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wannabespacesmuggler · 2 months

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D.D. | Shane's Girl

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Summary: Daryl Dixon knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you when he’s alone at night in his tent. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you throughout the day. You’re not his. You’re Shane’s girl. But Daryl doesn’t like the way Shane treats you. And he certainly doesn’t like how you’re forced to play ‘loving girlfriend’ to a man with eyes for another woman at the camp.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x female!Reader

Warnings: Shane Walsh sucks, unedited (I will get to it later, I promise)

Word Count: 1.2K

Author’s Note: Oof—alright, it's been a hot second, everybody. Apologies for going MIA for a while (life, y'know?). I haven't forgotten about this fic and I know that none of you have forgotten about it based on the amount of notes and messages I get (which I appreciate greatly). Thanks for sticking it out with me guys. Excited for you all to see what I have planned in the coming chapters. In the meantime, let me know what y'all think of this one & let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist.

“Fuck!”

The expletive escapes your lips before you can think twice about it. You nervously look around the camp, searching for Carl and Sophia. The last thing you need is for Lori and Carol to get on your case because you accidentally taught the children swear words. After realizing that neither of them is in earshot, you let out a sigh of relief.

You look down at the garment in your lap. Shane had thrown a pair of his cargo pants at you earlier this morning, grumbling about a hole in one of his pockets. You had woken up earlier than him, probably because he had returned to your shared tent far after everyone else in camp had retired for the evening. This was becoming somewhat of a routine for the two of you: Shane sneaking around in the middle of the night thinking you’re asleep; meanwhile, you spend the restless nights in your tent waiting to see if he actually comes back. You never ask him where he was in the morning—knowing that Shane would brush you off by saying he was on watch as if you don’t understand that the shifts rotate every night. Another sigh escapes your lips as you defeatedly throw the pants onto the table before you and turn your attention to your finger, which you had clumsily stabbed with a needle while attempting to fix the garment.

“You ‘lright?”

The sound of Daryl’s rough southern drawl makes you jump. You look up and see Daryl standing a few feet away with his raised hands. He takes a few careful steps toward you—his movements are slow and calculated. Your brow furrows at the sight—did he think you’re afraid of him?

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle ya.”

“It’s okay, Daryl. I was just a little distracted.”

Daryl nods at your words before taking a seat beside you at the table.

“What’d ya do to your hand?”

He leans toward you slightly to get a better look, his concerned eyes raking over your hands, looking for any sign of injury. A small smile spreads across your face as Daryl continues to worry about your well-being. You raise your hands to show him that you’re perfectly okay.

“It’s nothing. Just pricked my finger—Shane has a hole in his pocket, and I was never good with a needle and thread.”

You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly as you speak. Daryl chews on his bottom lip as he looks at the cargo pants on the table. It’s ripped along the seam, an easy fix—he’s done it numerous times for his own tattered jeans.

“Give it ‘er.”

You look at Daryl’s outstretched hand in disbelief for several seconds before handing him the needle and thread. Daryl snatches the pants off the table and gets to work. You watch him curiously—his brow furrows as he focuses on the task at hand. Daryl momentarily lets his attention drift to you; he awkwardly shifts in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable with how intently you’re watching him.

“Why are you lookin’ at me like that?”

His tone is defensive, but it doesn’t make you back down like everyone else.

“Just surprised, is all.”

“What, Shane doesn’t know how to sew?”

He meets your incredulous gaze and can’t help but laugh. The sound is still foreign to his ears, even though it’s becoming somewhat of an ordinary occurrence when he’s with you. He’s much more used to the sound of Merle yelling, music blaring, old motorcycles' roar, and the forest's peaceful ambiance.

“Well, you shouldn’t have to do everything for him.”

His genuine words should comfort you, but instead, they nag at you. You shouldn’t have to do everything for him. You shouldn’t have to turn a blind eye to your boyfriend’s nightly habit. You shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around him. You shouldn’t have to make yourself smaller for his convenience. And yet, here you are.

“You have a cigarette?”

The question catches Daryl off guard. He’s only seen you smoke once—that night at the campfire, and he swore it was his fault. Your words from that night still rattle around in his head. You’re a bad influence, Dixon. He completes his final stitch, bringing the thread to his mouth so he can rip it off with his teeth. He places everything back on the table before pulling out his pack of Marlboro Reds from his pocket and offering it to you. You take one from the pack, twisting it in your fingers before placing the cigarette between your lips. Daryl notices your hesitation as he hands you his old lighter, so he waits until you’ve lit your cigarette before pulling out one of his own. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, but something about this doesn’t sit right with Daryl.

“What’s goin’ on?”

You furrow your brow at his question, feigning confusion, but Daryl doesn’t relent. He simply raises a brow at you as he takes another long drag of his cigarette. You let out a defeated sigh before answering his question.

“It’s just Shane…”

You trail off thinking that since it’s relationship drama, maybe Daryl wouldn’t be interested. But he doesn’t try to change the subject or brush you off, instead, he gives you his undivided attention. He watches you quickly look around camp, scooping the area and taking account of who is around. A frown pulls at the corners of Daryl’s lips as he realizes that you’re once again looking over your shoulder for Shane.

“He wasn’t always like this. I mean, he was always a hothead, but he wasn’t always so cruel.”

“Hey…”

The softness in his tone catches you off guard, and you look up at him. A part of you wants to cry at how attentive Daryl is at this moment. It’s been so long since someone has shown you this kind of care.

“You ain’t gotta defend him to me.”

Daryl watches as a single tear falls down your cheek at his words, and he begins to panic. Did he upset you? Was he out of line? Had he gotten the situation between you and Shane wrong? This isn’t his forte. He wishes he was a different man—a better man, a softer man. He wishes he was more like his mother and less like his father. That she could have lived long enough to teach him a few more life lessons—like how to comfort someone you care for.

Before he has the chance to spiral completely out of control, he feels your fingertips find his, and his heart damn near stops. He involuntarily pulls away from your touch, and it makes him wince. He sits in the shame of his response to your touch. A better man would have been able to return your affection. Finally, he meets your gaze, expecting to see the hurt he caused by his reaction. Instead, he’s met with a smile so warm and tender that he can practically feel the shame in his body melt away.

“Thank you, Daryl.”

A small, affectionate smile pulls at the corners of Daryl’s lips.

“It was nothin’.”

You shake your head at his words. What he did for you today was far from nothing, but you let it go, opting to turn your attention back to the cargo pants on the table before you. As you admire Daryl’s handiwork, you can’t help but hope that Daryl knows that Shane’s pocket isn’t the only thing he stitched back together today.

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#twd #The Walking Dead #walking dead #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #Rick Grimes #shane walsh #merle dixon #glenn rhee #lori grimes #the walking dead imagine #walking dead imagine #Norman Reedus #norman reedus imagine #norman reedus x reader

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rickswh0r3 · 6 months

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save me white twink

taglist : @itsgrimeytime @catt-leya @addicted2twd @starkstiless @sinsandsweetness @blazemm98 @grimesgobbler @andrewstinkylinky @eternalrose81 @marlboro-reds-13 @dxrkymxrchy @nadiasgf @taylormarieee @loveforcarl @virtualreader @versatilehater

if you want to join the taglist comment here

#S1 AGAIN IM SORRY BUT HES SO HOT #THIS SONG THO #im lori 🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️#oh to be his wife #HIS TONGUE #god i have so many sinful thoughts rn…….#my knees and my jaw are on the floor #the walking dead #rick grimes #andrew lincoln #rick grimes smut #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes fluff #rick grimes x you #andrew lincoln smut #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes x female reader

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virginsexgod69 · 5 months

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❝Here for You❞

paring: Rick Grimes x f!Reader

summary: After Lori's death, you're there to comfort Rick in any way he needs.

Set in season 3 in the prison after Lori's death

word count: 1,569

content warnings: NSFW // smut // angst // hurt no comfort // pining

cross posted on ao3!

You've always had a thing for Rick. Ever since he arrived at the camp in Atlanta, you had your eye on him.

But he was married.

You weren't a home-wrecker. You wouldn't dare intrude on the happy relationship of a man who was reunited with his family he thought was dead. But that didn't stop you from stealing glances. Sometimes you swore you could feel his blue eyes staring at you too. At some point, those stolen glances turned into the two of you looking longingly at each other. Maybe, just maybe, he felt the same about you?

But be was married.

The longing looks weren't the only thing setting your heart ablaze. It was the way Rick would place his hands on your hips whenever he needed to get by. The way his touch would linger. Not only that, but he was so protective of you, but never controlling . He even took the time to teach you how to properly use a gun. And he always, always made sure you had something to eat, even if it meant less for him. He had to have liked you just a little bit, right?

But be was married.

You knew for sure you'd never have a shot with Rick after you found out Lori was pregnant. Even if nobody could be sure the baby's his, he still stuck by her and who were you to get between that.

But still, that did nothing to stop the fleeting moments between the two of you. In fact, they seemed to happen even more. Maybe he indulged in his desires a bit to soothe his aching heart from the pain of not really knowing if his unborn baby was his. Despite all of this, you fought hope. You wanted him so so bad, but you knew there wasn't a chance in hell it would happen.

