#by the way how old is Carl supposed to be

[celtic-crossbow]

Blood Ties Chapter 29

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Slightly graphic depictions of labor and childbirth A/N: Maybe a cliffhanger. Maybe not. You'll have to read to find out! ;) Daryl is definitely ooc in this. I'm sorry, I tried to get as close as I could to how he might react. Also, the saying he uses is one we use in the south that means "how is that relevant?" You'll know it when you read it, lol.

“About 4cm now. Progressing nicely.” Hershel informed, wiping his hands on a cloth that Carol had provided. 

Rick and T-Dog were out doing yet another night run in the van. It was also low on fuel but the map showed another town close by. Fuel, gloves, and other necessities were on the list. Glenn was on watch with Daryl for backup if anything happened. It wasn’t an ideal situation but it couldn’t be helped.

Thumper was calling the shots at that point. 

Before the men had left, Daryl had confiscated all the blankets except for those that were for Lori and Carl. When Glenn began to complain, one look from the anxiety-driven archer had brought the young man very close to hiding behind Rick. While some blankets were used for your comfort, others were fashioned into a tent-like structure over the bare branches of a decently sized bush. You needed some sense of privacy. 

Carol and Lori had dug through the maternity clothes that hadn’t been lost on the road and found a button up dress. It was comfortable and made things much easier than leggings. 

After your immediate needs had been met, Daryl then perched himself just beside your shoulder and hadn’t moved since. 

“S’the number we’re aimin’ for?” He asked with frustration lacing his tone, making sure the blankets were back over you and tucked tight to keep you warm. He had been muttering to himself how he wished he had made time to read the rest of the books. Daryl was not a man that liked being in the dark on anything. It made him feel helpless, as you had learned over the last several months. 

“She needs to be at 10cm and the baby needs to be in the correct position before she can push.” The old man positioned the ear tubes of the stethoscope before pressing it against several spots on your belly. “Heart beat is strong. Everything is looking good.”

You had remained quiet until that moment. “Do I just—I don’t know—lay here?”

“Walking encourages the cervix to dilate and soften. Once you dilate a little further, the contractions will likely be stronger, whether painful or not.” The calmness that man practiced really made you want to strangle him with that stethoscope. “Make sure you don’t go alone, and—”

“She ain’t.” Daryl snapped. 

Hershel shot him an admonishing look. “As I was saying, take breaks. Sleep when you can. I’ll check you periodically. You’ll need to keep timing the contractions, son.” Daryl nodded. “Sip small amounts of water, no food. Keep me informed of any changes. And as unpleasant as it may sound, if you feel the pressure and urge as if you may need to have a bowel movement, call for me immediately.”

You, as well as Daryl, reared back, lips curling. 

“The fuck that gotta do with the price’a fish?” The archer queried, not so nicely. 

“Settle down. The pressure from the baby’s head moving into the birth canal can feel similar to that.” Shaking his head, Hershel shuffled his way out of your tiny tent. 

Finally alone, you turned onto your side and scooted your upper body toward Daryl. He stretched out his legs so you could rest on his thigh. 

“Get some rest.” His hand wiggled beneath the blanket and rubbed up and down the length of your upper arm, but moved to your belly when another contraction took over. Without prompting, he slid his warm palm around to your lower back and applied the least bit of pressure, rubbing small circles. You buried your face into his thigh to ride it out, but you had to admit the light massaging helped, if only a little. 

“You’re supposed to be—” You were panting when you rolled your head to remind him, but found the watch already lifted to eye level, his gaze shifting from it to your stomach. 

“Sleep if ya can. I got this.” His brow was furrowed in concentration, your heart swelling and warm. Any worry you had entertained of him running when things got real, just gone in an instant. He was there. He was there. 

“I’ll try.” You whispered, the pain finally an afterthought. You felt him slide his hand back to the side of your stomach before you let yourself succumb to exhaustion. 

“Sorry, Sunshine. Doc says up, so up ya get.”

You let Daryl take your dead weight and pull you up by a grip beneath your arms, making it as difficult as possible so you might get to stay in your warm little nest. You were still at 4cm. Hershel had said you had to start walking to help labor progress. 

“This isn’t fair.” You whined, rubbing your back once you were upright. The pain that accompanied each contraction had lessened but was still ever present. “Can’t you walk and I dilate?”

Daryl snorted. “Don’t think that’s how it works.” He placed a careful hand on the small of your back and kept your pace, slow as it was. 

“Okay, then how about if it gets worse, I kick you in the balls and punch you in the kidneys so you can participate properly?” You were only half joking. 

“If it gets ya through this, I guess.” The archer shrugged. You regarded him with a skeptical brow arched. 

“You’d really let me do that?”

“Hell nah, but s’the thought that counts or some shit like that, right?” He didn’t even try to dodge the smack you aimed at his shoulder. 

“You’re hilarious.” You deadpanned, even as you leaned into him while you strolled in circles around the perimeter. The moonlight caught the watch in his right hand, his finger tapping against the casing. Bless him, he was taking his role of supportive partner very seriously. You gasped when the next contraction came, stopping to bend slightly and breathe through it while Daryl secured an arm around you and flipped open the watch. 

When it was clear you weren’t falling, he slid his hand to the middle of your back and massaged the length of your spine using gentle pressure from the heel of his palm. He never said much—if anything—during the episodes themselves, but kept you informed of the timing of each one. 

“Oh, goddamnit, this one sucks.” You managed through clenched teeth. You swayed slightly when it was over, grasping blindly for the man next to you. 

“Thirteen minutes since the last’un. A minute, twelve.” He was slow and careful when turning you back toward camp. “Let’s getcha back to Hershel.” 

You shook your head. “One last loop, then we can go back.” Daryl didn’t say anything but you felt him tense. “I’m sure. They’re just getting a little more painful in the stomach, less in the back.” 

He still hesitated. “Alright. One more.”

Hershel stepped into your path before you started the second loop, allowing Daryl to fill him in on the last contraction. 

“Do one more. Rest. And then again.” The old man ordered curtly. 

Once he had vanished back toward the small fire, you mocked his words. “Rest and then again.” Daryl shook his head beside you. “I mean seriously, how much help can walking actually be?”

“Fuuuuuck!” You were digging your fingers into the blankets below you, swatting away Carol’s hand when she tried to dab your face with a piece of cloth. Daryl was sitting beside you, wide-eyed and lost, the watch forgotten by his leg. Hershel was between your knees, sporting his medical gloves that had been brought back by Rick and T-Dog. 

The archer cleared his throat. “She alright?” 

“Do I look alright, Daryl?!” You hissed, making an admirable attempt at breathing the way Carol was instructing. The contraction finally ended and you fell back onto the folded blankets. “I’m sorry.” You found his worried blue eyes easily and fumbled for his hand. 

“S’okay.” He whispered, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. 

“She’s at 6cm. We can still time the contractions but I think she may need your attention more than that watch does now.” Hershel reached for the item and placed it in his pocket once Daryl handed it over. “Keep moving but stay closer, no more perimeter walks.”

Daryl nodded, you whimpered. 

“I’ll be back soon to check again. If we’re lucky, things will move a little faster now that you’re in active labor.” Hershel left the tent while Carol fixed your dress. 

“I know it hurts, but you two will have little Thumper in your arms in just a matter of hours.” She smoothed your hair and tucked it behind your ears. “You’re doing great.”

“I don’t feel like I’m doing great.” You murmured, ducking your head almost bashfully. “I’m really sorry I snapped at you, Daryl. It just—well, it hurts and it’s hard to think.”

“Ain’t mad.” He tried for a half smile but it was weak. “Better than gettin’ kicked in the balls, I reckon.” You laughed and squeezed his hand. “Guess we oughtta getcha up again.”

“I’ll help.” Carol offered. You could see that a refusal was on the tip of Daryl’s tongue but he never voiced it. With Carol under one arm and Daryl under the other, you were pulled upright. 

Your body already felt wrung out and sore, and the epic finale hadn’t even begun. Still, you allowed Carol to pass you off to Daryl. 

“We movin’ on? Be better to find a house or somethin’.” He looped an arm around your back, following as you shuffled your way around. 

Carol shrugged, not touching you but keeping up with your small strides. “Both vehicles have fuel but Hershel isn’t sure we should move her. He thinks the baby will come soon and she needs to be kept in one place.”

You groaned, letting your head fall back in frustration. “She is right here. And if my opinion matters, I’d rather not—” The contraction came on strong, halting you suddenly with your hand fisting into the lower part of Daryl’s vest. The archer stepped around in front of you, rough but gentle hands grasping your wrists to guide your arms to his shoulders. 

“Try to breathe. Sometimes humming or even moaning helps, like an outlet.” Carol advised while rubbing your back. 

Your head fell forward against Daryl’s chest, a deep but quiet moan muffled against the firm muscle beyond his shirt. His hands had fallen to your hips, his body followed you as you swayed back and forth. The episodes were growing more intense, coming closer together and lasting longer. It wasn’t difficult to surmise that things would be growing more difficult to handle. 

“Ain’t nothin’ we can do for ‘er?” Daryl asked quietly above you, each word blowing his warm breath over the top of your head. Carol must have answered in the negative because his fingers flexed against your hips. 

The skin of your belly was pulled so tightly that you swore it would tear open, the muscles feeling as if they would pulse right out of the gaping hole your torn flesh would leave. 

“Shit.” You whimpered, your voice finding its way back during the last dregs of pain. You almost didn’t register warm hands gliding up and down your sides, a smaller hand on your back. “I don’t want to have the baby here.” You argued weakly. “It’s too open. Things will be too chaotic, too loud.”

“I know, Sunshine, but the doc says—”

“I don’t want to risk Thumper here in the open, Daryl. With—with walkers or people.” With enough strength having returned after the pain, you lifted your head, eyes pleading. “Please.”

The archer was visibly upset. He was just as vulnerable as you were at that moment, torn between what he felt was right and what Hershel said was for the best. His tongue wet his bottom lip before he pulled it in between his teeth, looking to Carol for guidance. 

“Could lay down the seats in the van. Use the back.” He suggested. “Plenty’a room an’ if we need to move fast—”

“I don’t think that’s unreasonable.” Carol agreed, rubbing your back in a few soft strokes before beginning to move away. “I’ll go talk to Hershel. You two keep walking.”

You watched her go, turning your gaze up to Daryl when he shifted back to your side to urge you along. “Gotta keep movin’.” You groaned, dragging your feet with your head falling back in frustration. 

