your mother calls you

"I'm coming!" You yell with your soft, harmonic, melodic voice

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ A Mess ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

About: Your husband wasted no time getting his dick wet after the world ended. When you catch your adulterous husband in the act, you find an unlikely companion in Daryl Dixon.

Pairing: Reader!Walsh x Daryl Dixon

Era: Quarry -> Pre-Alexandria/Post-Terminus

Genre/Vibe: TWD typical things, Drama, Romance, Eventual Smut, Survival, Apocalyptic/Dystopian

Warnings: TWD typical violence, spoilers, character deaths, profanity, eventual smut, attempted SA, loss, grief

18+ MDNI

Parts: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten

'•.¸♡ Teasers ♡¸.•'

╰┈➤        "I'm confused." Andrea spoke up. 

        "Oh, allow me to clarify." You smiled, sickeningly sweet. Lori shook her head at you, but you ignored her. "Shane, my husband, and Lori, have been keeping a secret from us. Care to share with the class?"

        "(Y/N), man, come on. Why you gotta start problems?" Shane let out an exasperated sigh.

        "No? Okay, allow me to speak on your behalf, then. My husband has been fucking Lori, who, if you guys weren't aware, is married to Shane's best friend, who he claims is dead." You said.

»»-------------------►

╰┈➤        "I don't ever wanna catch you near her. Ya hear me? You so much as breathe too heavy in her direction and I'll fuckin' kill you. Ya got that?" Daryl got closer and closer to Shane's face with every word. When Shane didn't answer him; "I said do ya fuckin' understand the words that are comin' outta my mouth?"

»»-------------------►

╰┈➤       "You don't have to watch over me. I can take care of my own shit." You assured him.

        "I know." He said. You felt something warm wrap around your hand. You looked down and it was his own hand, laid over yours, fingers cupping under your palm lazily. 

        "What are you doing?" You asked, looking over your shoulder to him.

        "Dunno. Keep singin'." 

»»-------------------►

╰┈➤        "Here, let me show you." You whispered. You reached up for his face, his hands sliding softly off of your arms. When your palms found his checks,you tippy-toed up a couple of inches, and slowly leaned in, placing your lips softly on his. It wasn't a long, rhythmic kind of kiss. It was just simple and soft, and it lasted just a few seconds longer than a quick peck-and-go.

»»-------------------►

╰┈➤ He massaged you on the inside without ever losing his pace with his tongue. By this point you weren't even moaning anymore, you were blatantly whining. It was almost torture -- it felt so good. The pressure was just enough to keep you on edge, to build up that feeling in your stomach that spread all over, but not quite enough to get you there, not yet. He slipped another finger inside. Your lower half started buzzing, legs trembling as your hips jerked and twitched. You were getting so close.

Daryl Dixon x OC.

daryl dixon - it’s you.

warnings: walkers, violence, daryl being an asshole, sixty-nine, daryl being an absolute munch, swearing, spitting, biting, smacking, fingering, choking, degrading, unprotected rough angry sex. prison era s4.

3.3k words

“oh i’m the brat? you’re the one thats complaining.” you stormed out of your cell, following daryl. rick had told you and daryl that y’all had to go on a run together.

you and daryl never got along. there is always this tension between you two that you can’t pinpoint. when rick had told you, you were just as mad as daryl but you didn’t complain. daryl on the other hand had complained to rick about how annoying you were and that you were a complete brat.

“ya always fussin’ bout somethin’. don’t ya know when to shut ya trap.” he takes a drag from whatever he had in his mouth before looking up at you. just like in the gif. he was good looking beyond belief. would you ever say it out loud? hell no.

i looked back at him to notice he never took his eyes off of me. you broke the eye contact. mumbling a “fuck you” as i walked back into the prison to start getting ready for the run. you loaded your gun and slipped it into your waistband and put your knife in its little holder on your thigh.

you looked over your shoulder as carol came into your cell. “be safe out there, sweetie and try not to kill daryl.” you rolled your eyes and huffed out. “ill be safe but i can’t guarantee that last part, maybe ill feed him to the walkers.”

you hear a knock on the concrete wall and you looked up. “let’s go.” daryl huffed out and then turned on his heel and walked out. “ill see you later, carol” you threw your bag over your shoulder and headed out.

you stopped as soon as you got out. “no fucking way.” daryl was on his bike, not in a car, on his fucking bike. where i would have to physically touch him, breathe him in.

“come on, y/n cant ya just cooperate.” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “can’t you be fuckin’ normal and get in a car?” you grabbed the keys off of the door. he gave you a look that only meant that he wasn’t gonna budge.

“please just this once.”

he rolled his eyes and killed the engine to the bike. “fuckin’ bitch” he muttered under his breath. “i heard you asshole.” i walked to the grey suv. daryl following my tracks, just as i was about to open the door daryl pins me to the car.

“what’s your problem with me.” our faces inches away from each other. “let me go, daryl.” his face got closer. “answer my question first.” his eyes dropped to your lips before it came back up to your eyes.

a moment of silence passed before carl came running out. “y/n, you forgot..” daryl pushed off of the car. “sorry, if i interrupted.” daryl walked around and got in the passenger side. “no you didn’t interrupt. what’d you need?”

he handed you a gun. “you forgot it.” he ran back inside. you opened the door to the car and sighed. this was gonna be a long, long drive.

daryl had bitched the entire ride to the rundown store and now he was bitching for some unknown reason. “you bitch a whole lot for someone who said i was always fussing about something.”

“ ‘m not bitchin’ bout anything.” he grumbled. you looked over at him and sighed. “you asked what my problem is, whats yours? you always give me shit for every little thing.”

he pushed me against the side of the store we just left. putting his hands on both sides of my head so i was trapped. “ya wanna know what my problem is?” you throat moved as you very visibly gulped.

“it’s you.” he looked back at my lips, just like earlier but this time he looked linger. when his eyes came back up they were filled with something. lust. “you’re always bitching about something. always pushin’ my buttons. making me want ‘t bend you over a table and fuck ya’ dumb.”

you hated what he did to you. he turned you on when he shouldn’t at times he shouldn’t have. when he was killing walkers and his muscles flexed just the right way in the right lighting. when he was doing something to his bike and he was all greasy and sweaty. it shouldn’t turn you on but it does.

“do it.” you said in a whisper barely audible, but he heard you. his lips crashed onto yours. a rough, hot steamy kiss. all of y’alls built up anger and frustration put into a kiss.

his hands came up and picked you up by your thighs. one arm holding you up and the other groping your ass. you moaned into the kiss. his mouth leaving yours and traveling down your neck, leaving very prominent hickeys.

you didn’t want this moment to end. no matter how much you two fought, or screamed at each other, you knew how you felt about him. he was misunderstood, he felt like he didn’t belong anywhere. you knew that because thats how you felt too. you two “hated” each other because y’all were so alike.

daryl gently put you down. he took off your knife holder that was placed around your thigh, next was your shorts. you stopped his hand as they came around your waist.

“wait.” he opened his mouth to talk before you out your hand flew to his mouth shutting him up. “do you hear that?” faint snarls coming from around the store y’all we at.

he stood up taking your hand from his mouth and huffed out. “damn, walkers ruinin’ all ma fun” he picked up his bow and handed you your knife holder.

“we have to go” you tapped him, signaling walkers in the distance. we walked to the car. daryl got in the drivers seat this time. i got into the passenger seat and closed the door. only to be pulled over the console and into daryls lap.

“what’re you doing?”

he kissed me and locked the doors to make sure no walkers tried getting in. his hands were everywhere. everything he touched it felt like my skin was on fire. i loved his touch. no matter how much he said he hated me, i knew deep down it wasn’t true.

he let the seat back. his hands resting on your ass. “your pretty for a brat y’know tha” he pushed you towards him so know y’all were chest to chest. kissing you hard once again. he pushed your hips down into his. your mouth falling open as a moan slips out.

taking this opportunity to stick his tongue in your mouth, making your mouth his. “so sexy.” he grumbled out. his hands moving upwards taking off my tank top pushing over my head and throwing it into the passenger seat.

“ya have a nice pair of tits” i laughed and rolled my eyes. i placed my hands at the base of his vest and shirt and slipped it off of him, throwing it over in the passenger seat with my shirt.

i grinned down at him before grinding down on him, earning a groan from him. his body was god like i ran my hands up and down his chest.

“i wanna try something.” i broke the silence. he looked at me with a look that said ‘what’re you up to’. i lifted my hips and took of my shorts leaving a shocked expression on daryl’s face when he saw that i wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

“what? its the end of the world. i don’t have lots of underwear.” he shook his head not protesting. my hands going to the button of his jeans unbuttoning them. pulling them and his boxers down to pool around his feet.

sitting back on his thigh trying to figure out how i’m gonna do this. “stay laying down” i pushed at his chest trying to turn myself around. sighing in defeat. “a-little help?”

daryl laughed and helped turn me around. minutes later we finally did it. i got up on my hands and knees trying to scoot back but instead hit my head on the wheel honking the horn. “fuck.”

daryl taking my hips and guiding them to his face. “ya have a nice pussy too.” before bringing it down on his mouth. he teased my hole with his tongue before moving up and sucking my clit. all the sudden pressure on my clit made me forget what i was supposed to be doing, making me a mess.

“ya gon’ do somethin’ or ya jus’ gonna look at it” he stopped his motion and slapped my ass. i took his shaft in my hand and started to pump it. his mouth went back to my heat.

i took his tip into my mouth, sucking it before i took the rest of him in my mouth. he was making it really hard to focus on sucking him off when he was making me feel the best i’ve felt in years.

i moaned around his length causing him to buck his hips, making me gag. "mm, i've got ya" his voice getting deeper, rumbling deep into his chest as he allows two thick fingers to slide into your slick hole.

"oh.." you moan as you toss your head back, legs twitching as they threaten to close around his head. daryl only grunts before his fingers are moving, hooking them everytime they slide out to target your spot, thumb brushing against your throbbing clit. his pace is slow and tedious, dragging out the sensation until you forget your name.

your orgasm moving in closer than you thought, his teasing actions having more of an effect on your body than the rushed ones you've endured, this felt stronger and harder to hold back.

i took his cock farther down my throat, eager to get him to get his release. occasionally sucking his length, your hands doing most of the work but his tongue was driving you to a fast release and it felt amazing. your head flew up, your moans and panting traveled in the little car space.

your hips bucked and daryl’s hand smacked your ass cheek hard before he pulled you down to him as if he was trying to suffocate on your slick while you came.

“think ya can finish me off, brat?” he said smacking your already sore and red ass. you nod your head and go back to sucking him off. bobbing your head up and down, spit dribbling dow your chin and making a mess of daryl’s cock.

his hands kneading your soft, sore red flesh. his groans getting louder and he starts to buck up into your throat. grunts, groans, and gagging all to be heard throughout the car.

you could tell he was getting close by the way he was thrusting into your mouth and his groans. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum.” he starts to use your throat making you gag and moan around him.

he threw his head back and his motions stilled as he shot his load of hot sticky cum in my mouth. he pulls out and i swallow it.

the car ride was silent, nothing could be heard except our breathing and the wind as we drove down the roads. daryl slowed the car as we pulled up to the prison and we were met by carl and carol.

when the car came to a complete stop you were first to hop out. walking to your cell, not sparing daryl another glance. you pulled out the milk crate that had your clothes in it. pulling out some underwear, a brush and clothes before going to the showers.

you caught rick on the way out of your cell. “hey rick, do you have any towels and rags left? i’m out.” he nodded and led the way to where his things were. when you got there he handed you a clean rag and towel.

“thanks” you were about to leave before rick spoke up. “what took you and daryl so long on that run?” your face got got heated and you tried to speak but no words came out.

he laughed and shook his head. “have anything to do with these?” he moved your hair and touched the dark purple mark on your neck.

you pushed past rick saying you had to shower. you entered the showering room and heard a shower on already but that didn’t bother you it was normal, until you heard him.

“ya following me or somethin’?” you turn around and are met with daryl. “no, i just came to shower.” your eyes raked over his body, taking it all in. his wet hair clung to his face and a towel that hung dangerously low on his waist.

when your eyes traveled back up they met his. “i’m just gonna, y’know” you pointed towards the shower and turned around to get in. he was still standing there, watching you.

“do you mind?” you set your stuff down and turned the shower on. he still stood there saying nothing and staring at you. you turned around and took off your clothes stepping into the water.

you didn’t even care that he was there, he seen you earlier it’s no different now. you ran your hands through your hair, feeling the water hit your face. you turned around to see if daryl was still there only to find out he left.

you washed the walker blood, sweat and the activities from earlier off of you. after a few minutes, i turned off the water and wrapped myself in a towel and wringing out my hair.

i threw on a shirt and knew it wasn’t mine with how big it was. i slipped on a pair of panties and some shorts before walking back to my cell. you closed the cell door and got laid in your bed, hoping you could get some sleep.

you closed your eyes and tried to sleep, but all you could think about was daryl, about earlier. the loud sound of metal screeching made you shoot up. “m’sorry for wakin’ you.” he came in and shut the cell door. “i wasn’t sleeping. i couldn’t.” he sat on your makeshift — the two thin mattresses from the prison beds on the floor — bed.

he looked at you, the same look from earlier. lust. he pulled you over onto his lap. “y’know i fuckin’ hate you” he said before he closed the space between us, kissing me hard.

i needed him everywhere. i was grinding down on his lap. his lips connected with my neck, leaving love bites all over.

i quietly moaned out. his hands traveled down to my shorts, slipping one hand under the waistband. he brought his lips back to mine giving me another rough kiss.

his hand pushing past my thong. teasing my clit as he worked his way to my slippery hole. he slipped his thick fingers into my heat, almost immediately starting to fuck yourself on his fingers

his finger’s matching your pace. he pulled back from our kiss and smirked. “you’re so eager.” he took his hands out of your shorts and laid you down on your bed.