Because he was married.

But then he wasn't. Shit hit the fan: the farm was overrun by walkers, Sophia turned, Shane was killed, Andrea never came back, a prison became a home, a baby was born... oh , and Lori died.

It's not like that made you happy. You were sad that she didn't get to say goodbye, that she didn't get time with her newborn, that Rick lost his wife. It took a toll on him. He wasn't the same. He was crazy even. Everyone was on edge around him, constantly walking eggshells as to not set him off. There was just so much tension.

And the tension felt even more uncomfortable as the two of you made your way back to the prison after an unsuccessful run. The tension practically filled the little green car with all the words left unsaid, questions left unasked, feelings left unknown. So, you decided to speak to him for the first time in months.

"Are you okay?" you asked timidly.

His knuckles went white as he gripped the steering wheel even tighter.

" 'M fine," he mumbled not taking his eyes off the road.

That was a damn lie and you both knew it.

"Rick," you said softly, "we're alone now. If you want to talk abou-"

"I said I'm fine!"

He may not have wanted to talk, but you could tell he needed to be comforted and you wanted to be the one to offer him that comfort, no matter how he wanted it. No matter how he needed it.

You placed a gentle hand on his knee, much like how he used to do to you before everything happened.

He sighed with relent before pulling the car over and putting it in park. He placed his hand on top of yours and looked over at you. You fought not to get lost in the sea of his blue eyes as you stared back at him.

"I'm.. I'll be fine, I promise."

You leaned closer to him and placed a gentle hand on his cheek and he leaned into your touch.

"Y'know I'm here to comfort you, right? In any way you need me, I'm here," you promised.

His baby blue eyes drifted from yours down to your lips. His whole demeanor changed. He relaxed for the first time in a while. So much so, he let his inhibitions go as he pulled you closer and crashed his lips into yours.

So many feelings rushed through your head the second your lips made contact. You were shocked. You dreamed and fantasized about this moment forever and now that it was finally happening, you weren't going to let it slip through your fingers. You reciprocated the kiss, indulging in every second before Rick hastily pulled away.

"I'm so sorry," he said between gentle pants "I shouldn't have done that."

Your heart sank. You resented that he regretted your happiest moment.

"Rick," you said with your forehead still against his, "I want this. I want you ." You didn't care how desperate you sounded. Once you got a taste of Rick, you needed more.

And perhaps he felt the same about you because he didn't hesitate to pull you back in for another kiss. Trying your best not to break the kiss, you climbed from the passenger seat onto his lap. His tongue found its way into your mouth and tasted you as if he'd never get another taste. You moaned against his mouth as you tangled your hands in his curly hair. His hands traversed your body before practically tearing off the button up shirt you wore.

"You sure you want this?" he asked. His blue eyes, glistening in the sunlight, looked at you with uncertainty. You could tell he wanted this, but even more so he didn't want to hurt you.

You responded by grinding against his hardening bulge as you pulled him in for a sloppy kiss. His hands firmly gripped your hips as ground you onto his clothed erection. He pulled away from your mouth and placed open mouthed kisses down your neck. You didn't miss the occasional grunts you coaxed out of him which only encouraged you to keep going. He reached up and unclasped your bra, slid it off your arms, and tossed it aside. Embarrassed by the exposure, you automatically moved to cover yourself, but Rick caught your wrists.

"Don't. Let me see you. You're so beautiful," he rasped.

Oh Rick. He was even sweeter than you anticipated which set you ablaze and drove the butterflies in your tummy crazy. You needed him. You hurried to undo his belt as he was fondling your breasts while placing kisses along your collar bones. He lifted his hips just enough for you to pull his pants down. He took a nipple into his mouth as you palmed his bulge through his boxers.

"I-I need you," you wantonly moaned.

" 'M all yours."

You freed his rock hard erection from his boxers and stroked it a few times before moving to pull off your own pants. Rick helped you get out of them, stopping for a second to admire the wetness accumulated in your panties. He pulled them aside and lined his dick with your entrance, letting you slowly sink down on it. He stretched you so good that the pain only added to your pleasure.

"I've fantasized about you since you arrived at the camp in Atlanta," you confessed.

"I can't say I haven't wanted you this way for a while too. Whenever I caught you staring at me with those doe eyes, my imagination ran wild."

Once you felt comfortable enough, you began to move. You held onto his shoulders for support as you bounced on his dick. He threw his head back as he moaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. He couldn't take it anymore and held onto your hips again as he thrusted up into you. He watched you with admiration in his eyes as your breasts bounced with each and every one of his thrusts.

"You feel so good around my cock, princess."

"Oh god Rick, I think I'm gonna-"

You didn't get to finish your sentence since he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you down for another kiss. Your walls clenched around him as his thrusts grew sloppy. You were both about to cum.

"That's it, cum for me Lori."

You both froze. The butterflies in your tummy were stabbed to death by the shards of your broken heart. You felt a lump in your throat as you tried to hold back the hot tears burning the corners of your eyes. Rick looked at you brokenheartedly with shame swimming in his eyes as you pulled yourself off of him.

"Lor- er, Y/N, I'm sor-"

"Don't."

God you sounded so... broken .

You both dressed yourselves in awkward silence. Rick sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He sounded like he wanted to say something, but decided against it, which was good because you'd have ignored him anyway.

"The sun's setting, we should get back to the prison," you said cooly.

"Y/N, I-"

"Just stop!"

A beat of silence passed and Rick finally started up the car and resumed the drive back to the prison.

You let your tears fall silently as you stared out the window, but you eventually closed your eyes. Your stomach churned at the sight of his wedding band's reflection in the window, signifying that even though his wife was dead, he was still married.

#the walking dead #rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #the walking dead smut #rick grimes x reader smut #rick grimes x reader angst #rick grimes x you #angst #smut #hurt/comfort #hurt no comfort #x reader #female reader #fanfic #lori grimes #twd season 3 #prison era #prison

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zombiewhor3 · 1 year

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THE SHERIFF

rick grimes x fem reader

WARNINGS: age gap, reader is 22-23, mentions of cheating, still married rick, shane, season two era, soft smut, reader is able to consent, mentions of alcohol consumption

She had been a few years younger than the sheriff ,

by a few she meant there was just about 6 years difference between them, but in her eyes it wasn’t that much of a gap besides his wife was only a few years younger than him what would be the deal with adding on a few more years.

It was post apocalypse now and hadn't felt it ideal to judge people for their lively hood decisions because no matter what everyone around them had their secrets, they had their fetishes and they had their preferences whether big or small it didn't matter.

he had a wife and kid so of course it wasn’t ideal for her mind to even wander in that direction, it wasn't the brightest idea for her to develop a crush on him as the world was ending.

Yet again it wasn’t ideal that his wife had screwed his best friend just a few months after his supposed death. In y/n’s eyes it was wrong and utterly embarrassing on Loris behalf for being so stupid.

she could practically feel the tension waving off the three, the way Lori was trying to cover her history with the somewhat clueless Rick who had just learned the world was ending.

she had her own set of fantasies about him, she loved to watch as he was out training shooting with the members at the farm, the way that he was forceful but yet calm with each person.

she liked the fact that he was the group leader, the way he was able to keep them safe and solve their problems with that mind of his.

It always seemed to bring a set of butterflies inside of her when she saw him, she felt like the universe was forcing her to cross her legs to hide the pressure that was building up in her.

Carol noticed the way she'd look at him she noticed the longed hazed out glances, the way y/n had seemed to lose her words around him whenever he started to show her something.

well Daryl did to he noticed everything so it wasn't a shock that he had picked up on the obvious tension that he was sure the others should've noticed by now, but he was so silent he hadn’t even mentioned the solid tension between Rick and her.

he kept to himself on the hill, hunting and doing whatever the hell he seemed to do when he had all the god damn time in the world.

Carol had fondly mentioned it before when she could see the glimmer in her eyes every time she looked at the man but y/n shook it off claiming that she was just nervous of screwing up.

that she was afraid of being kicked from the group for a small mistake which was partially the truth but not the reason she couldn't keep her eyes off of the sheriff.

y/n had practically passed out as she watched him step out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist at the CDC building, the way the water was resting on his chest and the way his hair had been slicked back ever so perfectly.

it made her melt inside like she was a teen girl.

Carol had noticed the way y/n seemed to get so damn flustered over everything he did, or anything he said to her even just a small glance from his eyes set her off.

she mostly kept to her own business and never spoke about the anticipation between the two to the others, besides what the did in the shadows was their own business.

Now it was them left at the campfire while the others had been invited to sleep inside for the night, besides they were on watch so it was easier for them to sleep outside anyways.

y/n looked up at Rick who had been staring softly with his pinkie finger in his mouth nibbling on the thinly growing nail while his eyes seemed to be laced on her like bees to a hive.

She took a sip from her cup that had been filled with tea as a courtesy from nice blonde girl herself who was resting up inside the farm house way aways from them.

she felt the warm liquid slip down her throat before she spoke,

“Shouldn’t you keep an eye out for walkers? make sure we don't get another ambush?” She asked bringing the mug back up to her lips gulping down another sip licking her lips clean.