You were in the middle of a contraction, when you heard it. A snarl, a raspy growl much too close. You were already clinging to Daryl and breathing through the pain that was readying your body for Thumper’s arrival, but you’d have to let him go. He had to protect the baby. And to do that, he had to protect you. 

But he didn’t move. He was nearly vibrating, rigid beneath your hands on his shoulders. He was just as scared as you were, even more so. He knew he could take the walker but that would mean letting you go. He needed to protect you but he wanted to support you. He had told you he'd never let you fall and you knew he had meant it.

“Go.” Your hands slid from his shoulders, down his chest before they released him completely to clutch your belly.

His boots disappeared from your view of the ground but you couldn’t focus after that. The pain was growing in intensity, immobilizing you with your lips tightly pressed to withhold the cries that vibrated behind your teeth for release. You couldn’t, you just couldn’t make a sound. You’d attract more, endanger everyone. You’d endanger Thumper. Daryl. 

There were scuffles. More snarls. Tears were threatening your waterline. Pain was coursing through you like a serpent, slithering around each muscle and tendon and pulling them tight. You felt disappointment and guilt over all the agony when your mouth fell open with a guttural moan, your will to cut off the scream that begged to follow barely holding true. 

“D—Daryl.” You cried out. And he was there, hands on your face, your biceps, your belly. 

“M’here. M’here. Gotta move, though.” He swept you up with the slightest strained noise. “Gonna getcha to the van. Gonna find somewhere safe for ya.” The pain was fading. You could focus on the dark blood on his face, the dirt and grime. 

“Herd?” You whispered. 

“Ain’t your fault.” His expression emanated fear and stress. “The hatch.” Someone was with him. The small hands that opened the back of the van and spread out the blankets, those were Carol’s. She sat a pile of smaller blankets and squares of fabric toward the indents on the floor where the seats had been stowed. 

“Get as many in the truck as you can! In the cab and the bed!” Rick was calling out at the same time that Hershel climbed into the van. Daryl was careful when he placed you inside, climbing over you before pulling you further in to make room for Hershel and Carol. 

Through your haze of exhaustion, you saw Rick climb in the driver's seat and Maggie beside him. That meant that five others had to somehow fit into the truck. 

“Is everyone okay?” You asked, eyes pleading with Daryl for an honest answer. 

“Yeah, they’re all good.” He nodded, smoothing a hand over your hair. 

The van was moving, though you didn’t realize when it had started. Hershel was between your knees when another contraction came. It felt like only moments had passed since the last one. In the safety of the van, though you couldn’t be bothered to consider that, you bowed forward with a scream. Daryl gingerly worked your fingers loose from the blanket to take your hand. 

“She’s at 9cm. This baby is coming soon.” Hershel didn’t move this time, he and Carol began sorting things that you couldn’t see. Panting, you leaned to the side, knowing Daryl would be there. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and squeezed. 

“What—” He swallowed audibly. “Tell me what I need to do.” 

“Just be with her.” Carol poured some water from a bottle onto a piece of fabric and passed it across you for Daryl to take. “Wipe her face, put it behind her neck.”

The archer’s hand was trembling fiercely when you felt the blessed cool cloth touch your forehead. The moan that left you was not one of pain but utter relief. “Oh, that’s nice.” You breathed. Your skin was on fire, every cell of your being felt twisted and wrong. But that trembling cloth wiping at your face grounded you, centered you around what your body was preparing to do. 

You were so close to being a mother. 

But that didn’t stop the scream that ripped from your throat when the next contraction tore through you. You sat up, propped on your elbows with your eyes screwed shut. Tears leaked from the corners, the wailing cutting off into wretched sobs when you felt Daryl’s forehead fall against the crown of your head, his mantra of m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry shattering you into a million shards. 

You couldn’t tell him it was okay. You couldn’t remind him why you hurt. You couldn’t reassure him that he was the one you wanted and you were more than happy to do this with him. For him. You didn’t have the breath. 

“Don’t push, Y/N. Not yet.” Hershel’s tone was even but not cruel, his gloved hands on your knees. 

“It fucking burns!” You shrieked, squeezing Daryl’s hand until you were certain you felt the bones shift. The contraction let up, the fiery sensation dulling but ever present. 

“What’s happenin’?” Daryl sounded breathless. Terrified. You were still catching your breath when you looked up at him. His tan skin was white as a sheet, no color in his lips. His blue eyes were brighter than you’d ever seen them. From tears or fear, you couldn’t be sure. 

“The baby’s in the right position. Y/N, it’ll be time to push soon. It’ll be very important for you to listen to everything I say. Can you do that?” Hershel wasn’t looking at you, between moving around things Carol was handing to him and keeping a constant eye on your progress. Distantly, you wondered why it was Carol at his side and not Maggie. Maybe because you were close with Carol? For your comfort? 

“Yeah. Yeah, I can.” You turned your attention back to Daryl when his grip on your hand loosened slightly. He swayed, the pallor of his skin growing more concerning. “Daryl?”

The archer shook his head almost violently. “M’good.”

“Okay, I just—oh, fuck, already!?” You grit your teeth as your stomach tightened, a visible shift beneath the fabric of your dress. 

“Maggie, can you climb back here?” Hershel requested calmly. His eldest said nothing but maneuvered her way into the back and on your opposite side. “I fear we may lose Daryl at any moment and Y/N will need support.”

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Daryl snapped but it was a weak effort. He inhaled deeply and began squeezing your hand to keep you from dislocating his fingers. 

“Here.” Carol passed him an opened bottle of water. “Drink a few sips. You’re white as a ghost.”

You were barely aware of everything happening around you, shaking almost violently to refrain from bearing down until Hershel told you to do so. It was bordering on excruciating. 

“Jesus Christ, it feels like you’re holding a flamethrower to my fucking pussy!” 

Hershel sighed while Maggie and Carol chuckled and Daryl snorted out a quiet nice, Y/N. 

“It’s just the birth canal stretching to make room for the baby.” The veterinarian explained coolly. 

“Just?” You mocked. “Just, he says while it’s my—oh Jesus fuck!” With all the presence of mind you could summon, you managed not to start screaming at Daryl for putting you in that position. You knew that beyond the pain and fear, you wanted Thumper in your arms more than anything in that fucked up world. 

“Okay, Y/N,” Hershel patted your bare knees just at the tail end of the contraction to ensure he had your attention. You had fallen back against Maggie while Daryl held the cool cloth against the back of your neck. His hand was vibrating your skull to the point that you nearly asked him to move away. “You’re ready. On the next contraction, you need to push.”

“God, your calm voice makes me want to kick you in the teeth.” You didn’t mean it—mostly. Hershel must have known that because he chuckled. You could feel the next contraction already building when the van lurched to a stop, throwing everyone in it. 

“We got a herd in front of us!” Rick called from the front. 

“Go ‘round it! Turn ‘round! Just keep ‘em off us!” Daryl yelled as the pain peaked. “Fuck!” He bellowed when your hand began to shake with how hard you squeezed his own. 

“Push!” Hershel shouted over the bumps and jerks of the van doing whatever Rick had deemed best. “Good, good!” He began to countdown from ten while you screamed.

You were being torn open. Thumper was going to rip you in half on their way out. Your throat was raw, surely bleeding from your wails. When the old man reached one, you fell back against Maggie but Daryl’s hand was there too. 

“Maggie, Daryl, hold behind her knees. Help support her legs. It’ll keep her hips open.” Both moved forward, taking you with them to sit you up a little straighter. Daryl had to release your hand to hold you and your leg. The archer hissed with the pressure against his abused palm. “Perfect. Alright, Y/N. A nice, strong push this time.”

You almost snarled. “Last one wasn’t good enough?”

“Easy, Sunshine.” You felt Daryl's lips against your temple and yearned to keep them there. 

“I’m sorry, Hershel.” Once again, the man simply smiled. Lori had told you that childbirth in the movies was often dramatized but so far, you weren’t seeing the truth in that statement. When the contraction reached a crescendo, you leaned forward while Maggie and Daryl held your legs steady. The pain was extraordinary. You almost wished you could see what was happening, but any train of thought was derailed with Hershel’s next words.

“The baby is crowning!” 

Gasping, you swallowed hard, glancing at Daryl—who had a front row seat to what was happening—and then back to Hershel. “Crowning?”

“The head will be out soon.” 

“All this and we don’t even have the head out?!” You screeched, just as your stomach rippled into a rigid mound and you were pushing again. This pain was different. Thumper was definitely ripping you apart. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! It burns!”

“S’that—” Daryl cleared his throat and swallowed, swaying on the spot. “S’that normal?”

“Perfectly normal.” Hershel glanced up at the archer, back down, and then up again. “Carol.” He needn’t say anything else. The other woman was moving to grab the back of your leg and let Daryl fall against her so he didn’t smack his head on the side of the van.

You were completely unaware, your entire focus centered on the inferno between your legs. There was no way any woman would willingly do this unmedicated. Never in your life had you wanted drugs more than you did in that moment. Thumper. Thumper, Thumper. You chanted internally, even as your vocal chords vibrated harshly with your screams. And just as you thought you would lose consciousness from the pain, it lessened. It hadn’t disappeared but comparatively, you would take that over the prior. 

“The head is out!” 

Panting, you smiled but then fell into confusion when you saw Carol beside your leg and Daryl slumped against her. “Daryl? Daryl?!” You shifted but Maggie held you still. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine.” Hershel chuckled. 

“Who knew a man that could gut a walker without batting an eye couldn’t watch his baby’s head come out?” Carol smiled but began to act, jerking her shoulder to jar the archer. “Daryl. Daryl, wake up. You don’t want to miss this.” He stirred and started to lean back. “Think you can take a look without losing it again?”

“Shuddup.” He shook his head hard, grunting. His hand was the first thing to move, sliding beneath Carol’s to take hold of your leg. Then he was looking at you. “M’sorry. That was—fuck, m’a pussy.” Maggie was moving your hand and pulling you forward as you watched your partner. 

Then your fingers were touching a soft, albeit slimy, head. 

You gasped. “Daryl.”

The man gulped, but then sat up on his knees a little. You watched the fear and apprehension melt away into awe, his jaw loosening, eyebrows rising, and eyes beginning to shine. “S’that—”

“That’s Thumper.” You were able to say before Hershel announced your miniscule break was over. He didn’t need to say a word, your body was already letting you know. Daryl’s hold felt stronger now and he was watching with an awestruck intensity that just made your heart want to explode even as you rode out the waves of agony. You were going to be a little family.