“lift your hips” he tugged at your shorts. you did as he said and lifted your hips for him. “such an obedient whore for someone who hates me so much.” he tossed your shorts somewhere beside you.

“fuck you” you gasped out. he came back up kissing you, biting your lip. moving his way down your body. he lifted your shirt over your head, throwing it wherever he threw your shorts.

he took a nipple into his mouth, his hand going down to rub my clit through my underwear. “fuck” i moaned. i bit my lip to suppress all the noise i was making, seeing as though there were people trying to sleep in the rooms next to mine.

a harsh slap got delivered to my face. “i want to hear your moans.” i shook my head, disobeying what he said. he stopped everything he was doing. another harsh slap. i still didn’t budge.

“now you don’t want to fuckin’ listen.” he wrapped his hand around your neck squeezing, not to much so he didn’t hurt you. no matter how much he claimed to hate you, he never wanted to hurt you.

gasping for air you open your mouth. “i don’t want them to hear.” his hand unwrapped from your throat. “i don’t give a shit.” he went back down and yanked your lacy thongs down and took no time putting his head between your thighs.

licking and sucking on your clit as your hands tangled in his messy hair. your back arching off of the mattress. “oh fuck daryl.”

his fingers collected the slick from your heat as he pushed his thick digits into you. all the pleasure you were getting was overwhelming because this is the first time in years since you’ve done this.

“i- fuck. daryl im gonna..” he pulled his fingers out and stopped sucking. you whimpered from the loss of contact. “daryl” you whimpered. he unbuttoned his pants and pulled them and his boxers down, kicking them off.

he was big. i looked up at him and he smirked. “you like what you see?” he grabbed me by my hips and pulled me closer to him. “shut up and fuck me.”

he lined himself up with my entrance and pushed in. we both hissed as he sunk into me. “you’re so damn tight” he huffed out. he started to pound mercilessly into me.

“oh, fuck.” i squealed out. daryl came down and bit my shoulder to keep his groans contained. i tried to keep my moans contained but it was all too much and i couldn’t keep them in.

“daryl” i moaned probably loud enough for the entire cell block to hear me. he was biting down so hard i think he drew blood. i tear slipped down my cheek. “what’re you cryin’ for” he continued to mercilessly pound into you.

“i- oh god.” he was hitting the perfect spot. “right there, fuck.” he put your leg on his shoulder, your mouth hanging open. no words came out, only pure sounds of pleasure.

“i’m gonna cum.” daryl’s hand came up to your mouth. “open.” he demanded and you did. he spit into your mouth. his finger tracing your jaw. “swallow it.”

you did as he said. his trusts were getting sloppy and you could tell he was close as-well by the way he was groaning and breathing.

“you gon’ cum with me? hmm? you gonna cum on my cock?” he pounded harder. i was practically screaming at this point. “yes, please make me cum. please daryl.” this is the first and the last time he will ever hear you beg.

the familiar knot in my stomach building up. daryl hitting the same spot over and over again until the tension in my stomach finally released. daryl following right behind me as he let his seed spill into me and rolled off of me.

we laid there for a couple minutes in silence, just listening to each others breaths. “you still hate me?” i turned my head to look at him. he was smiling like an idiot. “shut up, daryl.”

after a moment of silence, i huffed out. “i never hated you.” i smiled and climbed on top of him. he smiled back. “s’that so” i nodded my head with a mhm before closing the gap between us.

this kiss wasn’t angry, it wasn’t rough, it was sweet and gentle. “daryl dixon, i’ve done nothing but love you since i laid eyes on you.”

his hands resting on your hips tracing circles. “ya love me?” he looked into your eyes. you nod and smile a bit. “i wanna hear you say it again.” he smiled.

“i love you, daryl dixon.” he kissed me after i finished my sentence. “i love ya, too, y/n.” he pulled me closer to him. kissing me all over my face.

“wanna go for round two?” i laughed and dropped my head to his chest. “anything for you, mr. dixon.”

in the morning, you woke up with his arms around you and his face buried in your neck. you look to your side and grab your shirt and shorts and sit up. being careful to not wake daryl up. you slip on the shirt and you wiggle the shorts on getting up.

you walk out of the cell and make your way to the cafeteria, where you were met with the rest of the group. “morning” rick says. “good morning” the group was all looking at you while you made your food. “i’m surprised she can still stand.” carl said making the group laugh and rick to hit the back of his head.

you sat down at the table. “how’d you sleep” carol asked. “if she did get any sleep.” glenn said. your eyes shot up from your food. “what did you say?” she looked at glenn who’s hands shot up and he acted as if he hadn’t said anything.

daryl walked into the room causing everyone to look his way. “wha, i got somethin’ on my face or sum?” he made his way over to where i was sitting and sat next to me.

maggie walked in and came behind glenn. “you two think you could keep it down at night? some people actually try to get sleep.”

my face became red and daryl laughed. “m’bad i tried to shut ‘er up but she don’ listen.” i put my hands on my face and shake my head.

“so i’m taking this as you two are alrigh’ now, no more fightin?” rick said. me and daryl both nodded our heads. “yea, no more fightin’ for now.” daryl looked over at me and pulled me closer to him by my waist and he kissed my forehead.

this is..idk. lmk your opinion. im gonna try to figure out a schedule to post on but yeah. you should def. checkout my stories on wattpad (darylscvmdumpster) im not as active on there tho!

safe.

pairing: daryl dixon x gn!reader

warnings: none

A/N: a little drabble for you guys while i finish up on a ton of more fics :)

“You’re home,” Daryl’s head snapped up at the sound of your soft sleepy voice. You rubbed your eyes as he walked into the room, your face slightly puffy from your slumber.

“I am, did I wake ya?” Daryl winced at the thought of waking you up, walking over to your blanket covered body. Your eyes were still half lidded and to be honest, you were still half asleep.

Daryl reached down to caress your cheek, his eyes softening at the way your eyes fluttered closed and you nuzzled against his touch.

“No.. just wanted to be up and see you,” you mumbled, letting out a soft sigh as his hand moved from your cheek and into your messy hair.

Daryl huffed in amusement from the way you were basically asleep, “see me? Honey, yer sleepin’.”

Daryl’s amusement further heightened when you mumbled incoherently and struggled to keep your eyes open, “no… no ‘m up.”

“Ya ain’, go on an’ sleep.” He whispered huskily, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. You however decided that wasn't enough and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him close to you. Daryl grunted as he shifted his weight, leaning his upper half over you while you shoved his face into your neck. “Wha’ are ya doin’?”

His scratch of his beard coupled with his warm breath against your skin made you giggle slightly, turning your head to plant a cheeky kiss behind his ear. “Want to cuddle,” you mumbled.

“I’ll get to it in a moment, I need ta change. Been out all day,” Daryl grumbled, now conscious of his suffocating layers. He held still in your arms as you refused to let go and huffed out in frustration, bringing a gentle hand up to your waist. “Please baby, ‘m jus’ gonna change real quick and then ‘m all yours.”

His whispered promise warmed your heart and your grip on him loosened, allowing him to slip free from your arms. He looked down at the slight pout on your face, pinching your cheek gently before walking off to change.

Your head lolled to the side as your gaze followed him. The room was dimly lit by your bedside lamp, the warm glow just barely making him visible from the dresser. His back was to you as he shed his clothes, taking his time with the buttons on his shirt. He shrugged his shirt off and threw it into the laundry bin, your eyes running over the scarred skin, wanting nothing more than to run your hands down his back and over his shoulders. He began to unbuckle his belt and you figured it was too intimate, so you turned your head away and closed your eyes.

Soon enough, whatever sounds you were hearing began to dull and you found your brain shutting off into sleep. You felt warm. Warm knowing that you were safe in bed and not fighting for your life outside trying to find a sanction to sleep for the night. You were safe.

Your short-lived sleep was quickly taken from you as the bed dipped next to you. Your head turned towards the offending side, slightly delirious having been up and down for the past 20 minutes.

“Hey, hey, hey. ‘s jus’ me,” Daryl whispered soothingly, slipping under the blanket next to you. You quickly relaxed and closed your eyes again, letting him pull you against him. One of his hands held the back of your head while the other arm wrapped around your middle, your cheek pressed against his bare skin. “Light sleeper, huh?”

He chuckled quietly when he felt you smile, his hand gently stroking your hair. He made a mental note to be even more gentle when doing things around a sleeping you. Daryl moved to lay on his back, pulling you with him so you were half on top of him and you shifted yourself so your head was on his shoulder.

As you felt sleep begin to take over, you mustered up the energy to whisper, “g’night… love you.”

Daryl let out a sigh, the arm around your waist giving you a soft squeeze. “Love ya too, get some rest sweetheart.” You felt him reach over to turn off the lamp, his fingers lightly drumming over your stomach.

You started feeling that same safeness you felt when Daryl was around. Feeling that warmth he gave you not just physically, but emotionally. You enjoyed this feeling and hoped it’d stay forever. Sleep came to you quickly, letting yourself be taken away into a peaceful slumber.

my bday is coming and I need a fic about characters like Carl and Daryl and whoever else see you high and live vibing ya know !

Bett happy birthday boo!! I got youuu

Carl x high! reader Daryl x high! reader

Carl:

If people think Carl was the sober dude yall wrong

That motherfucker was the teenager who gets high behind his dad's back

Even as an adult he's stoned during shit thinking he's slick

He's not his dad was a cop but now that Carl's older he can't really say anything tbh

With you he is the dude you pass the bong to last cause he HUFFS that shit hard as fuck

Bro takes half the bowl in a hit ( this is targeted to a friend of mine. You know who you are)

But he's fun to smoke with he gets insulting but he gets so creative with it that it's just funny instead of insulting

One time Eugene walked in to yall playing uno and stared trying to tell yall how to play and out of nowhere he says to him " you look like if humans evolved from puffefish then had sex with a lizard."

Did it make sense. No no it did not. Was it funny absolutely

Other than that he's just chill he would honestly be the type to get tired and wanna nap with you

Or if you can find some old rachet DVD player that hasn't been destroyed yet yall watch a movie.

Daryl

He honestly is the exact opposite he gets high he wants to work on something like his motorcycle or a car or anything he can get his hands on really

He just wants to work and be on the move constantly

He's the Hugh one that constantly wants to take you on adventures to random places

If McDonald's was still a thing in the apocalypse he would fuck that shit up

He's also the most big backed motherfucker when he's high and if you have a plate no you don't cause he took tha shit

He spaces out most of the time though so he's not really to interesting high. Honestly it's hard to tell if he is

He crashes hard though after takes a fatass nap then wakes up feelin dizzy and shit yall know that weed hangover

Other than that just don't give him alcohol if he's drunk cause him and a crossfire are not a good match

Someone will get hurt 🤣

Sorry this is short I'm tired and lazy/ dead asf but I hope you still enjoy this for your birthday!! Have a good day/night my goblin friend 🖤🖤

Me at 2 am looking for the good angsty fanfics

Anyone want more fan fics?

Ever sort of want to have a kick to the face, squeeze your heart sort of reaction to a fic? Well @imamotherfuckingstar-lord slays it in this one ❤️❤️ It’s so subtle and authentic, I absolutely love it.

Just Ride

Daryl Dixon x Reader

“You ready?” Spencer called from the gate, waiting to open it up. Daryl nodded to Spencer, who pulled back the gate, Daryl sped forward passes a few walkers lingering outside. The wind blew his hair from his face, his blue eyes squint to focus on the empty road ahead. He can feel your arms wrapped around his waist, tightly holding on; the warmth of your head against his back, even after you got use to riding with him, you still held on so close. And when you felt brave enough, your fingers would creep up to his wrist, caressing them softly. It would bring a rare smile to Daryl’s face, one that always seemed reserved for you.

It was a 15 minute drive to today’s destination, one Daryl visit frequent, many times with you. It was your favorite spot near Alexandria, where the two of you could be fully alone, in the real world; not hiding behind those safe walls. It was near an abandoned cabin the two of you came across one day on a hunt. The two of you cleared it of the one walker inside, spending the day there. It was the first of many trips taken to the cabin, often wanting to escape the confinement of Alexandria. On one trip, Daryl held your hand as the two of you were walking to his motorcycle, when you noticed a tall patch of grass behind the cabin. You pulled the archer toward it, “Daryl, come on.” He tried to hold back his amusement, but when it came to you, he never could stop smiling. You brought a light into his life that never existed, that he felt undeserving of.

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OMG NO NO NO NOOO 😪😪

TWD Incorrect Quotes #44

Daryl: Why is Y/N cryin’? Aaron: She saw a leaf on the sidewalk and- Y/N: IT LOOKED SO CRUNCHY! Daryl: Please don’ say what I think yur gonna say- Y/N: AND WHEN I STEPPED ON IT THERE WAS NO CRUNCH! Daryl: NO, NOT THAT!