“Place is dead and it’s quiet no walkers are gonna be out here unless it’s stragglers”

rick spoke pulling his finger away from his mouth as he still seemed to stare at her, “why do you keep staring?” She asked trying to ignore the fact she seemed to like the way his eyes were sinking into her.

“i'm not staring” he replied watching as her eyes widened and she took another sip of her tea, he licked his lips reaching out to pull the mug away from her resting it down on the log next to him.

“don't you ever think about it? i mean the end of the world” She asked as she looked up at the sky watching as the stars glimmered brighter than she had ever seen in the city pre-apocalypse.

"i think about it all day" he took a swig of the water and watched as she took in a deep breath trying to find the right way to start a conversation about the age gap between them,

"is our age gap weird?" she asked suddenly and she felt the feeling of the question start to rush to her cheeks, it started to fill her up with the embarrassment of the foolish question.

“well no I don’t think so, it’s well about six years, maybe five when you turn twenty three next month” he smiled at her watching her place a smile on her face as she looked down trying to hide the raging blush that seemed to fill her entire face.

“You know my birthday?” She asked crossing her legs because she could feel the butterflies starting to churn back inside of her just from the subtle idea someone remembered something about her.

“I know pretty much everything, I’ve been asking the others about you to see how we can make you more welcome in the group” he admitted fixing his posture while he looked at her, still with the lust lacing through his eyes while he stared at her.

“really?” She asked shyly, she hadn’t had anyone put in that much effort for her not even men older than him had seemed to care this much about how she felt or if she felt 'welcomed' enough

She couldn’t help but feel her thighs starting to force themselves together as she squirmed at the own demise as her panties started to soak, the cotton underneath her jeans had been pooling with her own juices from the way she was watching him stare at her,

her heart skipped with each flick from her eyes looking him up and down like he was just the best god damn thing she had ever seen.

he had taken a notice the way she squirmed at even just the small action he took, his eyes couldn’t linger away from her for more than a damn second, it was like she was mesmerizing.

Like a siren in the deep blue of the ocean that was calling to him, he could tell she was nervous or maybe even turned on from him, probably a mix of both if his mind was being honest.

"no one else really seemed to pay attention" she mumbled underneath her breath hoping that he hadn't heard her pity remark about the others and their lack of consciousness to each other.

"i'm just used to letting the others walk over me and boss me around i never really have a say like you do" she admitted to him watching as he cocked his head to the side softly.

she knew she was starting to ramble about, letting her thoughts spill from her brain and roll out on her tongue,

"usually i'm the one who's given the orders and i just do what i'm told" she admitted and watched as his expression changed, his jaw shifted a little like he was frustrated at what she said.

"don't let them get to you, you see the way they tried to trample all over Daryl about looking for Sophia? it's quite just the doing of the fact we're all trying tor survive"

rick spoke taking a sip of his water canteen letting his eyes flick back up at her, she smiled at him as she took the last sip of her tea and set down the empty tea cup on the log beside her.

she watched as he moved his seat so he could sit next to her, she felt the side of his holster digging into part of her thigh because of the way they were pressed against one another.

he turned to look at her with a dim expression, before his hand rested at the side of her cheek he watched a smile arise on her face as he kissed her gently so he could taste her.

she could taste whiskey and peppermint on his tongue, he smelt like the crisp woods around them, her hands wrapped around the back of his neck to take in more of the kiss.

without even a slight struggle she was pulled into his lap, he felt her thighs squeeze together as she tried to create some sort of friction through the denim of her jeans.

he had helped her by guiding her hips with his, she hummed out against his lips sending a soft vibration through both of their bodies.

She fiddled at the buttons of the dusty tan shirt he was wearing, she wanted to feel him pressed up against her and it was like she couldn’t wait.

he could feel the eagerness of each button that came undone in the shirt until it was left in the dirt behind him, his chest pressed against hers.

It was his turn to strip her shirt and he hadn’t even hesitated to pull off the matted black tank to leave it on the ground with his shirt.

he had lifted her up from the log, taking her into her personal tent, he placed her down against the floor of it and used a pillow to prop her head up.

“you deserve more privacy” he remarked at her and watched as she smiled and ran one of her hands throughout his brown strands.

She tore off his pants feeling as he did the same to her, with nothing but undergarments on her body she couldn’t help but buck her hips up just so she could get more friction from him.

he kissed from in-between the valley of her breasts until he reached her navel, he peppered over her body and it made her hum.

it made her smile with each and every kiss that was ever so delicately placed on her skin.

“rick” she whispered aloud and she watched as he flicked his eyes up to look at her, his thumbs rubbing circles at the sides of her waist.

“Need you so bad” she mumbled out to him and watched as he gently tugged at the sides of her panties to pull them off.

He tossed them to the corner of the tent, his hands moved to her back and with one gentle sweep of a motion she felt her breasts fall free.

his own boxers were slipped down his thighs until they slipped off his legs and tossed away, she practically choked on her words when she saw just how large he was.

he rubbed at the sides of her cheeks before he had lined up with her, just to give her a little taste he had rubbed at it making her squirm.

“please rick, need you so bad” she pleaded aloud as her body practically arched up from the bed, with a simple motion of his hips he thrusted into her filling her entire cunt up with him.

Her nails clawed at his back with each and every thrust, first gentle and once she got the full feel of him she couldn’t seem to stop begging for him just to let her have it all.

she bit down on her lip to hide a scream that was going to rip from the deep pit of her throat from how well she felt him inside her.

He shushed her softly as he heard a struggled silenced whine come from between her lips,

with each and every whimper that came from her mouth he wished that he could hear the full thing because even just a sliver of her voice was driving him crazy.

he pressed his body even closer against her so that he could be able to thrust inside her easier, he felt her nails leave streaks on his shoulders.

he whispered sweet-nothings to her until he could feel her walls clench because she was on the verge of spilling over.

“fuck I think I’m gonna-“ she paused at the feeling of his thumb rubbing at her clit making her gasp and let out a croaked moan.

“come on, come for me princess” he whispered to her feeling his cock twitch with each motion of her walls clenching against him.

Within a few seconds they both felt the peaceful and sudden bliss wash over them, her juices sputtered on his abdomen and he had spilt a top of the skin on her stomach.

He watched her breathing rise and she whined at the his gentle touch as he used a canteen to get rag in her tent damp and he wiped away the mess he made against her skin.

he slipped her bra and underwear back on along with the jeans he had taken off of her, leaving the button undone he tossed a blanket over her.

he kissed the top of her forehead before getting himself dressed and laying with her, his hands wrapped around her waist and she smiled.

she closed her eyes and let out a soft yawn,

she woke up sitting up to see that the place next to her was cold, he must’ve gotten up hours ago.

she rubbed her eyes and looked for her t-shirt but it was no where to be found, she tossed her blanket off of her as she rustled through her bag.

she cursed softly as she realized that the must’ve left the shirts by the camp fire last night, she peaked her head out of the tent to see the group surrounded by a morning fire.

she smiled awkwardly before sticking her head back in the tent, she hadn’t seen the shirt by the log where they left it, and Rick wasn’t visible.

“fuck” she mumbled as she sat back in her tent, even if the shirt was there how could she explain how it even ended up there with his own son and best friend sitting there just a few feet away.

she tossed on her jacket and even though her bra was still visible through the gap she had almost made her way out of the tent but she stopped once she looked to the side of her tent.

there her shirt was strung up and she smiled as she slipped the tank back on and was finally able to make her way out of the tent.

he must’ve gotten their scattered clothes back together before she had woken up, she took a seat on the log next to Daryl and watched as he was cooking a snake over it.

he had even offered y/n some but she passed on the offer with a nice reply and smile watching as his eyes flicked back to his cooking breakfast.

“next time could you two keep it down? you and Rick are going to draw coyotes or walkers” she felt the words whispered in her ear practically trickle down her neck sending her shivers.

she gulped and put back the smile on her face so no one would catch on, “you know about that?” she whispered back leaning closer so that she didn’t have to speak as loud.

“What don’t I know about this group?” He remarked and pulled the snake away from the fire and began to start skinning it.

he placed a piece of the cut up meat on his knife in his mouth chewing it before he spoke again, “he’s up in the house if you need him”

y/n placed a rub on the top of Daryl’s head before standing up from the log and making her way up the hill until she finally reached the house.

Even though they had been here for weeks out of respect she still knocked before she entered just to alert that she was entering the house.

Rick was sitting in the living room drinking a glass of whiskey that Hershel had poured for him, Hershel was speaking with his daughter in the other room while ricks eyes flicked up to look at y/n who felt like she was out of place in the house.

“morning sunshine”

he spoke and watched as she took a seat next to him, he offered her a sip of the whiskey but she denied with a soft shake of her head.

“you hung my shirt up in the tent” she chuckled and watched him smile as he set the finished glass onto the coffee table in front of them.

“I did” he replied feeling as their legs touch from the way he purposefully had spread his, she reached out for his hand and felt as he clenched her hand gently as he took a gaze at her.

They didn’t have any clue what was next, they didn’t know how his son would handle this even though he knew the tension between Shane and them was belligerently obvious.