Then, out of the blue, you could feel something was different, wrong.

“Her—Hershel—Ow, fuck—” You fingers clawed at Daryl’s chest, his wet eyes going wide with concern. The contraction ended and you were gasping and swallowing convulsively, feeling nauseous regardless of your lack of food. Daryl’s eyes were darting back and forth between you and the old man. “Daryl, something—something’s wrong.” You could tell the baby had not moved an inch during the pushing, but not only that, it felt like they had actually pulled back toward your opening. 

“I know.” Hershel’s voice had lost the calm and was taking on an emergent edge. “The baby is stuck.”

Panic flashed over Daryl’s face in the form of anger. “The fuck ya mean stuck?!”

Still trying to catch your breath, sweat dripping into your eyes, you thought for certain Daryl was going to jump across your leg and attack the old man. Thankfully, he remained at your side. Trembling and breath stuttering, but he wasn’t moving. 

“Shoulder dystocia. The baby is turned in such a way that the shoulders can’t fit through the pelvis. Carol, I will need your help, please.” You were already on the edge of the next contraction when Hershel nearly barked “Y/N, don’t push.”

“What the fuck’re ya doin’?” Daryl snapped, leaning over your leg to investigate. So many emotions were battling for dominance in his expression that you couldn’t even begin to imagine how he was feeling.

“Daryl, please.” You pleaded, trying your hardest not to sob. For once, you cared nothing about being self-reliant or what the group thought of you and how much you needed Daryl. As you fought through the pain and against your body’s natural insistence to push, you just cried. Daryl kept a hand below your knee, too afraid to move unless Hershel gave the okay, but he leaned as far as he could to hold you without influencing your position.

“S’okay, Sunshine. S’gonna be okay.”

“Y/N, listen to me. I can feel the shoulder.” Now, the veterinarian’s tone was just downright frightening. “Maggie and Daryl are going to pull your legs back on the next contraction. I’m going to apply some pressure above your pubic bone. It’s not going to be pleasant, but if I’m correct, the head should come and then the baby. I need you to push with all you have, do you understand?”

You pressed your cheek further into Daryl’s chest and nodded, hiccuping through ragged, exhausted breaths. When the contraction began to tear through you, Maggie and Daryl reacted immediately, pulling your legs toward your belly while you curled inward with a guttural scream. Hershel pressed into the area just above your pubic bone, the pressure only compounding the whirlwind of pain you were already caught in. And then it was over and you let the two supporters take your weight.

The van rocked again, but was ignored. Hershel looked at Carol gravely and shook his head. 

“S’that ‘bout?” Daryl hissed, trying hard for your sake not to lose his cool.

“It didn’t work.” Before Daryl could speak, the old man continued. “We’re going to try one more time. If it doesn’t work, there are a couple of other things we can try but time is of the essence. The baby isn’t getting the oxygen they need like this.”

“Whatever ya gotta do. Just take care’a both’a ‘em.” 

Hershel nodded. “Alright, same thing, Y/N. A big, big push for me.”

You shook your head, exhausted. “I can’t.” You whispered, your eyelids heavy as hope attempted to flee and you accepted that once again, the world would take from you. It would take from Daryl. “I’m so tired.” You felt movement beneath your left leg and then Daryl’s hand was grasping your chin, firm but gentle. 

“Hey. Cut that shit out.” He wasn’t angry. He was using the same tone you’d heard him use when he had told Thumper to cut you some slack. When he had started communicating with the baby. “Ya’ve gone through hell an’ back for this an’ I ain’t lettin’ ya quit at the goddamn finish line, ya hear me?”

“I’m tired, Daryl.” Your face screwed up in pain as the next contraction began to build.

“Nu uh. Ya ain’t gonna bust into my life an’ fuck up my world six ways from Sunday, make me love ya an’ this kid, an’ then just give up. S’you an’ me an’ Thumper. S’what ya said!”

You blinked at him, slowly starting to sit up.

“I’ve seen ya be a badass before, Sunshine.” Your breaths were coming faster, the contraction nearly on top of you, but you only had eyes for Daryl. “Be a fuckin’ badass now.” His hand left your face and went back to your leg, pulling it toward you at the same time Maggie moved the right one. 

You screamed so loud that you were certain the rocks and bumps of the van were due to your wails alone. Something shifted, you felt it and it hurt. You were on fire and aching at the same time. When the contraction ended, you still felt painfully stretched and bruised and uncomfortable. “Did—did it work?” You panted, grasping desperately for Daryl’s shirt.

“The head is out, the shoulders are turned. One more big push, Y/N. Just one more.”

You breathed harshly through your nose, trying to amp yourself up. Maggie and Carol were throwing encouragement your way, but you didn’t hear them. You only felt Dary’s breath against your ear, his stubbled cheek rubbing against your skin.

He whispered, only for you to hear. “I love ya.” Kissing your temple, he moved back to his spot and when you looked at him, exhausted and crying, the corner of his mouth twitched and he nodded.

You could do this.

When the next contraction ripped through you, the world went silent. It was only you and the pain, white hot and all consuming. You were indeed being torn in half but if it meant Thumper would take that first breath, would open those little eyes to see the world—fucked up or not—then you would gladly be wrenched into pieces. 

The moment the baby slipped free of you, you felt the emptiness. You still hurt, but the worst of the pain was suddenly absent. Sound and sight came back to you in an onslaught that had you sucking in a breath like your lungs had been starved. 

“Is—Hershel, the baby?” You asked, trying to move as Daryl and Maggie lowered your legs. The archer was leaning across your knee. You couldn’t even tell if he was breathing, but his eyes were wide and darting. 

“Doc—”

The ferocious first cries of the distraught newborn echoed throughout the van. Maggie had moved behind you to keep you sitting up while Daryl had staggered backward and fallen on his ass against the interior wall, eyes on the little thing that Hershel was looking over intently. Maggie reached over your shoulder and began unbuttoning your dress, whispering in your ear as she moved.

“The baby needs to nurse, bond with you on your skin and it’ll help when you have to push out the placenta, okay?” You blinked at her, concerned. “It’s okay. It’s nothing like what you just went through. One or two small pushes and it’s out.”’ You nodded robotically, watching Hershel maneuver some sort of tape around a slimy cord.

Thumper was not happy. They were probably cold and that thought made your heart ache. Your baby should never be uncomfortable. Daryl was slowly, clumsily making his way toward you, but wasn’t taking his eyes off the baby. When he was sitting beside you, Hershel finally leaned over you and placed the squirming, slippery baby on your chest.

“Congratulations. You have a daughter.”

#murda writes #blood ties #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #pregnant!reader #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl angst #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon twd

[lab-gr0wn-lambs]

Carl-centric episodes evoke such a strong emotion in me that I can't quite articulate. He's just a kid. Growing up at the end of the world. It's all so desolate and hopeless. But also so.. Free. Finding a bag of roller skates, dropped by someone who was just eaten alive. Driving a car for the first time only to run over a monster. Eating a whole can of pudding on a rooftop, overlooking a barren suburb where he once would've laughed with friends, gone to school, had homework. Where he would have been told ''get down from there!'' and ''you're grounded!''. Where he would have been told ''I'm proud of you'' and 'you're going to do great things''...

#this show did the impossible by making me actually invested in The Kid Character #I didn't think he'd be much of a character at all #to begin with he was just sorta an extension of Rick #which makes sense he was like 9. He was kinda just there to give Rick purpose #by the way how old is Carl supposed to be #this dude aged like 5 years and Judith is still a baby #anyways #the walking dead #the walking dead spoilers #random fact people in the year below me in school thought my name was Carl #they were pissing me off kept going 'what's your name! hey! oi! who are you!' so I just made something up for some reason and stuck with it #I was actually considering it for when I changed my name a few months back but it is a bitch to pronounce with my accent #'Caahl?' 'CoRL?' 'CoRal' no back to the drawing board

[virtualreader]

birthday present

rickgrimesxfem!reader

summary: you weren't expecting anyone to remember that today was your birthday, and definitely did not expect a certain cowboy to give you not one, but two birthday presents.

word count: 1,2k.

genre: smut (and a little bit of fluff)

warnings: p in v (unprotected), fingering, sensory deprivation, praising.

a/n: this is my first time writing smut, I know I have a lot of scope for improvement, so feedback is certainly appreciated.

+18 content below, minors dni, nsfw, please do not read it if you're uncomfortable with this topic!

"C’mon, take it. I got it for ya," Rick insisted, handing you the small box. The messily wrapped newspaper sheet was held in place by a delicate blue ribbon, which attempted to form a bow on top of it.

You were always living in a daze, with no sense of time. However, Rick was surprisingly able to keep track of the days and make sure to surprise you every year with a small gift. Some years, it would be a bouquet of flowers, and other years it would be a small trinket that he had picked up on one of his runs. Regardless of what it was, it always brought a smile to your face and made you feel loved.

You couldn't help but wonder how he managed to keep track of the calendar when you could barely remember what day of the week it was. But that was just another one of the many little mysteries that made him such a special person to you.

You carefully untied the ribbon and unwrapped the newspaper to reveal a small, silver necklace. The pendant on the necklace was in the shape of a cowboy hat, a nod to Rick's own hat that he always wore and which now belonged to Carl. You smiled, touched by the thoughtfulness of the gift.

"Thank you, Rick. This is beautiful," you said, putting on the necklace and admiring the way it caught the light. Rick grinned, pleased with your reaction.

"Well, I couldn't let your birthday go by without getting you something," he replied. "But that's not all. I've got one more surprise for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blindfold.

He covered your eyes with the cloth, tying it loosely behind your head. Normally the darkness would be something scary, not knowing what’s around you or what could happen next, but you had to admit that in these circumstances it pretty much turned you on.

You felt Rick’s hand on your arm, guiding you through the house. He closed the door of what you supposed was your bedroom behind him. And before you could even ask what was going on he put your hand on his throbbing budge.

You gasped in surprise, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "Rick, what…?" you started to say, but he interrupted you.

"Happy birthday, darlin'," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "I wanted to give you something special this year."

You felt his lips on yours, and you couldn't help but lose yourself in the moment. The blindfold made everything feel more intense and intimate, and you were grateful for the darkness that allowed you to focus solely on the sensations coursing through your body.

As he pushed you down onto the bed, you could feel the intensity of his passion emanating from his movements. Rick's desire was palpable as he moved frantically on top of you, his body consumed by lust.