Daryl's three favorite memories,

2-

Daryl was leaning against the corner of that small room as loud music played. The tears streaming down his face were inevitable, and he was trying everything he could to stop them and at least close his eyes. Lost in hopelessness and the desire to die, he couldn't shake the guilt of the situation, along with not knowing what was happening outside or how Kat was doing. He stared at a fixed point between the dim light coming in and the floor, reminiscing about an old memory from when they were at the prison.

—Judith, I promise if you stop crying for Aunt Kat, I'll let you play with my pens, okay? —I heard the whisper of my "girlfriend's" soft voice as she returned from guard duty; dawn was breaking through the cell windows.

—What are you doing?—I leaned against the bars of the open door, looking at her. She looked tired, her hair tied back haphazardly, and dark circles prominent under her eyes.

—I accidentally hit the metal plate with the candle and woke her up, so I'm trying to calm her down so the others can sleep a little longer.—Kat rocked the baby in her arms as she whispered to him, but the little troublemaker wouldn't stop crying.

I approached her and took the baby from her arms, resting the baby's head on my shoulder and moving around the small space just as I had seen Carol and Beth do many times before. Kat tied her hair back better, focusing on organizing the scattered papers on the desk quickly.

—Did you get any sleep? —I asked, running my hand over Judith's head.

—Sleeping these days is a waste of time. I have to make the most of it to organize the group my way while Rick is grieving and having schizophrenic episodes anyway—she replied brusquely. I raised an eyebrow at her tone, which made her relax, calm her shoulders, and lean against the table.

Her arms crossed over her chest as she sighed, looking at her worn-out sneakers and the dirty floor. I could see her biting her lip hard as she avoided my gaze.

—You should sleep— I said, looking at her.

—At the moment, that's a luxury I can't afford.

—I know we're all going through a tough time. Lori's death was unexpected, but believe me, even when we have to regroup without Rick, we all take some rest, even if it's just a little.

—I know, and all I care about is that everyone rests so we can work tomorrow. But I took Rick's place for a reason; I can handle these situations. I can multitask, but time waits for no one, and I can't waste minutes or hours closing my eyes only to realize tomorrow that no one is guarding the fence or that essential supplies are missing. — his hands moved to his hips as he spoke.

—I know, really, I do, dear, but you can't carry the entire group on your shoulders, okay? We're supposed to be a team, or isn't that what you always say? —I asked in a softer tone as the baby began to fall asleep.

—That's what I say, but every team has a leader. Rick was the leader, but now he's seeing things in the air or ignoring his son, and I can't let everything fall apart. We all contribute in some way, but there will always be someone who has to bear the brunt of it, and that's okay because I want to be that person. I have ideas and an organization that's self-sufficient and fair to everyone, better than what we had before—she grabbed her papers and showed them to me, proving her point.

I sighed heavily and approached her, picking up the scribbled sheets with indecipherable handwriting and putting them back where they were before embracing her tightly against my chest. I could feel her muscles relax under my touch as she wrapped her arms around my body.

—I'm pretty sure your plan for managing everything and ensuring equitable tasks will be a success, I know it. But I need you to rest because when you go to manage everything and control or do your tasks, it'll be very hard for you. You'll get tired, and somehow you'll end up ruining your perfectly planned work— I spoke against her hair, kissing her forehead gently.

We remained silent, enjoying the rays of sun beginning to enter through the small window, the light gradually warming our skin.

—¿You are going to sleep?

—No, I have to explain my plan and convince everyone that it's the best idea. Forget all of Rick's work to do what I want while he's grieving. Besides, I promised Lori to take care of her son, so I have to give everything I can to make his grieving process as bearable as possible and not force his sister onto him as an obligation— she pulled away from me as she spoke, running her hands over her face to wake herself up.

—Carl is a smart kid, ¿okay? He will realize when you are with him out of obligation and fatigue, and that will not help.

—But at least I'm doing something, okay? I'm not trying to shield him from pain or ignore him like Rick does. I promised Lori I'd take care of her son and daughter, and if I have to collapse from exhaustion to do it, I will, not just for him, but for everyone.

—You should be able to rest and enjoy the possible stability it gives you. Not carrying all the work or the burden of the group, trying to live a normal life that we will never have again. That's your problem too, Kat. You are trying to paint reality rosy so that we can feel good about the little normality we have in this new world.

¿The problem? When everything goes to hell, it is a much harder blow for everyone to face reality.

—I can't do it. Someone has to suffer for everyone else to be happy, and I offer myself as a tribute to the harsh reality, so everyone can have a plate of food, shelter, family, comics, and baby food—she was about to slam her hand on the table, but my tense look at Judith stopped her in time, letting her hand drop slowly onto the wood.

I sighed, she was as stubborn as a mule, but I wouldn't stop until she could close her eyes for at least five minutes.

—Let's make a deal, ¿okay? I need to sleep now. I'll give you three hours to do everything, and if you're not in my bed with me by 9, I'll come looking for you— I pointed at her sternly.

She gave me a dirty look, but she nodded anyway, just in time to hear the whole group starting to get up because the sun was already high in the sky.

I left Judith in Carol's arms before walking to my cell and collapsing onto the lousy bed to grab a couple of branches that weren't yet arrows to distract myself, waiting for her to come to my arms. Calculating the time with a tap of my foot against the wall and in my mind, counting the seconds and minutes like a clock.

I knew the three hours had passed because no one was in the dining area, and everyone was scattered with papers in their hands. It seemed like everyone had agreed to try Kat's idea, even if they didn't understand her handwriting or the concept, judging by the confusion on their faces, like Glenn's.

I was about to get up heavily and my eyes barely open, but I saw her walking tiredly to my cell.

—40 minutes, just that, Glenn's going to come wake me up because I know he won't have any compassion if I get mad at him for letting me sleep longer—she nestled into my chest as if it were her pillow and wrapped her arms around my neck.

—You and Maggie have the poor guy trapped between a rock and a hard place—I said with laughter in my voice, closing my eyes and enjoying her weight on my body.

I chuckled before feeling her lips on mine and then resting her head against my neck, my hands on her waist resting as if it were my home between the worn seams of her jeans and the little skin left exposed by the short shirt she was wearing.

Hello, I hope you like it and that you can give it a like or reblog to reach more people. English is not my native language, so if there is any mistake, please let me know respectfully <3

Daryl's three favorite memories

3-

—You should take advantage of the fact that there's a long barrier and a roof over our heads to rest at least a bit— Kat's voice pulled me out of my thoughts as I stared out the window.

—Normally it's me telling you that you should sleep, like now that you should be with your eyes closed taking care of Carl— I said crossing my arms over my chest.

—I can't if you're not beside me to hold me.

—You're a spoiled brat, Kat— I shook my head as I looked down at my chest.

—Maybe— she rested her head on my shoulder.

We both stood in silence, gazing at the starry sky, listening to our breathing and occasionally the breathing of others.

—The sky will look better outside, come with me— she took my hand and pulled it with a slight smile.

We left the house being careful not to wake anyone. She was very poorly dressed, only wearing her red plaid shirt buttoned up to her chest and bare feet, so I gave her my vest as if that would help.

She leaned her forearms against the railing of the white porch while the moon and I stood behind her with my arms beside hers, gazing at her while we both sighed.

—It reminds me of my previous home, before everything started.

—Go wake everyone up, we're leaving now— I said as I stepped away, and she grabbed my hand.

We stared into each other's eyes again as I approached the railing, now her elbows resting against the cold wood and her eyes on mine, my hands on her waist without breaking eye contact.

—Not the aspect of a racist neighborhood full of multimillionaires but in the sense of a private place full of houses, artificial air, and the superficiality with which reality is painted outside of this place— she said as she touched my chin, analyzing the small hairs I had.— These people don't know what's really out there, and it shows from the plasticity of the environment.

—I never thought I would say it, but now I miss being outside.

She let out a small laugh, wrapping her arms behind my neck and pulling me towards her.

—It's only been hours, give this dollhouse a chance— she said with laughter in her voice, and I just gave her a dirty look.— Or until I take over the place, whichever comes first.

I laughed with her then, knowing her, she would be the new leader in a sort of coup d'état if she found more flaws than what she already had on a list in that stupid notebook she always carried around.

—My girlfriend is always going to be the next dictator of every place we go to, ¿right?— I asked, burying my face in her neck and smelling the cleaning products she forced me to use.

—Not a dictator, I like to think of myself as a kind of savior superior to the previous leaders.

—And then the narcissist is me, obviously.

She laughed, grabbing my face and pulling me away from her neck to be inches apart.

—I know you feel uncomfortable, really, I know, it's just like you looked around with disgust but believe me, for once in our lives, ignoring the harsh reality is going to come to us to relax at least our shoulders a bit— her voice was sweet, her gaze hopeful.

She always comforted Carl, saying that everything would be fine because somewhere near or far there was a place where we could all be together as a family and give him and Judith a "normal" life. Since Terminus, that hope began to bother me, but now she seemed so happy within what she was accustomed to before that I couldn't help but smile.

—I don't want anything to happen, I want to protect everyone— I said, playing with the fabric of her waist.

—I know, Daryl, really, I know, but in this world, I think we should already know that something is always going to happen, and we should also learn that there will be few places or moments where we could breathe safely, at least for a while, this is one of those times, I know everything seems so Barbie-like but for once, you should be able to lie down and live the heterosexual and vanilla fantasy of the American dream.

—We said we wouldn't have children— I looked at her confused.

—Not with ours, but with Carl and Judith or whoever happens to be the cool guys with dogs and cats, Deanna said we could have a house as a "young" couple to have new population, I think she wanted us to have children. and no pets, but never specified— She swayed his hips from side to side with a teasing smile on his face.

—I highly doubt she meant having children after asking in front of the whole group if he was your father— I looked at her with a sour face seeing her amused smile.

—It was funny, actually.

—For you, not for me, it's the first time they've told us that, and I'm not even that old— I said with indignation but with some fun in my face; this conversation could be taken too seriously.

—There are a couple of years difference between you and me, we know that, I think we were so used to everyone in our world being people who knew we were from the beginning that it caught you by surprise but not me.

—Yes, because you're the sweet and young girlfriend of this old and grumpy man who could be your father, of course, you won't mind being called my daughter.

—A little, I didn't really mind, but it was still weird, I didn't feel very comfortable with how natural it was for him to say it.

We both fell silent for a while, looking at each other in the eyes, but in my head, I could only think about how lucky I was to find a woman like Kat, things like these situations that I knew were going to happen since 16 years of difference is too much.

I could see the rest of the people in that plastic place and I realized how things were.

I noticed the looks that were directed at Kat; I never forgot how beautiful my girlfriend was. It never crossed my mind to not give her at least one compliment a day, as in my eyes, she was the most beautiful woman on earth. But I also noticed that now more unfamiliar and shallow people around us looked at her with eyes beyond doubt or fear. It struck me to the core to have been so accustomed to being the only one who could see her in that way, as everyone else was family, which now left me banging my head against the wall.

Our age difference had always been marked, but after so much time together, it was hardly noticeable, neither to us nor to the group, so it became something normal. Now, with many more people her age and the same youth, I had some doubt that she might see that she was with an old, bitter, tired, and fed-up man, and might leave for someone with her same energy and positivity.

—¿What are you thinking about?— she asked, running her fingers through my long hair.

—That I don't deserve you, but you're still with me— I said as I looked at her.

She straightened up, leaving her relaxed posture behind and looked at me with concern, grabbing my hands and leaving them in the middle of both of us.

—¿Is this because of what Deanna said or because I laughed? Because I swear my intention wasn't to make you doubt our relationship; it was just something funny— she said, worried, and I wanted to kick myself.

—It's not because of that, darling, but it's related a bit. There are so many people your age that I'm afraid you'll realize you're with an old man like me, knowing that there are many more possibilities with someone like them.

She relaxed as she looked at me teasingly.

—Daryl, I don't want anyone my age; I don't want anyone else but you, the one who has been with me all the way. Even though we didn't get along at first, we managed to iron out our differences, and look where we are. I want the man who held my hand and supported me all the time, and believe me, the age of both of us isn't a very important factor for me because you could be my age, or I could be yours, and the situation would be the same, ¿right?— her hands framing my face with a smile that melted my heart.

I just nodded.

—I love you, ¿okay?— she said as she looked at me with a small smile.

We had agreed a long time ago that "I love you" between us would only be in very serious moments because it was a true show of love for us. I could still remember our first "I love you" when the prison was attacked.

—I love you— I said as I kissed her lips forcefully, pressing her hips against the railing.

Daryl could see the house where they had spent their first night in Alexandria, while everyone was gathered with him except Kat, who was in the house they shared with their little cat Luna. He wanted to run to her after escaping from the Saviors and reunite with the group, but according to Maggie, she had fallen into a deep depression, so things had to be taken very calmly.

Hello everyone, I wanted to clarify that I'm not a native English speaker, so if there are any errors, please let me know with utmost respect. Don't forget to give a like if you enjoyed it or reblog to reach more people. Sending greetings and kisses to all <3

nothing else matters

rockstar!daryl x leadguitarist!reader (rivals to lovers)

first part.

summary: you’re the lead guitarist in a band, and daryl dixon is the biggest singer of your generation. you were born to be rivals, but but you’re made to love each other.

warnings: rockstar!daryl x leadguitarist!reader, m!reader, rivals to lovers, abuse of drugs and alcohol, sassy!daryl, rock & roll, rough kiss.

words count: 2K+.

based on my headcanons and this ask. (thanks bro you’ve given me an incredible idea)

very proud of this work, i hope you all like it.