“whatever happens you don’t let them walk all over you, even if I’m not here” he spoke and peppered a kiss a top of her head.

“understood sheriff”

#the walking dead #the walking dead fic #twd #twd smut #twd spoilers #rickgrimes #Rick #rick grimes twd #rickgrimesmut #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes #the walking dead fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #carol twd #Lori twd

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danineedsanap · 1 year

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I need all my Daryl Dixon girlies to remember that, at the very least he USED to, POSSIBLY STILL DOES, believe he saw a real Chupacabra.

That’s it

That’s the post

#like.#this man. LMAO #all dark and mysterious #but believes In the fucking chupacabra #daryl x reader #he is not a serious man #daryl dixon #norman reedus #rick grimes #ricky dicky doo da grimes #the walking dead #the walking dead season 2 #carl grimes #Lori grimes #shane walsh #sophia peletier #carol peletier #beth greene #maggie greene

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softestnatalie · 8 months

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Abandoned corridors of the heart

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x female!reader

Timing: Season 1

Chapter Summary: Your group arrives at the CDC and things don't go exactly as planned. Daryl seems to regret the words he’s said.

Warnings: alcohol use, characther death, dead bodies

Autor's note: I really love this chapter 'cause Daryl and reader finally have their first honest moment together (even tho they're drunk lol). Also, I am so sorry for the long wait, school is really time consuming, but I hope you can unterstand. Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated and the support would really help me. Have fun reading <3

Chapter 4: Just for one moment

Your eyes followed Jim as the van started moving again, his body leaning against a tree with his eyes closed as he tried to fall asleep in peace. Your heart cracked a little more at the state he was in; his skin bright red and glowing, showing how much he must have been burning up from the inside, the droplets of sweat running down his face and neck only proving the point.

He refused to go any further with you and your group, his body hurting unbearably and the fear of putting just a single one of his people in danger because of his bite made him stay right there - beside the road - as the rest of you drove away.

Leaving him behind hurt you more than you'd like to admit, your hands grabbing the fabric of your dirty jeans harshly as you forced yourself to let him go. You hadn't known him for long - only four days - but he was kind - kind enough to let you stay with him and his friends even though none of them knew you.

With a heavy sigh leaving your lips, you sat down on your knees, still looking out the window and watching as the woods around you blurred when Dale sped up the van. It was quiet - awfully quiet - and the tension inside the moving vehicle was thick enough to cut with a knife, the loss of yet another member of the group affecting everybody.

"You okay?" Glenn whispered after a few more minutes of silence, trying to be as private as possible, though you were sure the others could hear him just fine.

You didn't react at first and Glenn thought that maybe you didn't even realise he was talking to you but then you turned your head, staring at him with an expression he could only describe as pained. You nodded slowly even though both of you knew it was a lie.

The asian boy bit his lip in concern, not sure if he should just drop it, "You sure?" He whispered again after a moment, deciding to ask you a second time.

And as if that one simple question was enough to hurt you, your facade crumbled, the blank expression you had on your face molded into a quivering lip and furrowed eyebrows. Before you could do anything to stop it, your throat clenched tightly as a sob broke through. It was too much for you. Death and blood was all you could see in that moment - three people in just one night; Amy, Jim, and your mother. Deep down you'd always known that she'd leave someday, sooner ot later. It wasn't supposed to be this soon though.

Gleen's eyebrows shot up in shock when he heard your cries, looking around and seeing everyone's eyes directed on your tiny figure. He hesitated for a second before he reached out his arm, wrapping it around your shoulder and pulling you into his side carefully, trying to give you a small piece of comfort. Though it only made you cry harder. Your nails were digging into your palms, your body tensing as you wished to be somewhere else - alone.

Andrea placed one of her hands over yours, squeezing it softly and telling you silently that she understood your pain. You didn't look at her but you were thankful.

A few hours later, the van stopped in front of a road blockade. Glenn stood up, forcing you to lift your head off of his chest as you got back on your feet as well, following him out of the vehicle. Your arm flew over your face - covering your mouth and nose - as soon as you stepped outside, the corpses on the street making the air smell way too bad.

The group stumbled over the dead bodies, Shane and Rick leading all of you to the huge, white building with their guns raised, ready to shoot if something was to attack them.

"Keep moving, come on," Rick said, looking behind him to make sure everybody was following along.

Shane tried to pull up the shutters while Rick banged on them, trying to get inside or to make whoever was living in that building realise you were there. Though nobody showed a sign of letting you all in and you figured the CDC was empty.

You jumped when Daryl started yelling all of a sudden, raising his crossbow, "Walkers!"

Before you could even react on your own, Glenn grabbed your shoulder, forcing to to hide behind him, shotgun in hand and ready to shoot, "Stay there, okay?" He looked at you with a worried yet serious expression, "Right behind me, you understand?"

You nodded in agreement. Not only because you trusted him but also beause you didn't have any kind of weapon with you, making it quite impossible for you to protect yourself.

Everybody was tense and disappointed, the hope of getting help - maybe even some kind of cure - gone. Just gone. Shane was trying to think of another plan - another place for you to go - while Rick didn't want to accept your defeat.

"You're killing us! You're killing us!" He screamed repeatedly as he continued to bang on the shutters. And it was honestly starting to scare you, the noise attracting even more walkers, Daryl taking care of them.

"There's no one there!" Shane yelled and grabbed Rick roughly by the collar of his sheriff uniform, pulling him away and forcing him to come with the rest of the group.

And just then, the shutters opened, a bright light making you wince and cover your eyes.

Everybody's movements paused, looking at the now open building in shock - almost disbelief. Someone was there. A doctor. Alive. Your mouth dropped slightly as you realised there was still a chance. Hope.

"Come on," Glenn whispered to you, following Rick and Shane inside in small, carful steps.

The inside was - you didn't even know how to describe it - but you guessed beautiful was an accurate word. Clean. It looked almost innocent - as if everything was still normal.

"Hello?" Rick called out.

The clicking sound of a gun was heard, "Anybody infected?" A blonde, old looking man made his way towards you, keeping his gun raised.

Rick swallowed loudly, "One of our group was," he lowered his head, "He didn't make it."

The mention of Jim made another frown appear on your face, thinking that if the doctor in front of you had any kind of medicine to stop the infection, Jim wouldn't be able to recieve it anymore.

"Why are you here? What do you want?" The man asked so quickly you almost couldn't understand his words.

"A chance," you spoke up when nobody knew what to say, "We want a chance."

The man's eyes drifted towards you, noticing you for the first time. He seemed to think about your words before he eventually agreed, "You all submit to a blood test."

Later that night, Jenner let you all have dinner with him and to say you were fascinated by the dishes on the table would be an understatement. Real food, right in front of you, something you all hadn't seen in weeks. It made you crack a tiny smile, being beyond grateful for the doctor's hospitality.

"You know, in Italy, children have a little bit of wine with dinner," Dale laughed as he filled Lori's glass with the red substance, "And in France."

Lori shook her head and covered Carl's glass with her hand, taking a sip of her wine, "Well, and when Carl is in Italy or France, he can have some."

The group laughed again and everyone seemed to be in a good mood for once, wearing big smiles and grins on their faces. And even though you were still really sad about your recent loss, you managed to have a good time, laughing when Carl was allowed to taste a tiny sip, watching as he swallowed it with a grimace, an 'ewww' leaving his lips.

"Now ya, (y/n)," Daryl's voice surprised you, "I wanna see how red yer face can get," He walked towards you with a wine bottle in his left hand and, surprisingly, with his lips formed in a teasing smile. You didn't think you would ever get to see Daryl smile. Acutally smile.

"Oh no, no no," you shook your head and waved your hands around, but it was no use, he was already filling your glass up, not even giving you time to take it yourself. Instead, he took it with one hand, the other grabbing the back of your head as he brought the glass up to your lips, making you drink a bit of it.

"Here, easy, girl," he said as he put the glass on the table, the group laughing once again when they saw your pursed lips, the red liquid running down the corners of your mouth.

"You got a little something on your face," Glenn teased as you swallowed and used your arm to clean your chin.

"Ha ha," you poked your tongue at him before chuckling as well, then looking at Daryl, who was still grinning.

If a little bit of alcohol gets him like this, I'll have to get him drunk more often, you thought. It was nice to see him in a better mood, less serious and guarded. And if you were being as open as you could be; the dimples that formed when he smiled looked quite pretty on him. You have had thoughts like that before - about him - but you chose to ignore them whenever they came up at night, knowing it was for the better, wanting to protect your heart from any more pain. And even though it might sound harsh; Daryl wasn't really the type of man your mother would have approved of.

After dinner, Jenner showed you the rooms your group could stay in. 6. Exactly 6 rooms - which of course wasn't enough for everybody to have their own, so the rooms had to get shared. Rick with Lori and Carl, Dale with Andrea, Carol with Sophia, T-Dog with Jacqui, and Shane with Glenn, leaving you with Daryl.

Glenn gave you an apologetic look as he walked off with Shane, making you pout like a little child. You were hoping to share a room with him since he was the closest to you out of the group. You were also quite drunk after Daryl had poured you another glass, and staying with said man - who apparently only liked you when he was inebriated - was making you a little too nervous.