Briefly pulling away, he hiked up his shirt, revealing his taut, muscular abdomen. With your hands pinned up against the bedhead, you felt a shiver run down your spine as Rick's mouth found the sensitive skin of your neck. His tongue teased and tantalized your skin, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body.

“We’re going to have to work on keeping you still, baby.” he rasped against your neck as you wiggle under him.

The grip on your hand tightened, and the old bed squeaked along with your motion, creating a melody you completed with your purring.

His hands traveled to your pants, muddy from the gardening labors you were in charge of, and got rid of them, and continued to undress you until your body was completely exposed to his feverish gaze.

He took a moment to contemplate your body after he had relieved himself of his own clothing, damn, you looked so pretty subdued to his control. His tongue danced over your nipples, and the moan that escaped your mouth in response made Rick smile boastfully.

As you were about to complain, he interrupted you with a stern grunt and ordered you to open your mouth. Caught off guard by his sudden demand, you hesitated. He then slid his fingers into your mouth and used your saliva to lubricate them.

He spread your legs and pushed the two fingers inside you, causing you to gasp in pleasure. He moved them slowly at first, but gradually picked up the pace, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit. You moaned in ecstasy, your body writhing beneath him as he continued to pleasure you with his fingers.

Each movement was deliberate and calculated, designed to bring you to the brink of orgasm and keep you there. You pulled your head back, your mouth open as you groaned, your legs stiffening.

As he looked at you, he couldn't help but think about how deliciously wet you was. Your body was practically begging him to do something, and he couldn't resist any longer.

He leaned in close and whispered in your ear, "God, I want you so badly right now." you shivered at his words, feeling a wave of desire wash over you. He continued to tease you, slowly running his fingers up and down your arm, sending chills down your spine.

The blindfold heightened the intensity of the pleasure, making it more satisfying and enjoyable. The lack of visual stimulation allowed the other senses to become more acute, leading to a more immersive experience. The anticipation of not knowing what would happen next added an element of excitement and mystery to the encounter. It added a new dimension to the experience.

“Rick…” you hoarsely begged.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” his deliberate teasing causing you to soak his fingers even more. “Tell me.”

“You,” his fingers leaved your hole. “I want you inside me.”

Next thing you knew, his tip was tentatively brushing your entrance. His barely perceptible touch tingled you, your whole body quivering in anticipation. He slid his hands to your hips, a firm hold on your sides, yet not hurting you. With your leg resting on his bare, broad shoulders he thrusted his cock against your walls, both fitting as key and lock.

Your spasms squeezed his warm rod, bringing him closer to climax. "Such a good girl." he praised you, the sound of your panting filling Rick's ears with satisfaction. His heady scent, more intense than ever, got you higher than drugs.

Finally, when you could take no more, Rick released you, allowing you to come down from the dizzying heights of pleasure. You were left panting and sweating, your body spent from the passionate experience.

You gasped for air, your body trembling from the intensity of the orgasm that had just wracked through your body. You couldn't believe how incredible it had felt, how Rick had managed to bring you such an incredible amount of pleasure. You were completely spent, your body still humming with the aftershocks of the orgasm. Rick lay next to you, his arm draped over your waist felt comforting and safe.

“Just so you know, I turn forty next month”

How could you possibly refuse to gift the man whose smile mesmerized you?

#twd #twdxreader #twd x reader #the walking dead #thewalkingdead #amc #rick grimes fluff #rickgrimes #rick grimes imagine #rickgrimesxreader #rick grimes x reader smut #rick grimes x reader fluff #rick grimes #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes smut #rick grimes x female reader #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #twd rick

[aurasplanet]

TEACH YOU A LESSON carl grimes x fem!reader

warnings — both are 18+, repost of an old fic because i feel bad for depriving you guys, overstimulation, ruined orgasm, jerking off, oral (m!receiving), sub!carl

it got on your nerves how all of a sudden a new girl comes to the school and your boyfriend is all over her. maybe you're overreacting, but he's still spending too much time with her for your liking. the two of you have barely spent time together the past few days.

that brings you to now. sitting outside next to ron. you were in your normal spot, right next to where carl was supposed to be sitting. instead he was teaching enid how to use a gun, which the girl was already clearly an expert at.

the worst part, he was way too close. arms around her close, ignoring her murderous glare.

but what really caught your attention is the way he was looking at you. you've been with carl so long that you can read him like an open book. he was doing this to get a reaction out of you. soon after he was making his way back to your spot, but you don't even give him time to sit down.

you grab his arm and stand up, "let's go."

"go? where?" it didn't take a genius to recognize the suggestive tone in his voice. but you didn't answer him, just took his hand to lead him to his house.

he would say snarky things while you walked even though he knew he wouldn't get an answer. "cat got your tongue?"

you whip around and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him down harshly. "i don't know what you were hoping for but trust me carl, you're not getting it."

the smirk on his face drops but quickly returns. "punishment or not, you're gonna fuck me."

he was right, you did. but here the boy is now, squirming on his bed on the edge of his third orgasm and you showed no signs of stopping. it was a sight to see truly, his head thrown back, legs quivering. your hand was working on his cock in slow motions.

"please, please, please."

you giggle, speeding up slightly causing the boy's mouth to drop open. "please, what baby?" he didn't answer you, all he did was grab your arm and whimper.

you pout in faux sympathy, "want me to stop?"

his grip on your arm got tighter and he leaned forward, guiding your hand to make sure you didn't "no!"

a sadistic smirk finds its way to your lips, something popping in your head that would guarantee carl never stepping out of line again. maybe it was a little harsh, your heart clenching a little at your precious boyfriend. he'd already apologized and was doing so good.

but it would teach him a lesson.

you continue pumping him, speeding up a little and nearly laugh when 'thank you's repeatedly fell from your boy's lips. you truly can read him like an open book, so you could tell when he was about to cum. you wait until the moment he was about to and pulled away, ruining it for him.

tears spring his eye at the dull feeling, "why?" he whimpers, head lifting off the pillow to look at you before falling back in desperation.

maybe you felt a little bad, but you also really liked it. "i'm sorry baby, was that mean?" he nods, pretty tears falling from his eye. your hand wraps around him again and he jolts, pushing it away.

"oh, you don't want me to finally give you what you want?" his eyes widen,

"no, i do! please," you smile at him and lower yourself on the bed.

once your mouth is level with his cock you look up at him again, "you sure you can take it baby?"

he nods, "mhm, i'll be good. promise."

he nearly sobs when you take him in your mouth, sucking on his tip lightly. you watch his reactions and wonder how someone could be so pretty when they're a mess. you lower your head, attempting to take him all in your mouth no matter how difficult it may be. you wanted to see just how wrecked he could get.

his hand finds its way to your head, not pushing, just tangling in your hair while he looks down at you in ecstasy. when you start bobbing your head it's obvious he won't last longer. he finishes down your throat with something between a moan and a groan.

"i hope this teaches you a lesson carl."

#carl grimes x reader #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x you #carl grimes #carl grimes smut #twd x reader #twd fanfiction #twd oneshot #twd imagine #twd smut #carl grimes oneshot #carl grimes imagine #carl grimes x fem!reader

[pretty-red-garnet]

The Alexandrian

Daryl Dixon x fem! Reader • Alexandria • Fluff

     Daryl looks around the gated community. It's strange, the houses— mansions, really— that lined the streets looked right out of a catalog or one of those home renovation shows. It was clean and if he couldn't still hear the quiet groaning from some stray walkers, he'd think he was transported back in time.

     Rick was cautiously looking at their guide, Aaron, and the leader Deanna. She wanted to interview them. Daryl almost turned and left right there, but then he saw Carl holding Lil' Asskicker, and his feet were planted where he stood.

     After they were all interviewed and had given up their weapons, they were given two houses to use. Daryl scoffed at the sight. No way would he get used to this. No way.

     As his group began to filter in the house, he gave one last glance around. There was a house not far that was smaller than the rest. It was nice, but looked out of place in the community. He didn't give it too much thought before heading inside.

     Everyone was smiling, still nervous and careful, but the hot running water had lifted some spirits. Daryl didn't care much. He instead headed back out to sit on the porch. Everyone was staying in the larger house, so he would take watch. The whole place gave him an uneasy feeling. He felt like the people were giving him odd looks. He didn't belong, and everyone knew it.

     It was late at night when Daryl was still outside. The house was too stuffy, he couldn't sleep. Not here. He was fiddling with his crossbow, absentmindedly cleaning it with a rag. It was more to keep his hands busy than anything, he could barely see in the dim glow of the porch light.

     He heard a door slam and his eyes shot up. It was from that little house not far. A woman was standing on the porch. She was a little ways away, but Daryl could just barely see that she looked tense. Her head was down so he couldn't see her face, but her hand was rubbing at her temple. When she sat down on the front step, her leg bounced anxiously.

     He bit his lip in worry. What did she have to be so anxious about? Maybe this place wasn't safe, maybe they were hiding something. Daryl vaguely knew that the thoughts were slightly paranoid, but he was on edge and hasn't slept in days.

     As if she felt eyes on her, her eyes flitted up to find his. Daryl shot his eyes away and instead began to fiddle with his bow again. He hears a door close again and when he chanced a glance back at the woman, she was gone.

Daryl looked at the house. It was large and filled to the brim with both people from Alexandria and his family. He bit his lip in thought. His family seemed adamant in trying to fit in, to try and make it work, but he wasn't so sure. He couldn't fit in here, he wouldn't.

Daryl wasn't a stranger to the sideways looks he got from the people here. The looks of disgust when he brought home animals on a string ready to be cleaned. Or when he was caked in blood and dirt from being outside the walls.

This party Deanna had thrown was something that was supposed to stay in the old world. Not when there are dead people walking around. He saw Rick holding Judith and chatting away with some of the locals through the window. He shoved his hands in his pockets and finally turned away. He couldn't do it.

"Hey!" Daryl looks towards the sound and saw Aaron standing at his front steps.

"Thought you were goin' to that party over there," Daryl says, gesturing loosely in the direction of Deanna's house.

"Oh no, I was never going. Especially with Eric's leg being how it is." Daryl looks at him with furrowed brows.

"Why the hell you tell me to go then?" Daryl says, his tone a little sharp.

"I said to try. You did," Aaron explains with a friendly smile. "Why don't you come in and have dinner with us? We're having spaghetti."

Aaron waves at something behind him and Daryl turns to look. It's that woman he saw the other night. She waves back but looks slightly confused at Daryl's presence. Now that he's closer, he can take in how pretty she is. She looks a little shy, but her eyes sparkle even in the dim lighting. Daryl looks away and back at Aaron, thinking for just a second before taking his invitation.