There’s a reason why the sun leaves the sky every night. Light isn’t meant for the darkness.

Daryl was smoking a cigarette, leaning against his motorcycle. The smoke filled his lungs and drifted out through his nose. His sharp eyes seemed to take in everything and yet focus on nothing.

Your world, on the other hand, was upside down. Nerves made your fingers tingle. You had a guitar slung over your back and a bottle of rum in your hand. Your heart was pounding so hard that you almost told it to calm down, or you’d both be stuck on the edge of success. Today was your first day with your new band.

When you got to the venue door, it was locked. You knocked a few times with your knuckles. Nothing. Not a sound inside. Frustrated, you turned around and saw a guy leaning on a bike, puffing on a cigarette. The smoke clung to his lips, and your body tensed. He brushed his hair out of his face and gave you a lazy, half-asleep look.

“They open in ‘bout an hour,” he murmured in a raspy voice. Suddenly, you heard something more—the tune that wouldn’t stop playing in your head. The one you couldn’t help but hum, even unconsciously. Whether you were showering or cooking, those lyrics and that addictive melody followed you everywhere.

That guy was Daryl Dixon. The lead singer of Arrows, the city’s hottest new band.

Your first instinct was to show your admiration, but you took a deep breath instead. You were in the same game now and had to make your own space. You took a swig from the bottle to get into character.

“So, what you doin’ here, then?” you asked, your voice a little rough from the strong alcohol. Daryl’s eyes flicked over you from head to toe and back up again. “You lookin’ to grab a seat at the bar?”

You laughed, but he didn’t. He just ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his mouth dry from the smoke.

“I’m playin’ tonight,” he said bluntly, cheeks hollowing as he took a deep drag. He looked at your guitar and nodded at it with his ring-covered fingers. You could’ve sworn you saw one with a skull and another with some kind of monster. "Ya even know how to play that thing, or is it just for looks?"

An immature thought flashed through your mind, and you stuffed one hand into your pocket. You knew how to play it all right; you’d practiced a bunch of his songs.

“I’m pretty good,” you said, holding his gaze. Daryl nodded, but his eyes stayed blank. Not even a hint of curiosity. It was a void you could either float in or drown in.

“I’m playin’ tonight too,” you said, gripping the neck of the bottle as you looked at him. It was impossible to look away from this guy, no matter how hard you tried.

He tossed the cigarette to the ground and ran a hand through his beard. He was wearing a leather jacket you’d seen at his shows.

“When?” he asked, stepping closer, his presence so intense it made you tighten your grip on the bottle.

“Nine,” you answered, and a smirk crept onto Daryl’s lips, making your jaw clench.

He was just inches away when he tapped you twice on the shoulder.

“Well, looks like you’re my openin’ act,” he said, licking his lips before unlocking the door with a key you hadn’t noticed. Standing in the doorway, he gave you a cocky smile. “Don’t put ‘em to sleep; I don’t wanna have to wake ‘em up.”

Before you could respond, Daryl stepped inside and shut the door right in your face.

Asshole.

A few more years and you were quite a celebrity. You enjoyed doing concerts in cities you had only seen on TV before, and women were crazy about you. You couldn’t take two steps without being stopped for an autograph; you were the sensation of the moment. And it was just as well that you couldn’t sing, or the spotlight would have been all yours.

That night, you were in Chicago, backstage at a festival. You were practicing some chords on your guitar while Glenn (your best friend) was arguing with the sound guy for not paying attention to something. You were murmuring a Nirvana song until you saw the guys from Arrows approaching you. It had been many years since you last saw them.

The drummer of the band walked up to you and offered his hand. He told you he liked the way you played a particular chord.

Daryl was wearing a vest with wings on the back, sunglasses that covered his eyes, and he had the same rings on his fingers. You remembered what he had said to you the day you met, and you couldn’t help but move closer to him.

"Now we're headlining," you said, making him turn around and take off his glasses. His blue eyes burned you.

"Congrats," he said, looking into your eyes and then at your lips. It was so subtle you didn’t know if it was just in your head or if he really did it.

"Daryl!" the guitarist of his band called out to him, and he turned his back on you again. His indifference hit you like an arrow.

"I'm havin’ problems with my wife, man," he confessed loudly enough for everyone to hear. “She saw some pics of me with another girl, and she's freakin' out. I gotta get home and sort it out.”

You shared a laugh with your best friend, who had grown tired of tormenting the sound guy.

"Don’t fuck with me, man," Daryl said, clearly frustrated, as he fixed his clear gaze on him. "We gotta perform in front of over fifty thousand people."

Glenn took a few steps forward and approached Daryl, placing his hand on his shoulder. You didn’t understand why he did it until he opened his impertinent mouth.

“My guitarist can help y’all out,” he said with conviction, and you felt your blood rush to your face. You kept your cool, lifted your chin, and crossed your arms.

“Why would I do that?” you asked, feeling Daryl's gaze slide over your body—your tense neck, your muscular arms crossed against each other, and your makeup that only deepened your features.

Your best friend didn’t expect your answer; he knew you were always there to lend a hand. He frowned and let out a soft laugh, shaking his head.

“You know their songs,” he pitched, making your heart start to pound. Daryl was surprised by this revelation; he didn’t expect you to know his songs. He placed a cigarette between his lips and looked at you.

“Ya don’t gotta do it, it’s no big deal,” Daryl murmured without giving it much importance.

You clenched your teeth and nodded.

“I’ll do it,” you said, running a hand through your hair. “There’s a whole mess of folks waitin' on us.”

Daryl smiled, and you felt something deep in your heart. He was still your rival, but he burned you as much as a lover.

You let your bony fingers caress the strings of your guitar with expert technique as you played the opening chords of Metallica’s “Until It Sleeps.” Nothing else existed in this world but you and your instrument. You allowed the melody to seduce you and transport you to a new realm. You knew the lyrics so well that your lips moved almost instinctively. You lifted your smoky-eyed gaze and saw Daryl drinking a beer while watching you.

You continued playing, and Daryl took the opportunity to lose himself in the way your fingers moved, the grace with which you strummed the strings, and your feet keeping the beat. He found himself staring at the blackness that clouded your eyelids and the way you parted your lips every time the chorus came around.

He hated with all his soul that he couldn’t admit how amazing you were.

He hated with all his heart how you made it even more perfect.

He wanted to move closer to you and sing along.

He wanted so many things that he just stayed there, finishing his beer.

An up-and-coming band finished their set, and it was Arrows’ turn. You shot Glenn a death glare, and he just winked at you. You had no idea what that was about. You sighed and stepped onto the stage. The applause was so deafening it almost left you without hearing. Your anxiety turned into something almost surreal. Daryl kept his eyes locked on you and the guitar hanging from your shoulder.

“Ready?” he asked, and you nodded.

You were in sync with the band; you started right on cue and ended almost perfectly. Everyone supported you and trusted your technique, which made you shine on stage. But everything began to unravel when you heard his voice. His voice sank into your bones and made you feel so many things you couldn’t even name. You watched his hair, the way his body moved while he added his voice to your music, and your whole world seemed to tremble. Sometimes you had to play the strings harder just to remind yourself that you were there. Playing with him.

Daryl’s grayish eyes were locked on you during the solos. He parted his lips and smiled. You couldn’t tell if he was teasing you or genuinely impressed.

When you thought the show was over, you took a moment to look at the thousands of people. They were pumped up, going wild for Dixon. Everything was going just as you expected until Daryl signaled his bassist and started playing a song. You gripped your instrument and swallowed hard. That song wasn’t on the setlist you’d been given.

That song was your favorite, but you’d buried it in the “forced forgetfulness” drawer after what happened with Daryl at the bar.

The idiot had released it a few months after you met. The song was about a night with a girl in a nightclub. She’d done her eyes up with dark makeup and had a tough attitude. The lyrics described how her hands touched him like guitar strings and how she straddled him, moving as if she were the star of a movie. It was about a girl he wanted but couldn’t truly have, because after their one night together, he knew they both belonged to the same sky, but at different points.

Click.

You looked at your hands on the guitar and remembered your own face. You heard every lyric, how it described her shining. You thought you were dreaming until he gave you a look that made you forget how to breathe.

You’re such an idiot, Daryl Dixon.

“What the hell was that?” you demanded as you barged into Dixon’s dressing room. You had a few minutes before it was your band’s turn.

Daryl was checking himself out in the mirror, and you were right behind him. You were wound up, your heart racing, and you couldn’t believe what had just happened—even if half of it was probably just in your head. He was your rival; you’d spent half your careers making each other’s lives miserable, trying to one-up each other. It wasn’t fair that, when you finally shared the stage with him, he sang that song.

“What?” he asked calmly, fiddling with his rings.

“Uh…” You swallowed and hesitated. No, it didn’t make sense to say what you wanted. ““You sang a song without tellin’ me. Y’all should’ve—”

Daryl unbuttoned his vest because it was sweltering in the room. You noticed his chest and a new tattoo on his abdomen. He scratched the back of his neck with a fake hint of embarrassment and gave a small laugh.

“Yeah, we shoulda told ya ‘bout that song,” he said, moving closer to you as if drawn by some invisible force. “What’s the deal? You don’t like it? If it makes ya feel any better, you played it real good.”

His condescension got under your skin, and you closed the gap until you were almost touching. You were fuming and couldn’t figure out why. Maybe you were still mad because Glenn had pushed you onto that stage with him. His eyes locked onto yours, and he raised his chin, challenging you to keep eye contact. His body was close, almost naturally dominating. In this game, no one was going to win.

“Who’s the song about?” you whispered near his lips. “Who is she?”

You pressed your lips to his, lingering to steal his breath. He tasted like alcohol and weed. Daryl froze. Maybe you’d made a huge mistake. You cleared your throat, shook your head, and started for the door.

Before you could leave, Daryl pushed you against the wall. The shove was unexpected, rough, and bold. You locked eyes, and before you knew what was happening, his lips were on yours. The kiss was fierce and hungry. His hand, covered in metal, wrapped around your neck and you let out a moan. His tongue danced with yours, and you both nearly lost your breath.

All your heat gathered in one part of your body, and you pressed your hips against him, making sure he felt you.

“Since I’ve known ya, all my songs’ve been ‘bout you,” he admitted, pulling away and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, still wet from you.

Your chest heaved as you looked at him.

Glenn knocked on the door and said it was almost time.

“I didn't like your song,” you confessed, holding his gaze.

Daryl turned around. You saw him laughing thanks to his reflection in the mirror.

“Maybe I’ll like it when you write about something real,” you said, making his mood shift completely.

He sat down on the couch, spreading his legs slightly, and you felt a rush of heat. He softly touched his thigh with his hand.

“Give me a reason then,” he murmured, drawing out the words.

“I’m sorry, but I have to keep being a star, Daryl Dixon,” you said firmly, walking away.

There’s a reason why there are stars in the sky. They’re meant for someone to look at in the dark.

this is my mood rn but hugging my pillow while reading. so damn cute, so wholesome 😭

aftercare / daryl x mute!reader

summary: after spending a night with your boyfriend, you need to tell him how much you love him during aftercare. but the only problem is that you can't.

warnings: daryl x reader, mute!reader, fluff, kisses, sightly angst, aftercare, mentions of sex (they just had it ♡).

words count: 880.

taglist: @negansbestie & @vaniniweenie / if you want me to add you, just let me know!

You pulled a thin cotton sheet over your bare skin. Its softness embraced your legs, just as it did your arms. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, and when you opened them, the darkness was gently pierced by the faint glow of fragile stars. Your body was still unraveling all the emotions—your lips, swollen and tasting faintly of him, your hands still feeling as though they were intertwined with his. Deep inside, an ache settled in the space he left behind.

Your hazelnut-colored hair spread across the pillow, and in a flash, you remembered something that made your cheeks burn—how he loved to grab it, pull it, in the heat of the moment. In a world where sound had been stolen from you, every sensation became sharper, a pleasure heightened when it was him who provided it.

Daryl sat at the edge of the bed, framed by the window, bathed in the soft light of the stars, as if they clung to him like dragonflies to a flower. You smiled, feeling a slight pull at the corners of your mouth, the happiness you felt by his side so immense it almost hurt.

What you admired most about him was how he embraced silence, turning it into a safe place. He rarely spoke, even though he knew you could read his lips; instead, he always tried to use his hands. A month after meeting you, he found a book to teach himself sign language, just so he could tell you one thing.

"I want to teach you how to use a bow." He could’ve communicated it more easily, but he wanted to learn your language. Soon after, he started using his new skills to warn you of danger or to tell you he’d brought food. Everything he did was genuine; they were little details he had for you because his heart guided him. That made your heart tell you to love him.

You had never been this lucky before.

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you wiped it away before he could notice. The same finger that caught your tear traced the scars along Daryl’s back. He turned his head slowly, catching your gaze. Every time you were together, he would ask if you’d enjoyed it, if there was anything he could do differently, or if you wanted more. That last question was always the hardest, because there was no reality in which you wouldn’t want more of him.

You parted your lips, trying to form a word. It had been years since you’d attempted this. You knew it was impossible; sound was a world closed off to you, but it still felt unfair not being able to tell him you loved him. Daryl turned gently when he realized what you were trying to do, placing his warm hand on your cheek.

Your throat ached from the effort. Heat surged there, yet no sound would come. You felt helpless, overwhelmed by the pain of not being able to express how much he made you feel. Daryl picked up the book to refresh his memory, and it broke your heart even more. He spent hours learning your language, while you couldn’t speak a word of his.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, his gray eyes searching yours. You pressed your lips together because you didn't wanted to be in tears.