He swung his arm over your shoulder, pulling you into him with a rather rough motion which made you yelp in surprise, "Come on, girl," he slurred his words and you were honsetly a little scared he wouldn't even remember the night the next morning, "Let's get us to bed," he started walking the both of you into the room, closing the door with his foot, almost slamming it shut, the loud noise ringing through the hallway.

"I can take the floor," you said, looking at the single bed - blanket folded neatly on top of it - and untangling his arm from around your neck. You waited a few seconds but when you didn't get an answer, you looked into his direction.

Big mistake.

"Daryl!" you exclaimed, averting your eyes as quickly as they had found him, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Gonna take a shower," he mumbled and eyed you a little confused once he had the buttons off his shirt open, his chest still covered though, "Wha', barbie? Never seen skin 'fore?" He walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

You scoffed at his words, rolling your eyes and plopping down on the bed, waiting for Daryl to finish his shower so you could wash yourself as well. Again, something you all hadn't done in weeks. You took the time alone to sober up a little bit, your brain becoming only the tiniest bit clearer.

You were hoping your group could stay here on long terms. Doctor Jenner didn't tell you how long your group was allowed to be there, but if everything turned out to be as good as it seemed, you really thought your group had a chance of actually living at the CDC. If Jenner let you, that is. You would be safe, the shutters making sure that no walker could ever get inside, enough food and water for at least a few months, and real beds to sleep on. Almost as normal as the life each of you had had before the apocalypse started. Almost.

"'M done," his gruff voice pulled you out of your thoughts, your eyes finding his frame, dressed into the same, dirty clothes with his hair wet and drops of water dripping down his forehead.

You nodded and stood up, rushing into the bathroom with quite a lot of eagerness, "You better didn't use up all the hot water," you spoke loud enough so he could hear you through the door. He didn't anwser.

You took your clothes off hastily and you couldn't help the loud sigh that left your lips when the dirty garments were finally not on your skin anymore. The thought of having to put them on again disgusted you. The cold air made goosebumps rise on your pale body so you finally stepped inside the shower and turned on the water. Your mouth opened in a silent moan once the warm substance hit you, your head dropping back, savoring the sensation you hadn't felt in so long.

The transparent liquid turned into a brownish colour as you rubbed your skin, getting weeks of dirt and the proof of basically living on the streets off of you. It was quite fascinating how something so normal - something people used to do on a daily basis - can become something so special once it gets taken away from them. And you were sure that if life would ever return to normal, you would appreciate every single meal, every single shower, and every single night you would get to sleep on a bed.

A few minutes later, you turned off the water, wishing you could stay inside the shower a little longer, but you didn't want to use too much of the doctor's water, so you stepped out with another sigh, shivering at the cold once again as your body had to get used to the air. You dried yourself with a towel before you put your clothes back on, taking a mental note to wash them as soon as possible.

The mirror on the wall showed you what you had been so scared of seeing and you really couldn't even recognise yourself anymore. You felt as if a completely different person - a stranger - was staring back at you. Your skin much paler than you had ever seen it before, cheekbones and jawline way more visible than they had been just a few weeks ago, eye bags decorating your face, and your hair was - even though you brushed it as often as possible - tangled.

The sight made you frown visibly. Who even were you anymore?

You didn't want to have to see your reflection any longer so you left the bathroom in a hurry. Though, you stopped in your tracks when you saw Daryl lying on the floor right next to the bed. His body was slightly curled up and he didn't move so you guessed he was already asleep. You didn't miss the fact that he purposely left the bed to you, though, you didn't know if that made you feel happy or frustrated. You didn't want him to sleep on the floor because of you and, really, you would have been fine with taking the hard surface. And if he would have been awake you certainly would have argued with him, but he wasn't and you didn't want to wake him up. He didn't seem to sleep that much as it was so you climbed into bed as silently as possible, not wanting to make too much noise.

"Didn' mean it," you had just laid down when his voice rang through the room in a quiet whisper, making you turn your head to look into his direction, even though you couldn't properly see him from where you were laying.

"What do you mean?" You asked him, not knowing what he was talking about.

It was quiet fot a few seconds and you were sure that he really had fallen asleep this time but then he spoke up again, "What I said," he started, "At the camp. 'Bout y'all deservin' what happened. Didn' mean it."

You thought about his words and realised that this was probably his was of saying sorry. You didn’t think he would even try to apologise but there he was, telling you he didn't mean what he had said. And maybe he didn't notice, but the small smile on your face showed how much that meant to you. You hoped he would be just as nice to you when he was fully sober, but a part of you was sure he wouldn't be. Still, the fact that he cared about what you thought was enough for you in that moment.

"I know."

Tag list:

@goth-cowgirl-03 @paintlavillered @hotgirlsshareaccounts @tiedyedghoulette @alialiclouds @angelofthorr

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twdxtrevor · 1 year

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Pov: Daryl & Lori arguing over who Rick loves more

#twd #the walking dead #twd meme #daryl dixon twd #norman reedus #twd daryl #rick grimes #ricky dicky doo da grimes #twd rick #rick x daryl #daryl dixon #daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixion imagine #rick grimes imagine #rickyl #lori grimes #lori and Rick

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yesimilkdamilkman · 4 months

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Season 3 Episode 4, "Killer Within" also known as Lori's death and the beginning of my serial killer boyfriend.

#༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚.🕯️#carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #twd carl #carl grimes smut #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes #twd x reader #twd fanfiction #twd #the walking dead #rick grimes #glenn rhee #daryl dixon #lori grimes

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havin-fun-imagining-twd · 5 days

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Penance + (knock-off) Ambrosia

still alive, slowpokes :P

When -- during the meal at the Greene's Farm as seen in S02 Chupacabra. After Shame on a plate.

What -- Carol wanted to cook a communal dinner for the Greenes in thanks for all they've done to help your group. Under the weight of Otis' death as well as possibly having to vacate to God-knows-where, the shared meal is tense. Meanwhile, Daryl's busy beating himself up alone in his room and won't eat.

Relationships -- slow burn Daryl x You

Perspective -- You 2nd, Daryl 3rd

Pronouns -- neutral

TWs -- some language, and a non-descriptive allusion to Shane's actions in Stuck in a damn bed.

Masterlist -- Official one here and Chronological one here

feedback is nice to get :D

Jimmy’s note to you reads: “What’s a pirate’s faverite letter?”

Easy, you know this one!

After double-taking at the typo, you scribble back “aRRRR!” and pass it to where he sits beside you, a smug grin tucked in your face. Only rule is: don’t laugh.

Yo, this table is fun, you’re not even embarrassed about being in your mid-twenties and sitting at the kiddie table. It’s too bad Carl tired himself out earlier, he’d be in stitches!

Oh, come to think of it, that wouldn’t be good, his actual stitches are still healing. So are yours, for that matter…

Anyway, it started off as a silly thing: Not 5 minutes into the meal, Beth had tiptoed to get her drawing pad from the den and wrote “please pass white gravy + pepper?” instead of whispering it, because supper had/has been that darn quiet.

This immediately (and somehow wordlessly) turned into the no-laugh competition you’ve all got going.

Granted, laughing out loud might would make the dinner a little less stiff, but you aren’t certain.

The big table seems rough. They’re barely making eye contact, not really talking, eesh.

Before dinner began, Patricia, Lori, and Carol were chatting as they finished up the cooking, and at the same time there was light discussion as you were helping wash the dishes and set the table with your friends. Even Lori exiting Carl’s room after plainly having been crying didn’t alter the good jibing any, things were chill.

But when everyone came in, sat down together? It got uneasy. When Mr. Greene said the blessing it almost felt too loud.

Now the room is limited to clinking, scraping noises, murmured niceties, and hushed requests to pass things.

You did almost lose the no-laugh game first when Glenn quietly mimicked the way Gollum said “what’s taters, precious?” because you whispered at him to “pass the mashed taters, please?” instead of ‘potatoes.’ Don’t fret, you’d obviously murmured back the only correct response of “po-tay-toes?” as well as the cooking instructions Sam says in the movie.

You almost lost it again when Glenn next decided to break the silence by asking the entire room if anybody knew how to play the guitar. The crickets that followed, hilarious!

Except, Patricia spoke up that her husband had known, and Mr. Greene agreed about how skilled Otis had been.

Boy, did the tension spike.

You’d peeked around to see if Shane was okay. He wasn’t. His expression had taken on that 1000 yard stare sort of deal he’s been slipping into. Scared, lost. Then hard and almost mean.

Something got broke in him real bad that night Otis got killed. It’s scary, especially considering how he snapped at you yesterday and even…never mind, you don’t want to get into it.

At any rate, he made a very serious apology to you earlier today, very serious.

So, yeah, the room turned way more tense after that innocent guitar question, certainly sobered you up right quick. And the strange sensation you’d had after Amy got killed, the one where it felt as if her blood was back on it, it started to come back pretty strong. Granted, it had come back after what happened with Shane the other day, but the sensation revved up. The Otis reminder didn’t help, and at least to you, it made the unspoken understanding of Sophia twist harder, too.