"So, who is that girl?" Daryl asks during dinner. He couldn't help it. He hasn't seen much of her around the community. He'd be lying is he said he wasn't the least bit interested.

"Oh, that's Y/N," Aaron says. "We brought her in a few weeks ago. She's still... adjusting." Daryl hums in response.

"Just haven't seen her around s'all." Daryl shrugs and slurps another mouthful of spaghetti. Aaron wasn't lying when he said it was good.

"She isn't very social," Eric says. "She's nice enough though. She just keeps to herself."

"We just try to give her space. She contributes to the community a lot, especially with her garden," Aaron finishes. "If you ever need some fresh produce, she's your girl."

It's the next day and Daryl is crouched by some bike parts. Aaron had offered him a position to go out scouting if he can put a bike together with parts he had. Getting out of these confining walls sounded great, so here he was, in Aaron's garage putting a bike together.

He heard footsteps and looked up, seeing Y/N standing outside by the open garage. She gave Daryl a peculiar look, glancing at him in the garage and at the front door. Finally, she walks over to him a little awkwardly.

"Hey, is uhh, Aaron or Eric home?" She asks, quietly. She's holding a little basket with what seems to be some tomatoes.

"Nah, they're at the infirmary." A worried look colored her face so Daryl rushed to explain. "Just checkin' up on Eric's ankle s'all. They're fine."

"Oh, ok, good," she says. Her voice is quiet still, soft spoken. "I just wanted to drop this off." She holds up the basket.

"You could leave it here, I'll make sure to give it to 'em." She nods and lays the basket down near the front of the garage. She gives him a little smile and Daryl's heart thumps. God, she's really pretty.

"Thanks." And with that, she's gone.

Daryl doesn't see her much after that quick interaction. Sometimes, when he can't sleep and he's outside, he sees her sit on her steps like she's lost in thought. Other times, she leaves before the suns come up, going beyond the walls with a gun on one hip and a buck knife on the other. Even bringing back some fresh meat once in a while. Daryl would be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn't curious about her.

She's quiet and reserved. Sometimes he'll spot an Alexandrian going to her house to ask for a fresh tomato or berries. Unlike other residents, shes doesn't chat up a storm. She does what needs to be done and that's it.

Daryl will sit out on the porch some nights and wonder who she is. Aaron said he just found you a few weeks ago, but no other explanation. Where was she before? Had she had a group, or was she alone all this time? The woman could definitely handle herself if she came and went as often as she did.

"Hey, pookie," Carol's voice distracts Daryl from his smoke break. He'd been at Aaron's house nearly all day, and was finally done now that the sun was setting. He hums. "Could you go to Y/N's and grab some green beans? I didn't get enough earlier for my casserole."

Daryl looks at her and scoffs. Carol had slipped into the housewife role since coming to Alexandria, and it makes Daryl annoyed to no end. Mostly because she does it so well, baking cookies and playing Betty Crocker in flowy blouses. Makes him sick.

He hums and nods once, stamping out his cigarette and making his way to your house. He was nervous, he doesn't know you and just rocking up and asking for something felt off. He knows everyone does it, but still.

He knocks once he gets the nerve and wait. After a while and no answer, he feels awkward. Maybe she isn't even here. He's just about to turn and leave before the door opens.

"Hey, Carol just needs some more—" He stops short when he finally looks at the girl. The door is only open a crack, and her face is slightly concealed by shadow, but he can still see faint red marks around her eyes. Her fingers on the door are jittery and she shifts her weight from side to side. "You alright?"

"What did you need?" She doesn't answer his question. Her voice is rough, like she's been crying a while. Gone is the silky softness Daryl had heard the other day. It send a foreign feeling to his chest.

"Just... some green beans but—"

"Ok, give me a second." She turns and leaves, leaving the door open just a little. Daryl feels unbelievably awkward. The poor girl was just crying and now she has to fetch a stranger fucking green beans. She comes back a moment later with a basket of beans.

"Is that enough?" She asks, her face still tear stained but slightly redder, like she had scrubbed at it.

"Yeah, yeah... thanks," Daryl said. He grabbed the basket slowly. "You sure you're alright? I could go get Aaron or somethin'..." Daryl thinks they're close, he's seen her talk a little with him before.

"No, no. He doesn't..." she stops talking and looks anywhere but to Daryl. He waits patiently for her to continue. "I shouldn't bother him."

"You two are friends ain't ya? Sure he won't mind."

"I would," she says quietly, her voice still teary sounding, and she sniffles now and then. "Is that all?"

Daryl nods, still looking a little worried at her. But it isn't his business, so he doesn't stop her when she closes the door. He walks away from her house after casting one last look.

Daryl brings Carol the green beans and she looks at him a little thoughtfully. She tilts her head at him.

"Penny for your thoughts?" She asks, kindly. He shrugs and gives a noncommittal hum.

"She was cryin'..." he finally admits. He felt bad for saying it, he definitely wouldn't want anyone to walk in on him having a moment and tell, but it's Carol. He couldn't not tell her.

"Who?" Carol asks.

"Y/N. Wouldn't say what was wrong though." He shrugs, but still looks a little lost in thought.

"Huh," Carol says. "Maybe you should check on her later then." Daryl furrows his brows at her and gives her a look. "What?"

"I don't know her."

"Well, it'd be good for you to talk to new people. And from what I've seen, she doesn't seem to have many friends either. It'd be nice of you." Daryl thinks for a second before giving Carol another sideways look.

"You sayin' I don't have friends? The hell are you then?" Carol scoffs and laughs at him at the same time. Tilting her head at him.

"We're family. It would be good for you to talk to others. Branch out." She lays a hand on the man's shoulder.

Daryl couldn't stop thinking of the crying girl and what Carol said. He ended up not going to see her again, but he did sit up on his porch casting looks at her house that night. He couldn't get her teary eyes out of his head. That pure sadness in her face. It gave him a pressure in his chest he wasn't fond of.

Eventually he hears Y/N's door snap closes like it always does, and she plants herself down on the steps. She had a mug of something cradled in her hands. It must be hot because Daryl can see steam wafting from it.

He bites his thumb in thought. Maybe he should go over, just make sure she was alright. Like Carol said, you didn't have many friends from what Daryl could tell. She spend most time tending to her garden or outside the walls. The closest he's seen her with anyone was Aaron, and from her reaction earlier, she probably hadn't gone to talk to him.

Finally, Daryl follows the pull in his chest and walks over to her. She spots him right away, and those pretty sparkly eyes of hers nearly make him stop halfway. She looks confused and wary.

"Hey," Daryl starts. She nods, one sharp jut down of her chin. She's still giving him that look, like she's waiting for him to pounce or something. "Just wanted to make sure you're alright... seemed pretty upset earlier."

"I'm ok," she says. She looks down like she's embarrassed. "Sorry you had to see that."

"Nothin' to be sorry 'bout." She gives him a little half smile and it sends a flutter to his stomach. "Well, I best be goin'... just wanted to make sure you were alright."

Daryl backtracks. Maybe she just didn't want to be bothered. He shoves his hands in his pants pockets and turns around only halfway before her voice stop him.

"You could stay," she says. Daryl is surprised, and from her expression when he turns around, so is she. "Unless you don't want to... it is pretty late." She rushes out, tapping anxiously at her mug.

"Nah, I'll stay for a bit." Daryl, despite wanted to turn tail and run, stays. His interest in the mysterious woman outweighs his disbelief that a girl so pretty would want anything to do with him.

He takes a seat next to her on the stoop. They both sit in a awkward silence for a minute. Both just looking out towards the sky.

"You want some tea?" Y/N asks lowly, finally breaking the silence.

"You don't have to—"

"I don't mind." Y/N stands up quickly and goes to fetch the tea. She might just be shyer than Daryl, she seemed to want to run away more than he did. But if Daryl was honest, he found it pretty cute, even endearing.

She comes back a few short minutes later with a second steaming mug. She gives it to him with that same small, kind smile. Daryl could feel his neck flush. He accepts with a mumbled thanks.

"So uh," Daryl starts. "How long you've been here? In Alexandria." She takes a sip of tea and makes a so-so gesture with her hand.

"Maybe a month? Little more. Hard to keep track of time now..." She taps her mug still, must be a nervous tick. Daryl hums and nods an agreement. "I was the last person Aaron and Eric brought in before you guys. Feels nice not to be the newbie anymore." She has a little teasing smile on her face, but her head is still down low and her hair partially covers her face.

"Yeah, I'm not likin' being the newbie much," Daryl says with a scoff.

"Everyone looks at you funny... like they don't trust you, because they know of the things you must've done to survive on your own..." Y/N says. She looks down, lost in her head. Almost like she realizes she's been talking, she glances at Daryl and blushes.

"That why you were cryin' before? Cause of the things you've done?" Daryl regrets having spoken, because she looks close to tears again. Good going Daryl, Jesus Christ. He screws his eyes shut for just a quick second, chastising himself in his head. "Sorry, you don—"

"Yes," she says quickly, finally looking up to meet Daryl's gave. For the first time, he can really see just how beautiful and intense her eyes are. He can see every little speck of color. He feels his cheeks burn under her gaze.

"And the things you've done, are they why you sit outside every night? Don't sleep?" She asks him, not breaking eye contact. He nods, slowly, and Daryl sees something he was positive he'd never see in an Alexandrian's eyes.

Understanding.

Those nightly chats continue nearly every night. Even while they were planning how to get the walkers out of the quarry, no matter what time either of them had gotten up that morning. Even after the wolves terrorize the community, and a huge herd surround the tall walls, they still talk almost every night.

Even Daryl's family knew. Carol and Rick teased him about his nightly outings relentlessly. Especially when you'd go over to drop off their produce, it seemed they knew the quiet woman mostly did it to see Daryl.

Daryl and Y/N didn't see much of each other during the day unless it was dropping off produce. Daryl was always out, hunting, going on runs. Y/N mostly helped around inside, tending to her little garden and now helping Maggie with the large one she was planning in the center of the community.

But on rare occasions like today, Daryl and Y/N were both able to get away and head outside the walls. They were both excellent hunters, so Daryl escaped from the walls with her as often as possible. Which was never enough now that he couldn't get out to look for new people, as Rick had ordered.

"Oh, Daryl!" She called out. Daryl was slightly ahead, but turned back to her at her call.