"Nothing," you signed with your right hand, though your heart ached. You sat up in bed, letting the sheet fall from your torso.

Daryl moved closer, placing his lips gently on your bare shoulder. is touch made you shiver, and his lips were as soft and warm as ever. Before he could pull away, you reached for him, bringing your mouth to his, deepening the kiss, letting your tongue savor the taste of him. You wanted him to understand everything you couldn’t say. He wasn’t expecting that boldness and gently pulled back.

Before he could speak, you moved your hand swiftly.

"I just wanted to tell you I love you." Daryl blinked, staring into your eyes.

"You’ve been telling me all night," he replied softly. A wave of embarrassment washed over you as you lay back down. He didn’t hesitate to move over you, his lips tracing delicate patterns on your neck, collarbone, shoulder, and down to your stomach. He always lingered there, he loved leaving kisses on your belly.

He lifted his head slightly, and you tenderly caressed the scar beneath his eye.

"I wish I could say it out loud..." You traced the words with your lips, and he understood them instantly, without even looking at your hand. He dragged his lower lip from your belly button to the mole near your most sensitive spot. You ran your fingers through his hair, feeling your heart open wide.

He moved back up to kiss you, and you glanced at his hand.

"I love you," he signed. You smiled, mirroring the same sign back to him.

He lay beside you, and you rested your head on his chest. Even if the words would never be spoken, together you had created a language of touches, signs, and kisses that no one could break. You hoped with all your heart that your future daughter would be able to say those words for you—words you would have shouted a thousand times for this man you loved.

this absolutely made my night better, istg

To Kiss or To Kill. | Daryl Dixon |

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Masterlist

Summary: You and Daryl's relationship did not start kind. It did not begin as a friendship that turned sour over a quarrel. It began with fists and insults and continued this way until unforeseen circumstances leave you discovering that maybe Daryl and you were cut from the same cloth.

Warnings: rivals to lovers trope, daddy issues, language, descriptions of fights + bodily injuries, brief mentioning of homophobia, attempted SA, Reader is mentioned to be bisexual.

Word Count: aprox. 10k

Era: Prison to Alexandria

A/n: This is not my proudest work and I definitely think I could've done better with the material but I hope it can still be enjoyed!

Song recommendations: Ultraviolence - Lana Del Ray, Daylight - David Kushner , Sun Bleached Flies - Ethel Cain

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A lemon is sour from the start and rots with age.

The relationship you shared with Daryl could be described as said lemon.

It was nearing the end of summer. And though this meant the end of scorching heat, the winter proved to be a difficult season for survival. This morning at the prison had begun like any other. Daryl, Maggie, and Glenn we’re set out on a run to find any supplies necessary for the growing community. With all the new folk after the fall of the Governor only a few weeks before, it put more pressure on the group in their endless searches.

The town in which the prison resided did not hold many options when it came to scavenging but there was one place not yet explored. Pike County High School, the only high school in the small town of Zebulon, Georgia. Daryl thought the plan was futile. What was he to find in a high school besides dusty textbooks and inappropriate drawings in the bathroom stalls?

But none the less, Rick sent the trio on their way with a list of items in hand.

The school was as Daryl expected. Papers were thrown about the floors. Windows were broken leaving glass shards to crunch underneath their boots. Desks and chairs were thrown about. And worst of all, there was an eeriness that loomed the chaotic halls. But there was something else hanging in the air, stillness.

Maggie banged her gun on the rusted lockers and waited for any walkers to make themselves known. But the silence that followed was so loud you could practically hear the wind gliding through the shattered windows. Daryl took it a step further and threw a chair down the hall, creating a loud clattering noise as it collided with the wall. Yet still, nothing.

"Alright," Glenn muttered, his uneasiness just as high as the others. "Let's get what we need and get the hell out." Glenn pulled the list from his pocket, "Daryl find the nurse's office, take whatever you find no matter how unimportant it seems. Rick asked us to find some good books for the kids." Glenn passed the list over to a very unamused Daryl.

"Guess I ain't smart enough to find some books."

Daryl walked the halls of the school, crossbow in hand, keeping his ears peeled for any movements that weren’t his own. The silence unsettled Daryl for two reasons. There could be someone residing here which would make sense with the absence of walkers. But he could not shake the thought that there were once children who roamed these halls. Kids who were Carl’s age now. Kids who were planning who they wanted to be, and what they wanted their lives to be. But now their dreams were just as grim as these empty halls.

He spotted it as his gaze wandered from the walls to the floor.

Droplets of deep red stained the tile, varying in size and opacity. Daryl dragged his fingers along the droplets, smearing the coagulated blood. The blood was not as dry as Daryl had hoped.

Daryl drew his bow closer to himself, resting his finger on the trigger, and slowing his steps as he followed the trail of crimson dots. They led him exactly where he needed to be, the nurse's office.

The wood door creaked open, the natural light from the windows lighting the room. The scene worsened in the room. There were now blood smears staining the floors, cabinets swung open and drawers left agape. Someone had obviously barged in in a hassle, with desperate need to help themselves.

What concerned Daryl was the adjoined room to the far left, he could not see into the area unless he approached it directly. Keeping his bow up, he proceeded. Just as the tip of his bow peeked its way around the corner, it was knocked from his hands with a single blow.

Daryl had not known what knocked his bow from his grasp but he sure as hell felt the hit to his jaw.

The punch you had thrown sent a throbbing through your right hand, and the tendons in your arm fizzled with the sudden force. The man reacted quickly, grabbing you by both arms and pulling you away from the wall you had been hidden behind.

You ripped an arm from his grasp quick enough to unsheathe the blade on your thigh. The struggle continued, both of you equally pulling at the other in an attempt for dominance while simultaneously avoiding the cut of the blade. Random objects clattered to the ground in the tussle, including an old coffee mug falling and shattering.

The wound you had acquired on your leg was not helpful in this situation. Had your adrenaline not been so high, you would have dropped long ago. While you struggled to keep yourself standing, Daryl was simply shocked at the brute force of the woman in his grasp.

You paused for a moment, your grip on your knife tightening until your knuckles turned white. Just then you were able to look at him. Daryl saw the determination in your eyes. And though there was determination, there also seemed to be a pleading.

But with one forceful shove, you fell back, your leg buckling under you and your head hitting a cabinet.

A painful gasp left you, feeling the poorly done stitches rip your wound open again. Dropping your knife, your shaking hands grasped at the wound on your thigh as you pulled your back up against the cabinets. Your chest heaved with a mixture of adrenaline and pain. The skin on your thigh seared hot, every nerve around the wound throbbing.

Had you been paying attention, you would’ve noticed the man grip up his bow that was now aimed at you. It gave him time to examine you. You did not look dirty and unkept as other survivors had. Your hair was pulled back into a messy braid at the back of your head. Clothes black, all the way down to your boots. Holsters for weapons hung from your hips and thighs. And a pair of dog tags dangled around your neck.

“Daryl!” Maggie and Glenn came rambling through the door, weapons drawn. Daryl held a hand up to them, signaling that he was fine. The school was not one of great size, it did not surprise Daryl that they’d heard the tussle.

With the arrival of two new faces, you made an attempt to grab the blade you’d drop. But Daryl was quick and kicked the blade away leaving your hand to smack against the tile floor. Now left with no weaponry and not even a stable body to defend yourself, you’d figured you’d start begging to them or praying to God.

“I-I just want to leave. I’m-“ The sudden sharp tingle in your thigh cut your words short. You clenched your jaw tight and shut your eyes waiting for the muscle spasm to pass. “You’re not going anywhere on that leg.” Maggie holstered her gun and met you on the floor. There was a hesitation to her but in her heart she knew leaving you would be a death sentence. “My daddy can help you.”

“Maggie…”

“Glenn.” Maggie’s tone was stern, sending her husband a threatening glare.

While Maggie began to ask you questions, she motioned for the two men to scavenge the room. “What’s your name?”

“Y/n…”

Maggie pulled a handkerchief from her back pocket, scooting even closer to you. She motioned for you to lift your leg, “I’m Maggie. That’s Glenn and then Daryl.” She slipped the fabric beneath it, tying it in a tight knot around your wound. You winced at this, resisting the urge to pull her hands off of you.

“How many walkers have you killed?” Your eyebrows furrowed at the question. Had you known you were meant to keep track, you would’ve started long ago. “I don’t…know…a lot?” Your words were stuttered and shaken considering the pain you felt. You saw the man you had just fought glance at you from the corner of his eye. You began to debate if you should feel guilt for attacking him.

“That’s okay,” Maggie gave you a kind smile, “How many people have you killed?” She watched your face falter and your eyes shift to the ground then back to her. “Eight, I think.” Maggie gently nodded, her tone becoming slightly more serious “Why?”

“I’ve been alone for a long time.”

Maggie’s eyes met yours and for a moment, while you held each other's gaze, there was an understanding. An understanding that only another woman could begin to fathom.

Your arrival at the prison was nothing short of chaotic. The run starting as three and returning as four, though a possibility, was not expected.

A man with a beard pulled Daryl aside beginning to hound him with questions, Maggie supported you as you stood while Glenn ran off shouting the name Hershel. Much of everything after that was blurry. You could remember the man with the white beard mainly due to his kindness and gentle touch while he took care of your wounds. And you remembered the name Rick being tossed about in conversation.

"Let her rest." Hershel patted Glenn on the shoulder, muttering him a thank you for his help.

You lay flat on your back, your head and leg propped up with a pillow. You could not say it was the comfiest bed you'd ever laid in. You weren't even sure it was cozier than where you slept the night before. You fought the tiredness away, unsure of falling asleep in an unfamiliar community. But the medicine Hershel gave you made you drowsy. And soon every muscle felt heavy and your eyelids heavier.

You were unsure of how long you'd slept, only being startled awakened by the clank of metal. Rick noticed his mistake immediately pulling his hand away from the door of the cell, now standing with a guilty look on his face. "I'm sorry. I forget how loud these things are." You took a deep breath in an attempt to calm your beating heart. Rick entered the cell, opening the foldable chair Hershel had previously been sitting on.

"Was gonna drop these off for when ya woke up." Rick held up a glass of water and some type of protein bar. You adjusted yourself into a more proper sitting position, sending Rick a nod. As your mind awoke you became very conscious of your lack of pants, pulling the blanket farther up your waist. You were grateful that Ricks seemed to avert his eyes.

"I'm Rick.” His accent was noticeable.

“Y/n.” Just like your own.

“Maggie and Daryl told me a little bit about you but I wanted to speak with you directly.”

Rick held a certain type of authority to him. He spoke to you politely while still holding himself with dominance. A certain awkwardness became present when Rick spent a tad bit too long racking his brain for a question. “M’sorry about attacking, uhm… Daryl.” You decided to cut the awkwardness yourself.

To your surprise, Rick chuckled at your apology. “Please don’t apologize.” He looked at you, still with a smile on your face. “You were doing what you thought was right.” Rick shifted in the metal chair, resting his elbows atop his knees. "Did you serve?" Rick pointed to your neck, "Is that how you learned to fight?" You instinctively reached for the dog tags hanging from their chain.

"No no, they were my dads." You rubbed the smooth metal anxiously, feeling the indents of the letters and numbers imprinted. "I was an only child, only daughter at that, so my dad was rather protective of me... He had me in every boxing or self-defense class he could afford." A chuckle followed your words, reminiscing on the memory. Rick could understand your father's need to protect, having two children of his own.

"Rick." A gruff voice interrupted your conversation. The man named Daryl took up the doorway. When his eyes met yours, he seemed to falter under your gaze. He nudged his head in the opposite direction, asking for Rick to come with him. "Alright." Rick stood from the chair with an exasperated sigh, "Imma leave this right here for ya." Rick placed the water and protein bar on the chair in his place.

On his way out, he turned to you, "Maggie's gonna bring you up some clean clothes and help you get washed up. That alright?" His kind, yet tired, eyes sought an answer. You nodded and muttered a quiet thank you in return.

Your time in the prison since then could only be described as isolating. The injury on your leg kept you mostly restrained to the bed in your newly appointed cell. So, most of your time was spent with Maggie, Hershel, and occasionally Rick coming and going. Maggie cared for you in any way she could, nourishing you with food and assisting you in showering and changing. She had seemed to take a liking to you, as you did her, and you assumed you could now call her a friend.

However, there was another you don't think you could call much of anything.

Maggie helped you outside to the courtyard after you’d expressed that you were going mad looking at the same four walls. She’d left you with the book of Little Women, a blank leather journal, and a blue ink pen. “Holler if you need me, okay?” Maggie gently patted your shoulder before departing to meet Glenn only a few yards away.

Being outside after your imprisonment for the last 5 days, revived something in you. The heat from the sun's rays provided warmth on your skin but the cool breeze prevented you from overheating. You could not remember the last time you'd been outdoors without your head on a swivel or without the fear of being someone's dinner.

You could not focus on your book or your journal with the people who walked about the courtyard throwing glances your way. Everyone had heard about, the girl with the leg injury, with time. Random passers-by flashed you smiles, small waves, or even shy hello’s all of which you felt inclined to return.

“Y/n?” Though the voice was familiar, it did not stop the annoyance of having to put your pen down once again. You looked to the man, “Hi Rick.” Rick gleamed with a smile on his face “I’m glad to see you out here.”