When poor Jimmy got teary when his dad was brought up, you traced a blessing on his forehead and set to scribbling the next dumb joke you could think of on another scrap of paper for him and reminded yourself your hand was clean and that Otis and Sophia’s fates weren’t on you.

As for poor Glenn, once the exchange was over, he looked like he wanted to transform into a chair.

Silver lining was that Maggie helped him feel better; she slipped him a note that must’ve been a really good joke because Glenn seemed giddy as a schoolboy as he wrote down the punchline or whatever.

‘Schoolboy’ is definitely the best term — Mr. Greene and Dale happened to see Glenn sneaking back his response and were staring at the folded paper in his hand.

It’s kinda silly, right? Not only were you, Margaret, and Glenn sat at the kid table, but you were also acting like kids, what with the note-passing. Caught by the principal lol.

In the moment, you’d figured might as well, and so scribbled in big letters on the back of the notepad itself: “Too quiet, so we pass notes!”

When you held it up to the two of them, Dale read the words, swallowed a smile, then mouthed "troublemaker" to you.

As for Mr. Greene, his expression was, per usual, unreadable.

That was, what, all of 10 minutes ago? And it’s still a quiet, tense meal.

Maggie didn’t taken the note from Glenn out her pocket to share it. A part of you hopes it’s something sweet, therefore private.

Right now, you’re staring at your plate and thinking on how you’ve already got helping #2 on your plate. It makes you wonder if the quiet in the room, tense as it feels, might could be related to the food?

’Cause yo, it’s been so long since a hot meal this good!

Even the heartbreak about Sophia isn’t enough to stop the cravings from going into overdrive (not true, actually, but the meal is great, is what you mean)—and Carol orchestrated the dinner, anyway. She’s in a place where even she can eat, so…

Wiping your hand on your napkin again (and again), you take another sip of water, and fidget with your fork and knife.

God save you, you want to go hog wild on the food and shove it all into your mouth in one fell swoop, so, maybe everyone else is also extra quiet to focus on eating politely and not stuffing it all in their face like half-starved hamsters, too.

That’s a nice thing to imagine, rather than it being gonna-get-kicked-off-the-property-and-we’re-very-sorry-Otis-is-dead-and-are-we-allowed-to-enjoy-things-when-Sophia-is-probably-dead? tenseness.

Because the food really is so yummy! And there are potatoes! Carol was so thrilled to find out they have potatoes! And there’s dairy! Therefore butter and cream and milk — hallelujah!— oh, you did a happy dance the second a forkful of the mashed taters touched your lips!

Back to the present, as you set to crafting an unnaturally large bite featuring a taste of everything from your plate, Jimmy is reading your response to his pirate joke while — grinning wide and shaking his head?

Then, you see as he scratches with the pen again on the note in his lap and hands it back to you.

Is not a pirate’s favorite letter R? What other letter could it…

You keep chewing your enormous mouthful while you open the folded note.

It reads, “aRRRR? Nay, ‘tis the C!”

…

OH MY GOSH—

___________________________

Him

___________________________

A familiar laugh belted out from down the hallway where they was all doing dinner. This was followed by couple seconds of silence even more dead than the dinner already sounded.

But after that? It was as if a dam had burst and carried in pack of hyenas who quickly overtook the dining room. He next thought he heard the word “pirate,” but that made no sense. A few minutes later, the hyenas seem to have left, judging by how shit got all quiet again.

That is until another noise, this time suspiciously moan-like, called out from the dining room. Within a second or two, he heard the food’s praises sung, T-Dog leading the charge, and, well, the din stayed put after that.

One, big, happy family.

Minus one missing little girl.

Daryl hadn’t touched his plate yet, hadn’t moved from his spot on the bed. Didn’t feel like eating.

How those dickbags was having a dinner was beyond him at that point.

The search today was a bust, yet again. The neighborhood T-Dog’s group went to check was mostly burned down, and the highway spot set up for Sophia was still untouched.

Carol’s words to him wouldn’t shut up, neither — and why in the hell she gave him a kiss on his head?!

“You did more for my little girl that day than her own daddy ever did in his whole life,” she’d told him.

Can you believe that shit? “You did more for my little girl that day than her own daddy ever did in his whole life.” If failing and getting benched for a week was the best that little girl ever got, she had a piss poor life, and that fact whipped Daryl on the back harder than his own old man ever had.

Speaking of, when Carol brought him his tray, she hadn’t knocked. Meaning, Daryl hadn’t had time to pull the sheet over his shoulder before she walked in. His shirt had been off.

Daryl’s hope was that it’d been dark enough in the room that she wouldn’t see the scarring, just the tattoos. He felt like a goddamn lazy idiot — he hadn’t felt like putting his shirt back on after Patricia checked his stitches, and house got warm from the cooking, besides. And because he didn’t care to slump out of bed and wrench open the window more, he stayed shirtless and decided to simply kick off his blankets.

Joke’s on him.

He could just about hear Merle tell him, “quit wallowin’ like you’re on your period, Darylina.”

Well, Merle wasn’t really there, so Daryl would wallow all he wanted, and think on Carol telling him that he was also “every bit as good as them.”

As Rick, as Shane, as T-Dog, as Glenn, as — who cares, it didn’t matter. Because Daryl was not.

Carol wasn’t the best judge of character, just look at the turd she’d married.

“You did more for my little girl that day than her own daddy ever did in his whole li—”

—A steady knocking sounded at the door, breaking up the echoes of Carol’s words and setting Daryl on edge.

Yup, it was Y/N’s knocking, no mistaking it.

“Just open it!” was the loudest he’d spoken all day. He just didn’t want to be around people, was that such a big ask?

There was a pause before he heard the door open a crack.

“Would you prefer to be left alone awhile longer?” his friend asked softly.

The annoyance Daryl had felt eased and drained off.His whisper was hopefully loud enough for Y/N to hear. “What is it?”

After another pause, whatever they said in response was real quiet and blocked by the door. All Daryl heard was “Red furseh?”

“Y/N, y’can just come in,” he relented. He even bothered to turn toward the door for them, except, his friend hadn’t opened it up yet.

“A-Are you decent?”

Am I…what, did they think he had his hand down his pants? “Yes.”

He watched as the door opened and Y/N (nervously?) looked at him, eyes flitting down along the bedsheet.

Goddamn, his friend really did just worry he had his hand down his pants, didn’t they?

“Are you ready for seconds?” Y/N repeated, relaxing.

Got it, that’s what they’d been asking from the doorway.

Daryl responded by way of a gruff, soft, “Nah.”

Another pause.“Do you feel sick? Or are you,” they tilted their head and frowned again, “‘wallowing’ ain’t the right word — are you beatin’ yourself up, Daryl?”

Yes, somebody has to. “What do you want?” If Y/N could not hit the nail on the head right now, that would be great. He had a bandage on it, after all…

“I’m-I’m asking ’cause the symptoms are usually the same, I mean,” his friend started walking toward the bed as if they was hesitant to do it, “you ain’t even touched your plate, your voice is — for real, sugar, d’you feel sick, depressed, or both?” Saying this, they laid their wrist against his forehead.

“Careful, I got a bandage!” was stupid of Daryl to grunt, because it was coming off tomorrow morning and because Y/N was careful, but he grunted it anyway. Why’d they need to use that pet name??

“There were a whole lot of ways you could have contracted yourself an infection, and, well, y-your shirt is off. Ain’t never seen you do that, um…” They inhaled, then exhaled slowly, and pulled their wrist away. “You are kinda warm, but it is warm in here. Really warm, actually, um, d’you want the window open more?”

Yes, please. “M’fine.” He shifted back onto his side and resumed staring into space.

“Let me do somethin’ for you before I go,” Y/N gently insisted. “Please.” They put a soothing-type tone on. Normally, a tone like that would cause him to feel belittled or pitied, but…he didn’t know, maybe after this week he was used to it. And, he didn’t know, maybe pity wasn’t such a bad thing.

“First, would you like a shirt, or are you good?” his friend asked.

‘Would he like a shirt,’ hell yes, he would like a shirt.

The tugging sensation in his chest came back for a sec. Y/N had a knack for hitting the nail on the head with him. And while the offer was both innocent and loaded, he started to feel as if his soul had been stripped bare-naked in front of them again.

The fact that he’d even let them see his back had been a lapse, a huge lapse. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking.

But, if right now he didn’t act like it was the worst thing, he hated hated hated people seeing, nobody was supposed to see, weren’t nobody’s damn business! a big deal, it wouldn’t be, right?

Which is why Daryl decided to make no effort to cover up more at that moment, so that nothing would seem off. It made his skin crawl to not, it made him feel cornered, but he left the sheet where it was and decided to kick them out.

Yet, strangely, instead of hoarsely grunting at them to 'leave him be' like he thought he was about to, he softly admitted, “Yeah.”

Y/N grabbed the clean, folded shirt and pants that Lori had brought and placed it beside him.“Here’s your pants, too, make it easier in the morning when you get discharged. Miss Patricia will come in and you’ll be all ready!” A nod at his untouched meal. “Want the plate to stay, or go?”

“Take it.”