"What?" She pointed excitedly at a little shrub. Daryl looked curiously from her to the bush. "What about it?"

"It's a huckleberry bush. I can dig it up and plant it back home." Home. It sounded strange to Daryl. The last place he considered home he'd lost in a fiery blaze, but he supposed that is what Alexandria is. Home.

Y/N sank to her knees and dug at the dirt a little before giving a satisfied look towards Daryl.

"It's really small, and not in season yet, but the roots look good. Won't be too long before the berries start popping up." Daryl kneeled next to her and helped her to dig it up. She smiled excitedly at him, and Daryl shyly smiled back. Her smile still made his heart jump, even after seeing it so many times. Y/N isn't so shy with him anymore, even if she's still reserved when it comes to other people.

After fighting with the shrub, they eventually yank it out. Daryl smiled to himself seeing the girl so pleased.

"We should get back soon. I should plant it soon as possible, wouldn't want the roots to dry up," Y/N explains. Daryl nods and suddenly becomes nervous.

"Yeah uh... could I show you somethin' first?" He asks. He's biting his thumb now, and Y/N gives him a skeptical look.

"Yeah, what?" She asks.

"Surprise." She looks at him crooked but nods. "Come on."

Daryl leads her back to his bike. She puts the bush carefully in the saddle bag and they both hop on. The first time they rode together, Daryl had been so nervous he'd almost crashed. Now, riding alone made him miss the warm contact.

It's embarrassing how much he had gotten attached to Y/N. Most days he couldn't wait for night fall so he could finally head to her porch and drink that funky tasting tea, just because it made her happy. If Daryl was honest, he'd do just about anything to make her happy and smiling.

Daryl was never in love before. Of course he's loved people, certainly loved his brother and his family, but he's been never in love. But if Daryl could guess, he's pretty sure it felt like this.

A sharp flick to his ear sent him back to present. He cast a look behind him to the culprit, who was grinning. He forced a dramatic frown at her, but that smile and giggle made his lungs just about stop working.

"Don't go so fast! My bush is rocking around in there," she yelled over the rumble of the bike, patting the saddlebag to emphasize her point.

"Yeah, yeah, you and your damn plants!" He teased, eliciting another giggle and a poke to his side. "Thought we had to be fast to get home so you could plant it?"

"Won't be anything to plant if it's all torn apart by the time we get there!"

Finally, Daryl pulled the bike to a stop. Y/N looked around before looking back at him. She tilted her head and smirked.

"More woods, consider me impressed, Daryl." He shoves her arm lightly and his face flushes.

"Stop."

Daryl leads her further into the woods before suddenly stepping in front of her. She looks confused and he can't help but think her furrowed brows and scrunched nose is adorable.

"Close your eyes." She gives him a scrutinizing look but obliges with a dramatic sigh.

"Better be good, Daryl."

He leads her carefully through the forest. One hand on her arm and another on the small of her back, he leads her slowly over large rocks and overturned logs with care. Daryl gets more nervous the closer they get to their destination. Maybe it was a stupid idea, or she wouldn't like it. Maybe he'd dragged her out here and she wants to go home.

"Alright," Daryl says finally. "Open your eyes."

Y/N opens her eyes slowly, blinking a little at the sudden brightness after having her eyes closed so long. After a second, he smiles brightly, eye flitting around.

It was a clearing in the woods, shaded by surrounding trees and covered in flowers. Large bushes of different colored flowers bordered the clearing, with small patches of wild flowers covering the ground in the center. He'd found it on a solo hunt not long ago, and planned to take her since.

Y/N was surprisingly quiet. Ever since they'd starting talking, she'd opened up to him completely. She hasn't been this quiet since that first time they met, and it made Daryl unbearably anxious.

"So..?" Daryl asks, biting his thumb and looking between the woman and his shoes. He digs his boot in the dirt, scuffing the ground, anxiously awaiting her reply.

"It's..." she starts. Finally, after an agonizing few seconds, she looks at him. She walks up to him and gently takes his thumb from his mouth. He feels heat course through his face but he holds her gaze steadily, and lets her pull away his hand. "It's beautiful."

She turns from him and wanders deeper into the clearing. Daryl follows, almost in a daze. She's never looked so beautiful, smiling and almost giddy with joy, stroking different flowers as she walks past. Daryl is sure his heart is going to give out.

Finally, she lays down right in the center. She laughs and reaches a hand towards Daryl. He steps forward apprehensively, but after catching another look at her jovial face, he hurries to lay next to her.

They lay shoulder to shoulder for a while. Just basking in the light that's filtering through the trees. Y/N absentmindedly plays with a flower between her fingers with her eyes closed.

"I love it," she says lowly, cracking her eyes open to look at Daryl beside her. He smiles.

"Ain't nothin'..." She whacks his hand laying beside her halfheartedly.

"It's not." She leaves her hand right next to his, the contact sending electric shocks up his entire arm. Tentatively, Y/N begins to fold her fingers in his. Daryl looks over to find that she's still looking at him deeply, with that intense gaze Daryl is sure he'll never get used to. He intertwines their fingers, both still staring at each other with flushed cheeks and soft smiles.

     Daryl is sure who started what, but soon enough, their lips are touching. It's like a magnetic force, and Daryl can't resist. He touches her cheek softly, and he can feel her smile against him.

     Daryl can't get enough, he doesn't ever want to. They push up against each other until they're completely melted together, touching from head to toe. She languidly pushes her fingers through his hair, smiling harder against his lips when he makes a pleased hum.

     After some time, Y/N pulls away. She gives him a brilliant smile that makes him push one more kiss to her lips before he is ready to stop. She curls into his chest when he lays down again fully, and he gently runs his calloused fingers through her soft hair. She lefts out a comforted sigh.

“I don’t…” Daryl starts then pauses, breaking the silence. Y/N looks up from his chest, her fingers curled up in his shirt under his vest. “I don’t know… how to do this.”

“That’s ok,” she says with that soft, kind smile. She brushes hair away from his face and her closes his eyes for a second, relishing in the feeling. “We’ll figure it out together.”

They lay next to one another for a long while, even after the sun begins to set. Sharing caring and soft caresses and touches. Sometimes giving the other little shy smiles. It’s getting dark now, but the two still don’t want to part.

“Guess we should get home…” Daryl says reluctantly, his voice low and even grittier sounding than normal.

“Yeah, we should,” she replies, sinking further in his arms. Daryl smiles to himself and plants a shy kiss to her head. She lets out another content hum.

When they finally remove themselves from each other, they give each other shy smiles and glances. Y/N floats around the area one last time, picking a bundle of flowers before following Daryl to his bike.

Daryl watches her, how careful she is to the plants and how she walks around almost majestically. He thinks about how it was just a couple months ago she found her way into his life. She had called Alexandria home, and Daryl agreed, but now, just watching her meander through the clearing, he thinks that maybe home isn’t a place but a person.

When she gets to his bike, she opens up the little saddlebag to place her bundle of multicolored flowers. She suddenly frowns and looks over at Daryl.

“What?” He asks, nervously taking in her expression. She shakes her head and looks down, concern fretting her pretty features. Did she regret what just happened? Was she just now processing and she realized she didn’t want Daryl this way? She looks back up to meet Daryl’s eyes, still with that frown. Daryl wrings his hands.

“My damn bush is dead.”

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl x y/n #twd daryl #daryl x reader #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #twd #walking dead oneshot #the walking dead imagine #walking dead fanfiction #daryl x you #daryl dixon fluff #walking dead alexandria #walking dead fluff

[kelsstars]

CARL!GRIMES X INNO!READER

Hello Hun!! I saw your Carl grimes smut and wanted to request something, hope you are taking requests rn.

So Y/n has been at Alexandria since the start, she loves wearing skirts and things that would hug her figure thinking it’s alright (she has a lot of confidence) . It’s been a couple since Carl and his group came so like he is (20) while Y/N is (22) just a year older than him. Her parents at a young age were very strict and so she didn’t know about the adult things and so that’s why she’s innocent not knowing about what sex is. Y/n developed a crush on the boy, but was too shy to even speak to him as well as Carl. But sometimes he would try to speak with her.

Carl had these fantasies about her even would think about her every night. That is until he had enough waiting.

CONTAIN: Perverted!Carl, Praise & Degrading!Kink, DOM!Carl, Pleading!KINK, Foul!Language, pet names, SUB!Reader, Hair Pulling, Thigh!Riding, Virgin!Reader, Body!Worship, Dry Humping.

A/N: AAH, OF COURSE I ACCEPT REQUESTS!! THANK YOU FOR THIS, LOVE!! Also, apologies to my fellow non-female readers, my next fic will be gender neutral as I usually intend it to be. :) Physical feminine aspects of Y/N will be mentioned for this fic.

This one-shot is a bit long. 👍

Warnings/Summary: Swearing but the rest have been written above in the requests. :D

You’re a more closed-minded than others, especially considering your age. It’s not like you’re completely oblivious of the fallen world outside of the walls, nor are you new to swearing or shooting gun, but you are definitely somone who people would consider blind to adult situations. Shit, you didn’t know why everyone would make it a big deal when you ask where babies actually come from. Truth is, you were raised beyond strictly under a bubble made by your parents, even before the collapse of society.

Alexandria was an all time safe place for you, but you felt like it was a lot more secure after a certain group arrived. He helped with so much, most people in Alexandria didn’t even notice that a drought was slowly building up, and Rick and his group fixed it. In other words, you were grateful for them entering your home. Especially, a certain someone, Rick’s son, Carl. You were always so reserved that it never crossed your mind that actually speaking to him could help further more in your interest on him. You admired him, you couldn’t lie to yourself, and in your hopes and dreams you wished on every star that he reciprocated your feelings. You had lived most of your life inside these walls, you couldn’t fall in love like the comics you read thousand and thousand of times. Enid, Mikey and Ron were some of the friends you grew up with, you couldn’t bring yourself to like them like that. It didn’t help your case that every time you and Carl had to be in a room together, you would always look away from how your head filled with ‘naughty thoughts’. By naughty, you meant holding hands, complementing and chatting with Carl while you strolled through the neighborhood. Was love supposed to feel this way? You felt as if something was missing. Nonetheless, you didn’t know, and as far you knew, Carl would probably have more knowledge on this topic than you. You completely forgot that you were at a sleepover at Enid’s house, she was old enough to own one according to Rick and others. You always wore simple clothing that showed your body figure, you were proud of it. It was nothing new for other people, you always had tight clothing that could show any of your body’s layout. While you were zoning out with your daydreaming, Enid speaks up to everyone in the room.