Rick took it upon himself to take a seat at the table across from you making it obvious he desired to continue this conversation.

"Were you able to think about what we talked about?" Rick came by yesterday evening with a proposition for you. He invited you to join in with the group of people who went on runs for the community. Once you were fully healed, of course.

The only downside to this was who your main run partner was to be, Daryl. Rick saw something between you that you weren’t quite sure you saw yourself.

Daryl felt a wave of awkwardness standing behind Rick as he spoke to you. The same awkwardness he felt only a few days before standing in that doorway. Daryl knew of Rick's plans having been talked to about it only a few hours before.

He felt no need for a run partner. He was perfectly fine going about on his own but Rick thought the opposite.

What if something happens to you?

What if you get stuck somewhere?

We can’t afford to send search parties out for you.

All valid arguments from Rick. But Daryl had no desire to hear any of it. His stubbornness made him deaf.

Daryl could very clearly see you now. Whatever dirt and grime washed away revealed a remarkable woman. Your hair appeared soft and your dark eyes almost sparkled with the sun. He could see the definition of muscles on your biceps, highlighted by the short sleeves of your shirt. How you composed yourself screamed confidence as if you knew you were too pretty for a world so ugly.

And it infuriated him.

“Yeah, I uh...I wanna help any way I can.” Rick seemed pleased with your answer though the person behind him did not. You shifted in your seat, feeling Daryl’s eyes burn into you. In an attempt to redeem yourself, you spoke again, “If there’s anything I can do now, I want to.” Rick nodded at this, “We’ll find ya something.”

You could hear Daryl scoff from behind Rick. And though you tried to ignore it, you could not help the sour look you gave him in return. Daryl saw this as an invitation to continue his pronounced distaste.

“Don’t need someone who can’t walk holding me down.”

"Don't need someone who couldn't fight a girl holding me down."

Your response was quick-witted and more degrading to Daryl's masculinity than his insult to your injury. If you weren't mistaken, Daryl's eye twitched.

Rick stood from his seat to begin their exit, knowing the lengths of Daryl's temper. "You ain't nothing I couldn't handle." The chuckle you responded with and the glint of excitement in your eyes at the looming argument tested Daryl even more. "Sure, Daryl."

It was the first time you'd ever spoken his name to him. And he never stopped thinking of it for days to come. The way it rolled off your tongue and sounded with that southern twang. It left him restless at night and irritable during the day.

When your leg had healed and you'd grown tired of cleaning the library or serving daily meals, your first outing with Daryl was set. And it started just as rocky as it ended.

"Ya get bit, I ain't gonna hesitate to put a bullet in yer head."

"Why wait? I'm standing right here."

You remained quiet after that, not wanting to push the tension even more. But even the simplest of questions left Daryl huffing and puffing. It started with you asking how his morning was going. And it ended with you asking why he was such a prick.

It was a silent ride home.

You'd like to think you'd tried to find his good side in those beginning days but you soon began to question if such a thing even existed. Any time you were kind to him, he retaliated with anger. It brought out a certain type of frustration in you that you didn’t know was possible.

Within your time at the prison, you'd made yourself an esteemed part of the community. You used your [now useless] degree in agriculture to help build the gardens and begin the planting of any seeds you could find. Rick took a heavy trust in you and appointed you a seat on the prison council. And you'd shown your skills in scavenging, even when you had Daryl breathing down your neck.

It was difficult to pinpoint exactly when this whole charade started. Perhaps it had started in the nurse's office, in the courtyard, or on your first run together. But it did not matter where it began because there was one thing for sure, there seemed to be no end.

You both had a hold over another, in a way no one else did.

Daryl hated your confidence because he lacked his own. He hated that you were quick to go toe to toe with him. Because many others were too scared. He despised that you were so smart, a college graduate. And he especially hated when you spoke so highly of your father. Because he didn’t have a father to talk about at all.

But there was always a ting of something in all of his hate. Jealousy.

You hated his ego. You hated the fact that he contradicted everything you said. You hated when he called you names. Princess, he’d say or, miss college graduate. You hated that he never even tried to get to know you; to know that you weren’t this pretentious brat he painted you to be. Despite being with each other on a regular basis, there was a lacking of personal connection.

It was a day familiar to any other. Your hot morning tea whirled about in your mug, your feet gliding gently around the grounds of the growing garden. After all your laborious hours in the Georgia heat, it was gratifying to see the various plants take bloom. Knowing there'd soon be a garden big enough to feed the community gave you satisfaction and perhaps a sliver of peace.

"You comin' or what?"

And there goes another blissful morning pissed down the drain.

Your long braid fell from your shoulder to your back when you looked at the disgruntled man. "We might need to find you a new mattress." You made your way to him, shoving your mug into his chest, "You can't ever seem to find a good side to wake up on." He scoffed, involuntarily taking your mug. The two of you, along with Michonne and Glenn, were set out on yet another run. Not one of great importance nor would it take that long of time but nonetheless it was still time spent around him.

Daryl followed behind you as you continued your way back to the prison, mug still in hand. "Michonne and Glenn are waitin' while yer staring at some fuckin' bushes." It was your turn to scoff, "They're not bushes. It's food. And a lot of fucking work."

Oh, Daryl knew how much work it had taken from you.

In the weeks he'd spent out in the gardens, his eyes worked more than his hands. He couldn't not look. You wore a tank top every day with the same black gardening gloves and dog tags dangling from your neck. The muscles in your biceps were always highlighted from the hours of digging. The blistering sun always had you drenched in sweat leaving your skin constantly glossy. Words couldn't describe the way he felt when it was dripping down your neck and into the crevice of your breast.

He was outraged for the entire three weeks.

"Whatever."

The mug in his hand became very apparent to him. "When the hell ya give me this?" He now strode beside you, approaching the car at the gates. You smiled to yourself, "A while ago."

Daryl would have preferred to ride his bike to avoid being trapped in such a confined space with you. But it was, “A waste of gas” as Rick would say.

You weren’t exactly sure what Daryl had done. But he had particularly did you in today. So greatly that you almost walked home. Glenn had to beg you to come back. Perhaps it was the way he glared at you that threw you over the edge. So cold and hostile. Or the way he stepped all over your feet, cutting you off mid-sentence, always thinking that he was right. You were simply always wrong.

This particular run would change the trajectory of your relationship forever. 

You and Daryl had split in the strip mall, deciding to cover more ground separately. The strip was usually overrun with a hoard of walkers but as of late, they seemed to be diminishing one at a time. It had become clear enough to begin digging at the stores it held. Some random clothing stores, liquor shops, a CVS pharmacy, and dead restaurants.

You were rummaging about the pharmacy, most of it already picked through. 

Examining the bottle of prenatal vitamins in your hand for Maggie, you heard footsteps. Thinking it was Daryl you spoke. "It's not like these expiration dates even matter anymore." Blind to your danger, you turned to face him.

Before you were given time to react to the two strange men, you were grabbed by the back of your neck, pulling at the nape of your hair, a blade held to the side of your throat. The bottle dropped from your hand, clattering to the floor. You grasped the man's arm attempting to keep the blade from your skin but you'd failed; cuts appeared on the delicate skin.

"Stay." The other man reached for your gun belt, unholstering your weapon and keeping it for himself. You kept your calm but your eyes widened with fear. "Scream and you'll die." The short man with the knife moved it away from your throat, his hand freeing your neck. The other man, who had taken your gun, now had it pointed at you.

It was loaded. You knew because you were the one who'd loaded it that very morning.

"Ya can't just come into the place we've worked so hard to clean up and start taking things...we need some form of payment."

"I have my bag." You offered hoping they would merely steal your things and go. Slowly, not taking your eyes off them, you moved your pack off your back. "There's food and ammo and other supplies." Your bag was snatched from your hands with haste. "Thank you." It wasn't genuine, just taunting.

"But that's not what we want." Their eyes looked at you more hungry than any walker. Once you realize what they meant, tears begin to blur your vision. You could feel them begin to come closer to you. Feeling helpless and too stunned to cry out for Daryl, you weren't sure if you should start fighting or begging.

Daryl heard your continuous screeches from down the way, dropping his bag of clothing. "Y/n!" His feet carried him to you swiftly. You cried his name shoving one man off of you from your pinned spot against the shelves. It was foolish of Daryl to begin shooting so wildly.

Luckily you moved to the floor in avoidance of the bullets, covering your head and blocking your ears.

You kept yourself crouched on the ground, deaf to what was happening around you. Until a hand grabbed your bicep and hoisted you from the ground, "Come on, we gotta go." For once you were relieved to see Daryl.

But you wouldn't be for long.

"We shouldn't have split up!" Daryl shouted. He was walking too fast for you to keep up, as he did at times. You trailed behind him stumbling your way over the branches and leaves in an attempt to make it back to the road with his bike. "You always got stupid fuckin' ideas!" Daryl's adrenaline was still pumping, too ignorant to think of you. He muttered to himself, “Course there was people, walkers don’t just clear out by themselves.”

He marched onto the blacktop.

"Ya talk big game just to not do nothing to help yourself." Daryl was angrily throwing the green brush off his bike, removing it from its hidden spot in the treeline. "Always talkin' 'bout yer daddy and what he did for ya." Daryl said this more to himself but it didn’t fail to reach your ears.

"Well, where was he now yuh?" Daryl turned around to face you, his chest heaving. Only to catch you in the midst of buttoning your pants. Guilt dreaded him.

You didn't care to hear his insults. And you had no desire to get on that bike and be so close to him right now. 

"I.." Words couldn't find themselves in your mouth. All you could focus on was the way everything felt frozen yet moving at an intense speed at the same time. Daryl saw the way you struggled with yourself.  

There was a twisting pain within your chest as your panic only grew. "Y/n." Daryl put his frustrations aside, the situation becoming clear to him now. He swallowed down his pride and reached a hand out to you. Before his fingertips could even graise the fabric of your shirt, you took a step back. "No." You spoke gently, looking out to the woods instead of to Daryl; all you could fathom now was the desire to escape. 

"Y/n," Daryl repeated more soft, "We gotta go home." 

"I don't want to." You turned back to him abruptly. He could see the tears irritating your eyes. Where your hands lay across your chest, you could feel your rapid heart. 

"Why not?" Daryl couldn't understand why you wouldn't want to go home. It was safe, it was comfortable. Two things you desperately need right now.

"I can't, I…I can't get on the bike right now." Your frustration with yourself was growing. 

Why couldn't you just get on the bike? 

Why couldn't you breathe? 

Why didn't you listen to Daryl and not split up? 

Why was Daryl being so kind to you suddenly? Was it pity? You hated pity.

"Alright." Daryl watched the tears begin to roll down your cheeks. "We can walk, it's alright." There was no way of making it back to the prison on foot before sundown. Daryl knew this. But it was a sacrifice he was willing to make for you.

Daryl gripped the handles on his bike, walking the heavy machine down the road with you in tow. You were seemingly able to calm yourself down. The only thing remaining now was shame. You were embarrassed that Daryl had seen you so vulnerable. And you were even more embarrassed that he had to save you.

All the countless years felt wasted. All that time spent in the ring or on some thin gym mats. All those tireless nights where your father wouldn’t allow you to rest until you got one more. It was a phrase all too familiar.

You knew Daryl was annoyed having to walk, his huffs and buffs gave it away. The sun was beginning to set. "Daryl we can drive." You tried to persuade for the third time. "S'fine." 

"Daryl, it's getting dark." 

"S'fine!" He shouted back frustrated with the disappearing sun. You stopped in your tracks. "I know somewhere we can sleep."

You could hear the soft sounds of the water flowing down the river bed. The moon allowed a glow onto the water, gleaming with the current. Crickets and cicadas chirped in the night air like music to your ears. Despite the struggles of being in the wilderness alone, nights like this made you miss it. 

"What ya doin' over there?" Daryl asked sitting a few feet behind you at the fire. "Nothing."

You pushed yourself from the ground, making your way back to him. Daryl bitterly smoked his cigarette. You didn't need to ask to know why he was so irritated, you could already imagine. Perhaps catching the fish for dinner was what did it. Or the hundreds of pounds of metal he walked for miles. Or maybe he actually was mad about having to save you. Or the simple fact that he was stuck out here with you. 

You couldn't pick one.

No words were spoken, just the sounds of the wilderness and the crackling of the fire. It allowed you to think.

You began to wonder if you'd ever actually hated him. Because how could you hate someone you'd grown such an attachment to? How could you hate the person you screamed out for in your time of need? There were countless days where he'd anger you so much you thought you might actually strangle him. But somehow you always went right back. You always met him at the gates or stumbled upon him at breakfast. 

Staring off into the fire you began to accept that you all along had been trying [and presumably failing] to win him over. "You okay?" Your eyes looked from the fire to him. His cigarette no longer present, "M'fine." You replied. 

Daryl would be lying if he said he wasn't worried about you. Just because he didn't care for you at times, didn't mean he doesn't care about you. "It happened a couple times out on the road. I could handle it then...I just..." You shifted where you sat, "Got surprised today was all." To hear this wasn't the first time but a time of many, gutted Daryl. 

You had become more afraid of encountering a man than a walker. 

Daryl was never angry with you. He was more angry with himself, unable to protect you from finding yourself in such a situation.

"Wasn't yer fault. M'sorry." Shockingly, Daryl's guilt overshined his ego.