“Positive? Carol, Lori, and Patricia went ham cookin’ the food. Literally, they cooked some salt ham, but there’s also a little of the fish left that Andy caught for me, if you’d prefer?” They tried to entice him more. “The green beans are fresh, the veggie casserole is creamy, and the mashed taters got fresh butter in ’em? There’s whiteand brown gravy…”

The thought of eating was tempting as hell, he’d give it that. He was hungry and it smelled amazing. Still, he shook his head. The thought of putting a bite in his mouth made him feel sick.

Y/N looked a little disappointed, but accepted his decision with a tiny, forced smile. After a beat, their smile turned real. “You’ll get awarded MVP for not touchin’ your plate tonight,” they teased. “It’ll get shared well. I don’t reckon there’ll be crumbs left at the rate we’re hoovering it all down, I-I accidentally already had thirds. But, um,” they added, biting their lip. “Dare, in a little while, please might can I bring you a bowl of dessert, in the least? You must be terrible hungry by now and you need to eat if you’re gonna heal, hon.”

He just sorta stared back, didn’t know what to answer yet. Them using a pet-name again wasn’t helping none.

This was no problem for Y/N, who seemed to have begun nervous-jabbering. “When I told Jimmy there was dessert, his eyes got all big. I’m not gonna lie, it was so darn cute. But I didn’t ruin the surprise and tell him what it is, I just winked and let him imagine. Do you wanna know what it is?”

His cheeks warmed. “What is it,” Daryl dutifully responded.

“It’s a surprise!” was the completely expected answer. Y/N looked very pleased. “But it involves hand-whipped cream,” they sing-songed.

___________________________

You

___________________________

You haven’t seen anyone’s mood here drop as low as Daryl’s has in the past few days, not since Andrea’s did after Amy died. Not even Shane after what happened to Otis, he’s handling the pain differently.

But just now when you enticed Daryl with the notion of whipped cream, he almost smiled, you saw it!

Victory!

And, before you went to Daryl’s room to see if he wanted more, you’d walked over to the big table and whispered in Shane’s ear that when dessert was served, he should wake Carl to give him a bowl and get “cool uncle points,” and he smiled, too!

Victory!

Why do you feel like you are personally responsible for holding everyone’s shit together?

Like, even at the dinner, after you’d burst out laughing, it felt so good to have eased the tension in the room, even if by accident. Then, when you heard the laughter dying down and the room going quiet again, you felt as if you’d just failed. So, you had to fix it.

Cue you to shove a big bite into your mouth and loudly moan about how good it was in the hopes that saying so would keep the momentum going. And prompt Hershel to accept your people, change his mind, keep your family safe, and keep everyone together because what if you aren’t trying hard enough or doing it the right way and things fall apart? Who’s fault will it be? Why does your stupid hand feel like Amy’s blood is on it again? Dale already explained how it’s ‘self-reproach because of survivor’s guilt,’ so why can’t you shake it off?

Okay, chill out, it’s not all on you. You’re not responsible, you cannot control and fix it all, it’s not all on you.

Surrender it up, and trust.

Offer it up and trust…

Thankfully, Theodore had joined in with your noise of appreciation, declaring, “I second that, mmm-mm!”

Good Moses, you could’ve legit knelt down and pledged him your fealty (or whatever it is squires did for knights in shining armor).

Heck, you were tempted to ignore the age difference and propose marriage to him instead, you were that relieved that he’d gone with it, because it prompted those at the big table to join.

Shane was right there for you, too. “This meal is hittin’ all the marks,” he quietly praised, “ain’t had grub this good in a while.”

Then there was a toast (thank you, Ricky and T-Dog), and things stayed fairly light after that. Light and comfortable.

And only during your last bite, when you noticed everyone else had seconds (…or thirds…), was it that you scrambled off, mid-chew, to Daryl’s room to see what he wanted for seconds and maybe convince him to join everyone.

Instead, you were met with an untouched plate and a man who’s voice could barely raise above a gruff whisper. So, you had to try and fix it, obviously, even if the only thing that would actually fix it is finding the little girl who everyone’s hearts have already mourned.

“Wha’ was so funny earlier?” Daryl just surprised you by asking.

You snort. “We were tryin’ to see who’d break first and laugh — this is at the kiddie table, by the way.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

“Psht,” you play-grumble. “But yeah, I lost the game big time.I’d just taken a very impolite sized-bite of food, too. Ain’t never swallowed a bite that big in my entire life, but I didn’t want to snarf in front of everyone!” Way to overshare, weirdo. “Oh, right, you’ll probably want to know the joke,” you remember. You can get scatterbrained when you’re carrying on. “What’s a pirate’s favorite letter?”

“A pirate’s what?”

“Favorite letter.”

“A pirate’s favorite…” Daryl makes a low, soft hum as he exhales. “Didn’t, uh, wasn’t most pirates illiterate?”

“Bro.”

“I dunno, um, the…P,” is the gem he comes up with.

Bless his heart, has Daryl never heard the ‘arrr’ joke before?

“Why a P?” you’ve simply gotta know.

“P…P for pirate, and peg-leg and um, eye-patch, and, the uh, they got parrots. That’s a lotta Ps.”

The immediate gut reaction you have is the strong desire to gasp with delight and smooch him square on the lips WHAT THE, why did his answer turn you on? Oopsy lol, yeah, gross, no way. You meant to say, um, ah,…?!?

Anyway, you unfortunately end up squealing, “Oh Lord, that was hot.”

It’s fine, you slip in a ‘dude’ right after. “C’mon, dude, what do pirates say? Like the, the sound they make in movies and books?”

“I don’t, uh…Yo-ho…ho?”

That’s now you, belly-laughing, even as it makes your stitches pinch more. “No, the noise they make, like, when they’re mad or tryin’ act all scary.”

Hold the darn phone, is he — good Moses in heaven with the angels and saints, Daryl Dixon is blushing.

He’s gone from plain to red splotches on his cheeks, it’s visible even in the low lighting. The inconvenient butterflies start fluttering around in your stomach again, but this is such an unexpected treat, who cares? Ha!

“No way you’re turnin’ red, nerd,” you whisper.

“Stop,” he grunts in his way, and his eyes are crinkled and his mouth is threatening to grin.

A pleasing shiver travels down when you scrunch your pointer finger into a hook. “Arrr,” you enunciate with spot-on cartoonish flair, if you say so yourself.

His eyes shut when the punchline hits him. “Sonofa—it’s R, then?”

Hot damn, is this joke satisfying. “R? Nay nay, boy, ’tis the C!”

___________________________

Him

___________________________

That he’d gone from wishing he were left for dead in a ditch to laughing out loud in the few minutes his friend was in the room with him…Y/N was something else.

A weirdo, too.

The dessert was ambrosia, by the way, Y/N eventually came back into the room with two bowls of it. “Ambrosia” was a loose term; it didn’t have none of the usual stuff but for the pecans and cream dressing.

“It’s peach, raspberry, wild blueberry and pecan ambrosia with hand-whipped cream — Glenn won’t even know to miss the marshmallows!” Y/N had chirped.

Him telling them it was “knockoff ambrosia” (as a joke) only lead to them pursing their lips, snorting, then immediately going back to happily twittering on how: “Lori hand-whipped it to make it extra special, and Carol added a mite bit of buttermilk to get the tang it needs. Can’t wait to taste how it came out…”

Their little food dance as they took the first bite was cute.

And shiiit, the little moan they made as they shut their eyes and tilted their head back shouldn’t have been enough to turn his thoughts sexual, but yeahhh did it. The cabin fever was apparently messing with his dick, too, great. But why did they say something he did was “hot?” Was it slang for something else, other than what he knew it meant?

“Dare, what do you think?” Another moaned hum. When Y/N opened their eyes, they saw that he hadn’t tasted any. “Oh, Daryl, c’mon and try some? It’s heavenly. I think I’m dyin’, it’s so yummy.”

Nah. As good as Y/N was making it seem, he couldn’t, and so, shook his head.

But then his friend said something that, weird as it was, for some reason hit the nail on the head for him once more. It was as if there Y/N was, seeing his soul bare-naked again.

“If I were your confessor,” they began so casual-like, “other than explaining how accidental injury ain’t sinful, I’d tell you your penance was to eat what’s in front of you.”

Y/N almost took another bite as if in example, but hesitated before the spoon reached their lips. The light expression they wore dimmed and turned serious. “All you’ve gone through this week isn’t divine justice, that ain’t how God operates. It was an accident. Just like Sophia. It, it wasn’t no test or punishment what happened to her. It was just a… a bad thing,” they hushed, eyes fixed on their bowl, spoon. With an empty half-laugh, they mumbled, “Suddenly can’t stand the thought of food, now, neither.”

With that, Y/N put the bowl to the side and didn’t seem to know what to do next other than maybe cry, by the look of them.

Daryl would’ve missed it if he’d gone back to spacing out and wallowing, but from the corner of his eye he noticed them wipe their palm on their knee a few times as if to dry it off.

He recognized what was going on, or was pretty sure, anyway.

After Amy got killed, Y/N had this messed up thing go on with the hand, the one they’d used to try and stop her from bleeding out with. For a few days, it felt to them as if Amy’s blood was still on it and wouldn’t clean off.