“Okay okay. Carl,” she announces as she turned everyone’s attention to the freckled man. “you lost the best, so I decided on what you can do to entertain us. You have to take Y/N to your secret hideout outside the walls.”

You don’t even remember what they were talking about neither did you really pay attention to what Enid had just spouted, but your name was mentioned and that snapped you back into reality, you look around to see the big 3 laughing at Carl as his face turned red.

He hesitates speaking first but eventually comes to it. “Like, alone?”

“Alone alone.~” Enid laughs her ass off right after this, while Mikey whistled in the background, which only reinforced everyone’s laughter. “Don’t forget to tell us details, eh?” She leaves that statement with a grin on her face, they were just teasing him like always.

That must have left Carl mad because the moment he turned to face you and smiled at him, he bolted out of the room immediately, looking red. You didn’t even realize that you followed him outside, until he had turned out to face you walking behind him.

He starts walking away quicker. “Carl, wait!” You raise your voice and he immediately stops his tracks to turn around to look at your face. “What was Enid talking about alone? I know it sounds like a stupid question, I might have gotten lost in thought again.” You half-smiled and chuckle out of embarrassment because this was one of the few few times you had interacted. It was always Carl who initiated all of your small chats, you always gave a half-assed excuse to hide your stuttering voice every time he did so.

“Y/N. I—“ He stops talking to take something to process and mumble to himself, you didn’t know why so you just lifted one of your eyebrows, confused as to what could be troubling his thoughts. In your eyes, Carl always was someone so composed when speaking. “Hey, did little-miss-perfect ever try to sneak out of the walls?” His demeanor changed completely, it just left you shocked, but you still shake your head no. “If you try sneaking out with me, I’ll tell you what Enid was talking about when you were zoned out. I noticed you must have missed that part.” Carl flashes a smile at you, just that made your heart melt, so you smile back.

“Well, as long as you never tell anyone that I actually sneaked out!” Carl eyes your outfit up and down, you didn’t know if it was your imagination but you started feeling weird inside, in a good way.

When Carl was helped you climb over the walls, you could interpret a few strange things might have happened when it was your turn to go down. As you carefully slid down the outer of Alexandria, you managed to somehow trip yourself. Luckily, it was a small fall, you basically landed on your feet, but Carl immediately went kneeling to you and put his hands slowly up and your pants. He slowly rubbed the inner sides of your thighs, your behind and down to your ankles. You may have not probably reacted much to this on the outside, but you were freaking out on the inside, the way he massaged your legs and so so near your core. What was happening to your mind right now?! He could be simply checking for injuries! You were wearing thigh leggings so that must have been it. You look at how he smiles at this act, you try to pretend to hear it, maybe he was lost in something.

You continue to follow him to this small shed, it looks horrible on the outside, and you immediately refused to enter.

“Yeah, Carl, I’m not entering that.” You stop your track.

“C’mon, Y/N. You do realize this is our first time hanging out alone? Let’s make the most of it!” You couldn’t tell if he winked or blinked at you, having a crush on a guy with one eye was harder to take hints from.

You continue walking towards his direction. “Is that what Enid was talking about when she said ‘alone alone’?” Carl stops for a moment and then enters the shaggy shed. “I guess it’s a yes.”

The moment you enter, the shed was actually in good shape, especially with how the outside looks in comparison. Carl tells you he cleaned it up himself and invited you to sit by him, on a bed. You do so as you continue chatting on random comics you have read from Enid’s collection until you run out of topics. For a second, he made you forget about the apocalypse and everything bad about this world, he was the shining light this place needed.

“Ah, Carl, you have no idea how happy I am to be here with you.” You lay your back on the bed, as he turned your gaze upon you. “We need to come here more often.” For awhile, Carl didn’t respond. He just looking at you with a soft look on his face, every part of you, you felt like he could see through your skin with that glare. But suddenly, he got up.

“Sorry, I- I need to use the rest room.” Before you could even answer, he hurriedly goes to the bathroom connected to the bedroom you were in. You wait. And wait. And wait once more. You had enough and get up to knock on the door.

“Carl, is everything okay?” You hear the muffled sounds inside the bathroom stop.

“Yeah, just having to take care of something.” His voice sounded.. frustrated? Like he’s holding something.

“You can tell me, if you want I can help with it!” You happily say, as you witness the bathroom door open and he peaks out.

“Are you sure you can keep that?” He looks like those kids refusing to leave their room.

“A hundred percent!” You giggle and extended your arm to him.

That must have triggered something in him because as soon as you extended your hand out, he grabbed it and pushed you onto the bed. You felt like you were burning up, as he put his long hair on a small low ponytail and got on top of you, smiling from ear to ear.

“Y/N, you can’t be this innocent. There’s no way possible way.”

“I.. don’t get it.” He looked like a walker with the way he was about ready to devour you whole.

“Did you ever get taught about what sex, masturbation, erections?” He raises an eyebrow, waiting for your answer.

“The what now?” You’re confused, to say the least. You heard those words before but you never really taught what they were.

“Fuck’s sake, I want to ruin you by the minute.” His breath is becoming more and more loud, and your heart keeping up with the same pace. “If you want, I can teach you what they are.” You nod almost instantly, if it meant it could get you closer with him. Carl moved his position to siting by the side of the bed again, leaving his hat on the bed side table. “Sit on my thigh. Each leg open on one side of my leg.” He sounds demanding, but also desperate.

You do exactly as what he says, you didn’t know how this would help until he grabs your hips to guide your waist to move along your clit along his leg. Your body doesn’t know how to react. The friction of your legging clothed pussy and his jeans, you never felt such pleasure before, your legs trembled a lil’ as Carl kept guiding you with his hands. Your arms wrap around his neck as you breathe on his neck. He continues to speed up, little by little, as he starts kissing your cheek and eventually, you. It was your first time kissing, you didn’t expect to be in such a place and form. After you break out of the kiss, his teeth beam and he hears you moan out his name and your begging to continue.

“Carl, pleasee- hghn- more! More!” In another moment, you would never utter these words but your brain barely functioned at the hands of Carl Grimes.

“More what, baby?” He whispers on your ear, he obviously wants to tease around you.

“Faster, make the mov..ement fast.” At this point you’re the one moving your own hips, he basically put his hands there as a decoration.

“Beg for it, move them yourself and moan my name. I’ll make sure you’ll be compensated, let me spoil you tonight.” Those words were gonna drive you crazy. You pick up your own pace and speed up the process. He kept making small praises in your ear on how good you were doing, god damn it, Grimes. You definitely didn’t predict he was interested in you.

You finally finish on his leg, catching your breath as Carl fills your face with kisses. “Who’s a good girl, huh? Who’s Carl’s obedient princess?” You couldn’t even properly answer. You gave a weak ‘me’ as you rest you head on his shoulder.

“Why are you resting?” He lifts up your face with his hand. “We’re getting started, didn’t I say I would rewards you?” You thought you were tired but hearing him made you gain energy once more. “What we just did is called thigh riding, I see you enjoyed it.” He places another kiss on your lips, and you return it.

His hands slowly make their way to your shirt and he begins to lift it off your body, Carl also takes notes to take off your bra before lying you down. “Oh, what do we have here?” You rise your head a little to see what he is about to do but your head yanks itself back as Carl’s finger started playing with your nipples. He pinches, slight pulling and sucking around your chest to hear you moan so loud in his ear.

If this is how you acted before he was inside you, he didn’t know how he would control himself when that moment comes.

He goes on your body, eventually reaching your pants. Carl goes back up to face you, eye to eye. “Ya’ sure you want me to go through everything?”

“Carl, hurry the fuck up.” You furrowed your eyebrows, you were happy he contained himself to even ask, especially after everything, but upset that he doesn’t go straight to whatever he wanted to do.

“Well, I tried to restrain myself.” He immediately takes off your soaked pants and panties, putting them somewhere aside the end of the bed. “Look at this!” Carl positions his fingers around your wet pussy. “Don’t you feel like a lil’ whore?” He moves this finger around, doing circles. You felt so sensitive, trembling from the mere touch of his skin near your private area and him degrading you. “What a pretty slut. Do you wish for more?” You already knew the answer. So did he. Carl felt good knowing that he finally could touch you like this and be able to tease you around for your first time. “I can’t wait to show you off when we get back.”

But he suddenly stopped. Pulling his hand away. You, as well, raise up to stand on your knees on the bed, only to notice that he is using his hands to help take off his shirt and pants. It was the first time you noticed his bulge and also your first at seeing a dick. It was directly pointing you, slightly curved upwards, its colors just matched him, a faint red blush color on his tip. You were admiring it so much, Carl had to snap his finger to get your attention again.

“What were you thinking about?” He asks, trying to sound pissed off but he couldn’t smirk at this situation.

“Uh.. Uhm… Your male sexual organ?” You let out an awkward smile.

He laughs. “Call it whatever, but I’m impatient for head.”

“Head?” You question him.

“A blowjob?”

“…”

“You really are asking to be fucked silly. Basically, lick and suck my cock, Y/N.” He smiles at your innocence yet to be crumbled by his hands. You, on the other hand, had to understand how you could give him the same satisfaction that he had given you previously.

You slowly start licking and putting him in your mouth. He silently groans and moans the more you take in, which you make a mental note of. But after it’s all in, you don’t know if you should move. “Sorry, beautiful.” Carl decided for you, as he grips your hair on his hand and bops your head back and forth. You were shocked at how fast he was going, so you work your way to keep up with him. The faster you go, the more lewd his voice sounded to you, it felt good hearing you complement you. “Fuck, baby, you look so pretty with your lips around my dick.” He huffs between your motions. When he finally reached his climax, he came inside your mouth. You didn’t know what to do. Were you supposed to swallow it? Spi-

“Swallow.” And you did so on command. Two hours ago, when you left home for that sleepover, you would have never suspected that THIS would be the outcome of your night.

“Is it over?” You ask him, you were sure you weren’t going to sleep that night.

“It should have but it seems, I can go up for more.” He grins at you as he pointed to his crotch, it was still up. Fuck’s sake, can you ever catch a breath around this lovable pervert?

“I’ll take it care of it.” He smiles. “IF!” His smile drops. “If you promise this is the last for tonight.” You made it sound like you were prepared to repeat this more times with him, which only excited him more.

“Of course, I’m going to respect your wishes.” Carl softly kisses your cheek, before he gets up to get a condom. You were innocent, but you at least remember what your parents called those. ‘Baby preventers’.