You let out a deep sigh looking back out towards the water. You knew his apology was sincere but you couldn't find the courage to acknowledge it. "I was just thinking about how I miss it out here sometimes. The sounds, the views, the peace."

Your confidence and sharp tongue did not seem present at this moment. Looking back to him, he seemed completely entranced by this newfound gentle side of you. "But that's only one percent of it, isn't it?" Daryl never took his eyes off yours, the fire casting an orange glow within them. "Yeah."

The other ninety - nine percent was the actual survival. All the bloody fights. The permanent anxiety. The sleepless nights due to fear. The painful emptiness of your stomach. The constant blisters on your ankles [that never healed] from running or walking. And the unbearable hopelessness. 

"Were ya always alone?" Daryl had always been curious. You shook your head, "No." He nodded his head and looked away, leaving it at that. He had no desire to make your night even more miserable by talking about the ones you'd lost.

"It was just me and my brother for awhile."

"Meryl?" 

Daryl furrowed his eyebrows knowing he'd never mentioned him before. 

"Maggie's talked about him briefly." 

"All nice things?" Daryl asked sarcastically. 

"Not really." Your attempt to stifle your laugh was a failure, the smile lingering. But this did not anger Daryl the way you thought it would. Instead, he had his own small smile, scoffing and shaking his head. "He wasn't the best at times...but he was my brother ya know?"

You nodded muttering a, yeah. 

Daryl flicked the butt of his cigarette into the dying fire. Knowing this was the first and potentially last time you'd ever speak to another so tenderly again, you continued. 

"I was an only child. My mom died in childbirth when I was eight…so I never got siblings." 

"M'sorry."

"Don't." You didn't say it to be cruel. You grew up hearing sympathy after sympathy, you did not need anymore. "I was never alone though. I had my Dad. And my aunt and uncles helped take care of me so I was surrounded by my cousins all the time...I guess I did have siblings in a way." A nauseating wave of nostalgia rose in your throat, silencing you for a mere second. 

"My mom died when I was young too. 'Cept my Dad was just some drunk asshole, didn't care 'bout nobody but himself." Daryl couldn't deny his slight envy towards you. You grew up with a father who cared for you and your safety. It made him wonder how you'd ended up alone in the end.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't need yer apologies Y/n."

"I know."

The fire was no more. Only red hot embers burning on the rocky gravel. And it made you think that perhaps it was symbolic that the fire was slowly diminishing as your conversation grew more gentle. 

A few minutes of silence had passed before either of you spoke again. "Look at us, talking to each other, treating each other like human beings for once." You joked with a laugh in an effort to replace the depressing mood. 

You actually heard Daryl chuckle even though he lowered his head in an attempt to hide it. His eyes glanced at you, your own cheeky smile dimpling your cheeks. If this is what having a personal connection with Daryl was, it was dangerous.

Why did it take so long? 

Was what you wanted to scream at him.

I could've loved you if you'd just given me a chance. 

"Maybe we have more in common than we ever allowed." 

Daryl broke eye contact with you, staring down at the glowing embers, chewing on his bottom lip. And he did the only thing he ever learned how to do when he felt something. "Night Y/n." 

You didn't know why you expected anything different. 

"Goodnight Daryl." 

Daryl took his vest off, rolling it up and using it as a makeshift pillow. He turned away from you, his back tauntling in your face. 

You stayed up a little while after, too overwhelmed by thoughts to rest. Unbeknownst to you, Daryl could not rest either. In fact, he did not sleep that entire night, only allowing himself ten-minute naps here and there. The only sense of relaxation he felt was when he'd check over his shoulder and see you in blissful sleep. As if nothing and no one had ever touched you. 

When Rick asked what'd happened, Daryl lied. Saying you'd been outrun by a hoard and had to crash somewhere safe for the night. The days continued on, and what happened that day was not spoken of again. But there had come an understanding that Daryl and you were indeed, more in-common than ever allowed.

Patrick approached Daryl and you at breakfast as you mapped the run for the next morning. "H-hi!" Patrick greeted sheepishly, giving a small wave to the table. Maggie and Glenn greeted him first. Then you, pulling your attention away from the map on the table to him; give a polite smile and nod. "Hey Patrick, everything okay?" Rick asked from where he sat beside Daryl. "Yeah..." Patrick was nervous on his feet, awkwardly pushing his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. "I wanted to ask Daryl and Y/n if I could join them out there?" 

There was suddenly a stiffness in the air. Glances were exchanged between the lot of you. "Patrick I-" Rick scratched his beard awkwardly, finding a response for the boy.  Patricks's confidence plummeted. He had spent hours building up the courage to ask, only to be met with stiff glances. 

"How old are you Patrick?" It was an odd question for you to ask but it did not come without reason. "Uhmm fifteen." 

You rose from your seat making your way over to him as gently as your feet would allow. Come, you spoke gently reaching an arm out to him. 

Patrick began to walk with you. 

"I was younger than you when my father began to enroll me in fighting classes."

Pausing your words, you continued your stroll until you stopped just before hitting the grass. "He told me that you could never be too young to know how to protect yourself...What does that mean to a little girl who only wanted to play with her Barbies?"

Patrick listened to you intentively, entranced by the way you spoke.

Looking out to the green gardens, you seemed lost in thought for a second.  "I don't think your question is outrageous. I just don't think you're prepared." Patrick seemed to understand this answer more, nodding his head.

You knew the day would come when the prison folk grew tired of looking at the same walls and more curious about the world beyond. Especially the children. You'd seen the group of kids over by the fences, close enough to look at the walkers but far enough away for safety. It was often that they were scolded by the adults. 

"I know I’m not a fighter. I’m not like you or Daryl or even Carl. But I just wanna…” Patrick paused, “be brave for once.”

You couldn't help but smile at the innocence of the boy. 

"You can't go out there knowing nothing Patrick." He had finally begun to accept defeat but the long face and disappointed eyes tugged at your sympathy. 

"I can teach you. Just as my father taught me." Patrick's eyes lit up with hope. "Th-thank you Y/n." He gleamed with excitement, reaching a hand out to shake yours. You were truly at a loss of words with no choice but to shake it in return. 

You'd spent day after day out in the field with Patrick. You taught him how to block blows, how to hold and use daggers, and much more. He was skittish and shaky most days but he was trying. In place of your days with Patrick, you were skipping your usual days with Daryl. You truly hadn't thought he'd mind much. If anything, you assumed he'd be happy to finally have a break from you.

"I feel like this wouldn't hurt that bad." Patrick commented. Carl was punching the book Patrick held, having begun to invite himself to the practices. Thick index books were the closest thing you'd find to a punching bag. You chuckled, "It hurts more than you'd expect."

Daryl approached the three of you. You could hear his footsteps. They were gentler than normal as if he wished to not disturb. "It hurts more if you have rings on." Patrick looked at you curiously, "Did you used to wear rings Y/n?" You nodded happily. "All the time.”

You turned to finally face Daryl. "Hey." You greeted, taking the last few steps to meet him. "Hi." Daryl looked about, chewing on his bottom lip. "You ain't been showing up for runs." It almost, almost, sounded as if this upset him. "I've been here," you motioned to the young boys, "You know that." 

Daryl nodded.

Of course he knew. He saw you every day, always wanting to come over and join but never allowing himself to. 

"You really serious 'bout all this?" Daryl nudged his head to Patrick and Carl. You let out a deep sigh. You asked yourself the same question. Was this serious? Did you really plan on taking a kid outside the gates? There was a chance this was all for nothing at all. But what you did know was that it kept your mind at peace and your days busy.

"I don't know. I thought we could at least take him down to the river. It's nice down there, it's not far, would get him outta here for a few hours." 

The river.

"Alright."

"Alright."

You sat alone at dinner that night, needing quiet time after hanging out with teenage boys for the majority of your day. You poked about your rice and veggies, still working on the copy of Little Women. "Hey." Daryl greeted. The day was growing late, the sun beginning to disappear from beneath the trees; he'd presumably just gotten back.

"Hi." You looked from your page, secretly happy he was giving you an excuse to put it down. Daryl's eyes looked anywhere but your own. "I-uh...got something for ya." Daryl dug into his front pocket, grabbing the handful of metal. He placed the rings on the table, making their own clattering noise together as they fell.

You seemed bewildered at this. "What...uh." Daryl chewed nervously on his thumb. He'd searched through this town and the next to find them for you; which could mean nothing at all. “You didn't have to."

"S'fine." You nodded, the smile finally creeping it’s way to your features. "Thank you, Daryl." You were flattered. Flattered to think that for once, he'd actually listened to you. "Do you wanna go get dinner and come sit?" You offered.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

A certain closeness was growing. The arguments slowly became banter. And the war of dominance diminished. You began to work together as partners, mapping runs and brainstorming improvements for the prison. Instead of using your skills against each other, you’d began to find the perfect balance between.

Daryl joined you most days with Patrick. He found that he had no desire to go beyond the gates unless you were in tow.

There were moments when sheer frustration retook hold of you. But never did it reach the lengths as before. It came with reason, with a pleading, instead of merely arguing of who was right and who was wrong.

You turned the rings on your fingers about as you walked to the dining area outside. Daryl was a ways away, smoking his morning cigarette. “Morning.” You greeted, crossing your arms and taking your spot beside him. “Morning.”

The end of summer was near, mornings were chillier than usual but days still hot from the sun. There was a curtain of peace over this particular morning. The smell of Daryl’s cigarette filled your nose along with the morning dew. His presence comforted you. “I think it was around this time last year when you guys picked me up.”

Daryl blew the smoke from his lips, “Yeah, biggest mistake ever.” He joked. This earned a laugh from you. Daryl watched the joy on your face; it scrunched your eyes and accentuated the apples of your cheeks. “Yeah, I bet.”

He couldn’t take his eyes from you and a heaviness weighed within his chest. Because he knew, just as you did, that it was not only friendship lingering. It was more.

“I think I’m gonna go out, make sure the path to the river is clear.” Daryl knew what this insinuated. “We’re taking him out today?” Daryl had begun to hope that all of your time with Patrick was nothing, that it was merely something to fill up the days. “It feels like a peaceful day…” You could hear the uncertainty in his voice. “Besides, Patrick’s not been feeling good, I doubt he’ll even want to go. It’s the effort that means something to him.”

Hmm, Daryl hummed. You nudged your elbow into him, “Keep an eye on him for me, okay?” Daryl hummed in response again. “D…” You nudged him again as if needing a more reassuring answer for your verbal contract. The nickname perked his ears and heated his cheeks. Looking to you, he nodded.

You gave him a thankful smile. “Be safe!” Daryl shouted to you as you began on your way.

Arriving back to the prison you could feel within your gut that something was wrong. The sympathetic eyes that Michonne greeted you with solidified this.

Daryl recognized your footsteps entering the cell block.

“What's happened?" Daryl rushed to stand in front of you, blocking your path. It was eerily silent. “Come on.” Daryl placed his hands on your shoulders trying to turn you away. You shoved his hands from you, slipping past him.

"Y/n.” Daryl could not stop you from continuing on. Your expression was stuck in a state of confusion and shock as your feet guided about the chaotic cell block. It smelled of metallic blood and bitterly sour. Almost as though you'd stuck your nose in a gaping infected wound. When you'd turned your head to glance into a cell, you saw him.

Patrick lay still on the ground, an arrow lodged in his skull. An airy gasp left you, clutching your hands to your chest. It was as if you couldn't take your eyes away. Your eyes still not yet communicating to your brain what you were looking at. But when it did, the only thing you could seem to focus on was the arrow. An arrow.

Daryl watched the realization settle on your features when you turned to him. For once, Daryl felt a sense of fear. And it only worsened when you began towards him. 

It was as quick as a breath. You unsheathed the dagger on your hip and aimed it at him. 

"Y/n no!" 

Daryl caught your wrists, the blade mere inches from his right eye. Though he stopped the blade, your brute force did not stop him from being shoved into the closest wall.  

"I told you to look out for him!" You yelled through your glassy eyes.

He had no words for you, pure guilt blocking any defense or insult.

"I had to." You scoffed at this, "I can't trust you to do anything." 

"Y/n it's not his fault. It was an accident." Rick reasoned with you.

With his back pressed against the wall, he had fully submitted himself to your wrath. His guilt would let you kill him now if you'd like. His hands around your wrist did not hurt nor squeeze to withhold your strength, they began to merely rest there.

Your rapid breathing began to slow to deep inhales and exhales, ones that moved your entire chest. Your eyes remained steady on his, the world drowning out around you. 

While his eyes showed remorse, yours burned with anger; eyebrows furrowed, hot tears slipping down your cheeks.

With one forceful shove, you ripped your arms from Daryl's grasp, his back bumping the cement wall. The dagger made a clattering noise to the floor, having been lost from your grasp in the process. You stood there for a moment looking to Daryl as if waiting for something.

"M'sorry."

His apology only seemed to anger you, your face once again turning hateful. You took a few steps back before making your exit.  

When time came to take care of the ones lost, you helped dig their graves; in defiance of everyone telling you not to. Your hands covered in splinters from the blistering wood of the shovel’s handle. The once thriving and growing prison become melancholy, a heavy cloud of sorrow always above.

You and Daryl had not spoken for days. You'd ditched any planned runs that had been scheduled. But without fail, Daryl waited every morning for you, on the off chance you'd join him again. And when you never did, he kept an eye on you from afar. 

You had become quiet and distant. He seemed to only find you chatting with Maggie or Glenn and on the off chance, Rick. You were on fence duty every day presumably taking out every bit of anger on those poor dead bastards.