Back when Sophia first went missing, he noticed their hand thing came back a little that first afternoon.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s clean.”

“What is?”

“Yer hand.”

They took an extra beat to respond. “I-I know. It’s dumb.”

“It’s clean,” he repeated, which resulted in Y/N bowing their head. “Ain’t nothing there, Y/N. Lemme see?”

His friend lifted their head back up, raised their hand for him, and shrugged. “Dale says it’s a guilt thing.”

Yeah, he could see that.

“It's not on you to fix everyone’s everything,” he needed to say. Y/N seemed like they didn’t remember that sometimes.

“Ayy, way to come at me with a hammer,” his friend answered with a dry smile. “I know I can’t fix everyone’s stuff,” they spoke carefully, their throat sounded tight. “But we’re called to help, right? After how far things have fallen, we’re called even more now to, to bring, you know, that, that light, to do what we can. And, and,” they stuttered, then took a deep breath. “I dunno. Before all this—did you ever feel like your life was stagnant? Like you was just existing?”

Did Y/N know how well they could hit the nail on the head?

Yes, Daryl felt like his was stagnant, it fucking was, he was a nobody! Didn’t do shit with his life, he’d just…rotted, and fixed up bikes in whatever direction his brother drifted. “Yeah.”

“That’s how I was was for years, too. Kinda floated one day after another, just tryin’ to make it to the next.”

Daryl stayed quiet. Yet again, they’d hit the nail on the goddamned head and he wanted Y/N to keep on talking.

And Y/N did, they kept chatting very matter-of-fact. “It got better, ev-eventually, I um, I got help, and then started forcin’ myself to do stuff, get out in the community, all that. Healed a bit.” They swirled their spoon around the bowl. “It didn’t fix everything boom, like: I still felt stagnant a lot, or like a failure, or that things were all my fault, still sometimes wanted to die,” they shared with a shrug, very chill. “But that’s why we can’t rely on feelings, right?”

The invisible string was tugging Daryl’s whole damn torso toward them at this point and he just wanted to hold them and — shit, sorry, um, he wanted to pat ’em on the back, at least.

“Really, it was when the, um,” his friend bit their lip. “This is gonna sound weird.”

“Prolly, if it’s you we’re talkin’ about,” he ribbed, completely dead-pan.

His friend liked it, and even taunted back all goofy, “sure is, betch,” before their smile fell away. After a beat, Y/N quietly, quietly told him the rest. “It was when the…outbreaks happened, that I-I didn’t have to force it anymore. There was suddenly such a, a, a clear duty, clear sense of purpose, I dunno. Just—so much to do, so much to live for, and,” a big exhale, “so much work to be done.”

That explained a lot. Y/N tended to go hard, burn the candle at both ends, if that’s the right phrase.

In fact, he flat-out said so. “Is that why you push too damn hard to be ‘useful?’”

“Again with the hammer, dude. And, no, it’s—” Y/N found their words. “When you think how w-we, we might could get killed, at any second, any one of us. And how we’ll look back on it all, all our choices, and then answer what we did ‘for the least here on earth’…”

Ah, that checked out, too.

It was something, to see someone still believe in all that stuff after the world fucking ended, he’d give it that.

He used to, too, not that he’d been any good at it.

Didn’t matter, he didn’t anymore. Not after the dead started walking.

“Now, before Teddy materializes in here to scold me, I get that ‘It’s not through our own efforts.’ And the problem I have with feelin’ worthless is a separate issue my faith helps tackle. Now, I know it ain’t about racking up works of mercy or nothin’, but, dude—there’s so much work to do! And I want to do as much as —” Y/N shook their head a few times as if shaking out of it. “Sorry, I-I’ma just quit while I’m ahead, here. Oversharing Olympics.”

“Mm.” Hey, it was. “But that’s part of the deal with friends, right?” he murmured while trying to think of a good way to razz on them. “Means you trust ’em.” Y/N tended to make light about everything, so a tease would do ’em good, right? “It, like, Sunday or somethin’, preacher?”

The tease might’ve missed the mark that time, if he was seeing it correctly.

“Friday,” was all his friend mumbled back, and looked embarrassed as shit. The forced smile they offered in return — it made Daryl’s side ache more, somehow. And the way Y/N then sat there, curling their feet in and looking as if they felt…just about as small as Daryl did?

It was as if the invisible knee to the nards was connected to the invisible tugging string on his chest, because while that knee to the nards got him good, he felt that strange string tug toward Y/N big-time.

It was next, when Y/N stood up and moved to take the dishes out, that something very forceful moved in Daryl that had him sitting himself upright (sort of upright) and reaching for his bowl and spoon (oww) before his friend could get to it.

“It’s still good without the cherries and the marshmallows?”

His friend blinked. “Th-there are some, uh, it’s technically got those mini freeze-dried ones, as an extra-surprise.” They tilted their head, squinting at him in a way not unlike how Rick squinted at shit. “The Greene’s had some hot chocolate packets in the back of the pantry, we separated the marshmallows out.”

“That’s a lot of work,” Daryl commented, scooping a spoonful. Looked real pinkish because of the raspberries.

Y/N next twisted their mouth and almost seemed shy, when they realized what he was about to do. “Eh, it was worth it.”

It made Daryl feel good, seeing them spark up like that. And their shy smile was damn cute, as always.

“Oh, here, try mine if you’re only havin’ a bite,” Y/N asked, holding out their own bowl to him.

“Nah, m’gonna do the whole thing. It being penance and all,” he grunted, then waved his spoon at them. “You, too, go on. Do your penance.”

“My penance?”

“Yeah.” Oh goddamn, the stuff was delicious. “Have a seat, eat up.”

His friend settled on the side of the bed, still looking as if he’d caught them off-guard. They watched him eat for a few moments, and, Daryl had a random, unusual worry that he was eating too sloppy. But holy shit, fresh fruit and whipped cream!

He glanced over mid-scarfing to see Y/N nibbling on (no lie) half a pecan.

“Quit playing with yer food.”

This earned him a small huff and a “I’m savorin’ it.”

“White lies cost a quarter, remember.”

The amount of attitude Y/N next put into their next (and normal-sized) bite was funny. “I’b also sduffed a’ready, banjy hick,” they added with their mouth full.

Don’t smile too big, Daryl. “Penance is penance.”

“But pedaces ca be cobooted.”

Don’t smile too big! “They can be what?”

Y/N apologized, swallowed their food and their giggle, and repeated: “Penances can be commuted.”

“They can travel to work?” was his idea of a dumb joke, and this time it did the trick and he made them burst out laughing a second time.

Y/N broke into a laugh so hard they hinged forward and caused some of the cream dressing to get onto their shirt right before their spoon clattered to the floor.

“Laughing like that still hurts, you butt,” his friend wheezed, pressing their arm to their stitched-up side. They coughed a few times, still giggling, and when they thudded their chest a few times they winced. “Ow, bruise. And Lore just washed this top, too.” Another snort. “My fault for bein’ a sucker for dumb jokes, I guess. ”

“Ain’t nobody’s fault, just an accident,” he got the immediate urge to tell them.

In response, Y/N looked at him with an expression he wasn’t sure how to read, but it wasn’t a bad expression. Then, because that expression made his stomach do more flippy-floppies, Daryl gestured to their bowl again, and Y/N dutifully took another spoonful.

“Dis is so gub,” they hummed softly after taking the bite.

“Damned tasty for knockoff ambrosia,” he had to admit, joining along with another scoop of that damned tasty knockoff ambrosia.

“Do’d even deed dehbigger barshballows.”

Y/N was so fucking cute sometimes. “Or cherries.” He loved the cherries the best, after the marshmallows.

Y/N swallowed their bite.“Or the mandarins.”

“Or the pineapple.” His third favorite part.

“Oh, or the coconut,” Y/N realized, then thought out loud, “Shucks, this is a ‘knockoff.’”

“Tasty knockoff, I’d eat it again in a heartbeat,” Daryl murmured. He couldn’t believe his bowl was already empty. “Y/N, you just say ‘shucks?’”

“Shut up.” His friend play-grumbled. “Y’know, Daryl, this is prolly one of the top five penances I’ve ever gotten.”

“Top five?”

“One time I got ‘buy yourself something nice that you’ll get good use from. It’s okay if it’s a little expensive, it’s okay if it’s a little frivolous.’ Almost a direct quote, that. I’d been bein’ too, um,” they cleared their throat, “the priest thought I was a bit too hard on myself.”

Daryl knew whatever came next had to be something good, based on his friend’s playful little grin.

“That’s how I bought me the PS3. Pre-owned, so it was a solid deal, and it got real good use.” And with a wistful sounding exhale, they finished, “I miss that thing.” Y/N wiggled their bowl at him. “Please help me with this?”

Daryl’s mouth watered. The stuff tasted so good. Fresh, creamy, sweet, tangy.

Y/N raised their eyebrows at him and smiled.

“If I gotta,” he grunted back.

“Thanks for the assist. Plus, it’s penance.”

“Mm, guess I have to." Oh yeah, big scoop. "If it’s penance.”

------------------------------------------

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