You'd been out there day after day, nothing but water in your system, running off of pure spite and grief. You'd be out there till your adrenaline wore off and your body gave up on itself from exhaustion. If Daryl wasn't mistaken he had spotted you crying on some days; but that bloody pipe never left your hands.

You had begun to wake up earlier than Daryl, always managing to slip away from him just in time. You ignored him at every meal and walked by him as if he was a ghost. 

Daryl couldn't deny the itch of missing you. He longed for you to look at him again, to smile at him and call him names. He began to even miss when you yelled at him, as cruel and loud as you could be. 

Daryl couldn't continue on like this. You were torturing him.

He had awoken particularly early this day, ensuring he was in the kitchen long before you; knowing you never skipped your morning tea.

Exhaustion was all you could feel. Your body raged against your decisions every day. Your arms were sore, hands red and raw from gripping the damn pipe so hard. But you could not allow yourself to be around him. You couldn't stand to be trapped in those cells, indulged with pity.  

Wrapping the strap of the fingerless gloves around your wrist, you wandered into the kitchen. Glancing up, you saw him, stopping your steps. The kitchen was dark on this early morning, the sun not yet fully risen. 

Every thought Daryl had vanished from his mind. Every speech he'd rehearsed or apology left him in an instant. He hadn't known seeing you face to face, alone, would leave him so breathless. Daryl could see your exhaustion even in the dim light. Your usually neat braid had been done in haste, it was sloppy and hairs fell messily into your face. The constant emotional distress dragged on your features.  

"I had to see ya."

You crossed your arms over your chest, closing yourself off from him. "So you just waited for me here." Your tone was venom to him. Daryl swallowed sharply, second-guessing his actions. "Ya get yer tea every mornin'." It would be flattering to think he'd memorized your everyday routine if it was any other time. But you couldn't find that now. 

"Was gonna go out..."

He wasn't. Daryl would only go if you were in tow.

You scoffed at him. Had he truly gone through all this effort just to ask you to join him on a sleazy run? 

Your attitude hurt Daryl more than he'd like to admit. "Just wanted to see if ya wanted to come with me?"

You knew why he actually was here. Scratching the skin on your arm nervously, you said, "No Daryl." 

“Why the hell not?” Your mouth dropped agape. Astonished at his mere audacity. “Why not?” You repeated back. Daryl looked at you blankly. Should he apologize? Or should he begin his stubbornness rant about all the ways it wasn't his fault? You shook your head, "You're pathetic."

The fire was lit once again.

You'd insulted his ego and his efforts to meet you here. But most of all, you'd insulted any feelings he'd developed for you.

Daryl's face switched from hurt to a hateful glare in a second. You didn’t care to continue on with him, turning and disappearing into the hallway. Daryl’s anger took hold of him as he rushed after you. “M’pathetic?” He followed after you, stomping like a child.

You ignored him, continuing on, letting the door slam in his face when you exited outside. Daryl following suit in your path did not falter. Carol and Rick turned their attention to the commotion.

Daryl and you spewed insults at each other. You'd reached down in yourself, past the grief and guilt, and pulled any degrading thing you could manage to say to him. And he did the same. No words you said could possibly cut him as deeply as his actions cut you.

"I shoulda left ya out there!" 

"Yeah I wish you fucking would've..." You took a step closer to him. "But you couldn't because you fucking needed me." 

"I don't need you." 

"You fucking need me." You repeated. 

"Yeah? Then you need me!"

"I don't fucking need you! I never needed you."

Daryl lowered his tone, narrowing his eyes. "Ya didn't need me out there, hm?" He watched your furrowed eyebrows falter. Daryl knew he was crossing a line but couldn't find it in his heart to stop. "Where was yer daddy that day, yuh?"

Your glassy eyes looked up at him attempting to form your own degrading insult. "What? Say it, come on say it Y/n." He egged you on.

You only think about yourself, just like your father.

But you refrained, swallowing your words along with your tears. "Fuck you." Daryl watched you walk away, wiping at your face. "Fuck you!" Regret dreaded him. He could have run after you then, apologies spewing from his mouth but his stubbornness kept him still.

The prison fell that same day.

Amid chaos and destruction, Daryl could only find himself to look for you. And when he finally accepted defeat, he could only pray that you'd made it out.

You had fled on your own. Fighting your way through to return to the comfort of the wilderness. After a few strenuous days on your own again, you'd found Carol and Tyreese; joining them with the girls. The blisters on your feet had returned as did the heaviness deep in your chest.

You thought about him more than you'd like to admit. And Carol did her part in reminding you of him on the daily. You'd begun to dwell on how you'd treated him in those final days.

"I regret it deeply now." You'd say to Carol.

"I'm sure he feels the same." She'd respond.

A longing for your life to return as it was among those prison walls struck you down every hour of every day. The wish to go back to that morning and accept his offer. To take his hand and go beyond the walls. Maybe one more day together would’ve fixed everything. And you wouldn’t be left with the guilt of leaving things off on a bad note; never to see him again.

The smoke rose above the tree line, only making you more anxious. With Tyreese and Judith safely at the cabin, you kept guard at the road. Keeping an eye for anyone making an escape.

Kill them if they weren’t one of us. Carol instructed.

But the sound of gunfire made you unsure of anyone’s survival. Fuck, you muttered to yourself out of frustration. You glanced constantly down the road and amongst the trees, hoping for a familiar face.

You turned your last surviving ring anxiously about your finger. A rustle in the woods grabbed your attention. You gripped your gun closely in your hands, stepping towards the tree line. When it was deemed clear, you continued on, your boots crunching on the leaves.

Your ears perked at a sudden crunch of a twig. Whipping your body around, you pointed your gun.

Daryl aimed his bow to you, the tip of your weapons mere inches from the other. Your breath caught in your throat. His eyes were tired, his face bruised. But you couldn't say you looked any better.

Both your fingers lingered over your triggers, though neither of you would shoot. Daryl lowered his bow. Looking at you with teary eyes. You lowered your own weapon, looking to him with the same unsure gaze. There seemed to be a mutual understanding that neither of you had the energy to fight. "Y/n?" Maggie snapped you from your daze. “Maggie?” You rushed to embrace her, discarding Daryl.

The weeks spent on the road proved to be difficult. Everyone grew more hopeless by the day and this hopelessness only grew when it became loss after loss. There was truly no time to heal from one loss before having to mourn another. First Bob, then Tyreese, and then Beth. You’d glued yourself to Maggie after Beth just as she did for you after Patrick.

Daryl mourned Beth in private. You wanted to be there for him, to provide him a shoulder to cry on. But he’d shut you out, just as you’d done to him. And besides, you never even tried, too focused on Maggie to consider it more than a thought.

You and Daryl had become strangers once again. There was no room for forgiveness, no time to spew apologies to each other, and no space to coddle each other through the pain.

Alexandria came to the suffering group, shining a new light of hope and a more secure future.

But this meant you could not hide from him anymore nor him you. The known could no longer be left unspoken.

You’d slipped away from the main house to the house next door that belonged to the group but was yet to be used. Daryl was first to notice your absence, asking where you’d gone so late. When he was told, the urge to follow after arose.

The front door was left unlocked, allowing Daryl entry. “Y/n?” The house was dimly lit, an amber glow looming from across the room. Daryl saw your figure sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace. A liquor bottle sat atop the coffee table reading, Honey Whiskey, along with an empty glass seemingly for him. The other was in your hand, resting on your thigh. He couldn't help but think how perfectly you the liquor was; bitter yet soothing and sweet.

Daryl didn't know what told him to sit beside you but he did not resist the urge.

Nothing was said, the both of you staring off into the gas-lit flames. Your eyes studied the fake logs that were engulfed by flames, comparing it to how real wood burns. Daryl craved for you to speak to him. He didn't care if it was hurtful. Any words, cruel or no, were better than this silence. "Y/n..."

"I forgive you." Daryl went still. You hadn't given him time to breathe.

"What?"

Just then you turned, your freshly cleaned hair falling over your shoulder. The fire cast a glow on your features; highlighting the bridge of your nose and emoting a sparkle within your eyes.

“I said I forgive you.” It was the gentlest tone you’d ever spoken to him in.

“I don’t think I had reason to be angry in the first place. I was just trying to blame someone that wasn’t myself.” You reached forward, popping the cap from the bottle and pouring Daryl a glass. You handed it to him, along with a slight smile. It tugged at his heart.

“M’sorry…bout what I said that day. 'Bout your Dad...Wasn’t right.” Daryl swirled the liquor about his glass, wondering where you’d found it. You took a deep breath before speaking on, “My daddy disowned me.”

The dog tags around your neck suddenly felt as though they weighed fifty pounds. It was a burden you carried around your neck every day, hoping the weight would be lifted lighter if you just spoke highly. "Why?" Daryl couldn't help but ask. You hesitated, your mouth gaping but no words following. "Because I loved a woman." You flashed Daryl an insecure smile, unsure of how he'd react. "I lost her about a month before you guys picked me up. That's why I was alone."

Daryl felt a whirlwind of emotions hit him at once.

How many times had he thrown your father in your face like some jealous brat?

“I think I resented ya a lot. Thinking ya had a father that rolled out the red carpet for you." Daryl had found his own courage in a now empty cup. You took note of this, pouring more for him. "I know, D."

"M'sorry."

"I know that too."

After that, a soft silence fills the room. The two of you sit peacefully, content with the weight slowly lifting from the shoulders of your friendship. But there was another topic to relive before you could truly sweep up all of the choked-off fragments and furnish them with conclusions.

“Patrick uh…”

“Ya don’t gotta talk about that Y/n.”

“No, I need to.”

The liquor wasn’t persuading you to talk nor to act a certain way, you’d barely drank any.

A deep sigh left you and you rested your back against the couch. “Patrick talked about his parents a lot. He said that his mom wanted him to be brave…That’s why he wanted to go out, he said that he felt like a coward. He’d always been safe in Woodbury then the prison.” Your words were quick and shaken.

Daryl listened attentively, taking sips of the honey whiskey in hopes it would calm his mind. “He thought that if he went out, even once, he would be brave… like us.” You motioned to you and Daryl. A smile rose on your face. “He also just really wanted to impress you, he was so excited when you started joining us in the mornings.” You took a sip from your own cup finding strength in the liquid.

“I know you always thought it was silly but…Patrick reminded me a lot of my cousin. He was my best friend until my aunt moved to a different state. I promised to keep in touch but I started college, got distracted, and only saw him on holidays.”

Your words trailed as if unsure of what was to be said.

“Until he jumped off a fucking overpass.” You could feel Daryl’s sympathetic eyes looking at you. “In his note, he said he knew he was a coward but he couldn’t be here anymore.” Your lip began to quiver but you quickly covered it with a swig of liquor. Daryl was left to think while you choked your tears down.

"They were brave." Daryl said in hopes it would relieve some of your guilt.

You placed your glass on the table beside the couch. "And dead they are." The tears could no longer be drowned in whiskey. You covered your face with your hands. Your body trembled violently, sobs racking your chest. Daryl put down his own glass. “C’mere…c’mere please.”

Daryl scooted closer to you, grasping for you to meet him halfway. You met him gladly.

“You’ve never hugged me before." You commented with sadness, your words mumbling against the fabric of his shirt. "I know. M’sorry.” He could hold you all night if need be. You gripped your arms around him tighter, resting your head on his shoulder. A deep sigh of relief left both of you, melting into the other's embrace.

He smelled of pine from the soap he'd used to wash. But the familiar scent of motor oil and cigarette smoke could never be washed from his skin. At first, it annoyed you. You'd complain that the oil gave you headaches and scold him about his unhealthy habit. But now, no four walls of any house could provide you the safety and comfort of Daryl's broad figure.

You pulled away from him but your hands did not leave him. They dragged down from his back to rest comfortably in his own. Your soft skin caressed his calloused hands. Your forehead rested against his. He did not remove himself from you but merely looked down, avoiding your gaze. "Ya been drinking a lot Y/n, ain't in the right mindset right now." You shook your head, "No Daryl...I love you."

Your nose bumped his own as you scooped your head down, capturing his lips in yours. You taste of the bitterly sweet liquor, your lips still slightly damp from the tears that fell only moments ago. He resists before giving in to his longest desires. It made his nerves feel fuzzy.

The kiss turned from gentle to desirable in time, lips moving in sync together. His hands moved to either side of your face, ensuring to keep you close. You began to lay back, hoping Daryl would follow. He was quick too, ensuring his body weight did not crush you.

Needing a moment to breathe, you parted from him. Your back relaxed against the plush couch all your tense muscles turning to putty beneath him. Daryl's head fell to your chest. He felt your own heartbeat, just as quick as his own. "Love ya too."

Daryl's hands freely wondered you. He gripped your thighs, feeling the jagged scar on your thigh through the thin pajama pants; remembering the day you met. "I fell down a hill." Daryl stopped his lingering hands, "What?" There was a ting of a smile on your face. His eyes sparkled with admiration. "I was fighting a walker and I fell downhill. I think I got stabbed by a tree branch or my own knife, I never knew." You admitted shamefully. Daryl dropped his head to your chest again, chuckling.

His laughter sent vibrations through you, triggering a laugh of your own. You bring your hand to the back of his head, stroking his messy brown hair. “Why don’t you stay here with me tonight?” Daryl lifted his head, the fire dimly lighting the right side of his face. He nodded.

"I'd like that."