After he rolls the condom on top of his dick, he starts making out out until your head is placed on pillows and your body is placed right in-front of his eye. This was a view he wanted to enjoy looking at it for a long time. And hey, you were pretty prideful on your body, but the way Carl had you exposed, you try to hide it the best you can. That only pissed him off because he uses his left hand to lock both your arms in a trance by your wrist above your head. Whilst the other hand explored your naked body.

“You got such a pretty body, it’s perfect for me. This is ten times better than my imagination.” His eye softens as his hand reaches your waist. “May I enter?”

You knew this will mean he will put himself in you, but you were so nervous if he thought of you as gross. This feelings disappears as soon as he slowly places his tip and enters you. You gasp, as then slowly sigh. He stays still, both of you not used to this feeling.

“Can I move, Y/N?” You nod and he starts speeding up his activity. You both moan in synch, then he bites his lip, trying to shush himself to hear you cry out for him. “Jesus Christ, you’re squeezing me alive..” Quicker and quicker, he’s driving your mind somewhere else, not even he has enough breath to tease you, but for you it was sufficient that he just kept giving you that sweet look. He hurried his thrusts into you, making your back arch. You were glad Carl was your first time, who else could be so rough but so caring?

“Y-Y/N, I’m so close, can you handle it just a bit more?” He began stuttering, he was so close to his limit.

“Just keep going, sweetie.” You used your right hand to lift your body a little to kiss his cheek. Carl takes that opportunity to thrust one last time to finish. He re-organizes the bed for you and cuddles with you as he whispers sweet words into your ears, dozing off to your deep slumber.

It’s been a couple of weeks ever since that night at the shed. No one in Alexandria knew , for the exception of the perpetrators themselves, you and Carl. Your relationship and feelings did grow, but you wanted to make sure if he was serious about you, which Carl constantly showed through his actions. He happened to be at your house as you were cooking breakfast.

“Heyyy, Y/N.~” He hugs you from behind, probably plotting something.

“Good morning, Carl. I’m baking pancakes you want some?” You can’t really turn around to kiss him, you were too busy to trying not to mess up these pancakes.

“Oh, y’know… Just wanted to greet you.” He starts brushing his erect crotch against your back.

“Grimes! What if someone walks in?” You weren’t really worried as you were behind a counter but, you were concentrating on not fucking up your breakfast.

“And who will stop me?” He slowly positions your back and starts picking up speed with his crotch, making you put ur hand on your mouth to muffle the lewd noises he liked to hear. “Who could possibly come i-“

“CARL!” Tara just opens my door and walked into the kitchen. “I knew you’d be here. Your dad is looking everywhere for you, get back home, we got a new scavenge layout plan for tomorrow.”

We both look at each other, giving a small smile for how we were relieved Tara didn’t catch us.

“Also, leave Y/N alone, weirdo. Other people might see through your open window.”

“Shit.”

#carl grimes twd #twd fanfiction #carl grimes #twd #twd smut #smut #carl grimes smut #carl grimes x you #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #the walking dead carl #request

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for @ratherbeme; the wet nurse omegaverse.

“This way, if you please, young sir,” Alfred says, gesturing towards the door. He doesn’t offer to take Carl’s bag or the linens, for obvious reasons; he’d just get his scent on them if he did, after all. He does look mildly pained not to make the offer, though. Bruce is just mystified by how Carl hasn’t dropped any of it. 

Or Lor, at this point. 

Well, no. Bruce is pretty certain Carl would drop anything but Lor, at this point.

“This place is real fucking old-school, huh,” Carl observes, peering down the hall curiously. “I’ve never seen a den with this much fancy shit in it.” 

Travers looks agonized. Bruce quietly enjoys it, if only for the little taste of schadenfreude. Sue him, but she has been just shy of unbearable this entire visit. 

“Family heirlooms, mostly,” he says with an easy shrug. “Sentimental, you know how it is.” 

“Not really,” Carl says with a shrug of his own, and Bruce remembers–stray. Right. 

Well, he didn’t forget, just . . . didn’t think, he supposes. 

In his defense, it’s been a long search to find this kid and he’s barely slept the past few nights stressing out about the starving pup crying more and more weakly in his territory. He’s not really at his best right now.

#ratherbeme #wip: the wet nurse omegaverse #omegaverse

[smutinlove]

Request: Carl gets lost on a scavenging trip and Reader, althought although she grew up well protected in Alexandria, goes to search for him on her own. In the end Carl has to save her and they get caught in a storm and have to seek shelter somewhere and spend the night and some fluff occurs, maybe more, as you like

delivered <3

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You often wonder what dirt tastes like. Oh, you wondered what life outside of Alexandria was like. Was it terrifying? Were the stories about the flesh-eating monsters true? Well, now you know.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You watched as Carl was talking to his father, Rick Grimes. After Carl lost his eye, Rick had been a bit tense. But you understood that. Family is family. You saw Rick hand Carl a gun. You had your arms crossed. You were sitting on a bench, just watching the father-son duo talk. "Yeah, I'll be careful, Dad. It's not like I'm going to get bitten by a walker. So, chill." He reassured his worried father. "Teenagers," he scoffed. "Be careful, okay? I want you back here by five." Carl smiled and nodded. "Y/N," he turned to look at you, "don't do anything stupid till I get back." "How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you." He gave his father one last hug before walking out of the gates of Alexandria, your home. "You're staring." You turned your head and saw Enid. "Woah! No, hi or hello, Y/N, it's so great to see you," you mocked, making Enid roll her eyes. "You really gotta stop staring at Carl. He's the leader's son, for Christ's sake!" "Sorry, mom," you muttered under your breath. You got up from the bench and went back inside your house. You looked at your watch. It was one p.m. He should be back by six, just like Carl's father said. Hopefully, he will be back soon. You missed him. No, you barely know him. Idiot.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You've had enough of this. The adults were panicking; your friends were panicking, and so were you. But you had the guts to get up and find the eyeless boy. You were going to do it. You threw your hood up and sneakily started making your way to the armory. You'd never done this before. You had lived a very sheltered life in Alexandria. Hell, you didn't even know how to properly use a gun. Thanks to Deanna, you were a bit useless when it came to fighting. After all, you hadn't left the walls since the outbreak started. You were lucky to have found Deanna just two days after the world went to shit and blood. You opened the window and jumped in, quietly, of course. You quickly grabbed a gun and stuffed it into your backpack. You heard familiar voices outside the window. "I'll go, man. Anything for the kid." It was the deep and gruff voice of Daryl Dixon. You hadn't talked to him before because he seemed intimidating. But who knew that Daryl Dixon was just a big softie on the inside? "Nah, you ain't going to look for him. You're staying here. Me and Michonne will go. Take 'are of Alexandria, alright?" It was Rick Grimes, the father of Carl Grimes. "Fine. But if you ain't back, then I'm going after ya." You heard them start to walk away. You let out a sigh. If this was the kind of stuff the FBI did, then you wanted no part of it. But anything for Carl. He is your friend. You opened the window you used to come in and jumped out. You kept your hood up and ran.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

When you were running, you also overheard Rick talking about where Carl went to scavenge. In your eyes, he was so brave. Carl was supposed to be scavenging for a bunch of stuff in an old neighborhood near Alexandria. You'd never been there before. You tripped over a rock. "Shit!" you exclaimed. You heard low growls coming from behind you. You looked behind you and saw four walkers. "Oh, shit." You scrambled to get up, but then again, you tripped over your foot and started falling down the road. At the bottom was a river. You used your leg to stop yourself from falling. You held onto a tree as you tried getting up. But again, you heard growls coming from behind you once more. You turned around and saw fifteen walkers. This is it. This was the end of your life. Y/N Y/L/N died to fifteen walkers who brutally dug into her stomach and ate her. "Oh, God. Help me." But it seemed like God wasn't listening. The wind began to pick up, and the rain started to pour in heavily. The sky has darkened to a deep shade of gray. You heard gunshots and ducked. And in a matter of seconds, the walkers fell one by one. "Woah! You look rough, girl. And didn't I tell you to not do anything stupid till I got back?" It was none other than Carl. "Oh, my. It's you! I've been looking for you for ages now. You idiot! You could have died!" You scolded like an angry mother. "Sorry, Y/N." Oh, but who could resist that adorably handsome face? "I got lost. I've been tryna find my way back to Alexandria too." You laughed. "The brave and bold-" You started coughing uncontrollably. "Poor thing." He walked over to you and gave you his jacket, but you pushed it away. "No. No, I don't need it." "Don't need it, my ass! Take it!"

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

It was storming heavily. You and Carl were incredibly wet due to the rain. "Are you okay?" He asked. "What?" "I said, are you okay?" he repeated. "Yeah!" you shouted. There were wet leaves on the ground, a few collapsed trees, and walkers. You barely knew how to protect yourself. But Carl was there. And he was all you needed. "Y/N!" You turned to look at him. "Over there. That's the neighborhood that I was looking for." You nodded and took his hand. The two of you ran towards it. Your shoes were muddy, your hair was a mess, and your shirt was half-ripped because of a branch, but you were still wearing Carl's jacket. You and Carl were also tired. But kept on running towards the nearest house in the neighborhood called "Clemenswood." Carl kicked open the door, and you two ran inside, panting. You were cold and started shivering. "Y/N, I'll be back. I'll see if this place has food. You stay here, okay?" He said softly. "Okay," you answered. You sat down on the cold, hard, and dusty floor. It looked like no one had lived or stayed here for a while. Moments later, you heard Carl rush in. "Good, you're still here. Anyway, I found a few stale bags of chips and two sodas. Is that fine?" he asked. "Yes," you replied. He smiled and sat down next to you. He opened one of the bags and handed it to you. "Thank you, Carl." You smiled warmly. ⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You and Carl decided to spend the night in Clemenswood as the rain didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. You looked at Carl, who was laughing at something you said. "I love you; you know that?" You looked at him in disbelief. He blushed. "I meant it in a friend way-like a best friend way." You smiled. "Well, then, lover, I love you too. You're a great friend." Carl took your hand in his and wrapped his comforting fingers around it. ⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰ You were lying next to Carl. His strong arms were wrapped around you. This is what friends do, right? "I love you. I do; you know that, right?" You smiled. "I do." The two of you sat up and looked at each other. He smiled and said, "Do you know what I want to do?" You grinned. "What?" you inquired innocently. "This." Carl leaned in and kissed you softly, his lips lingering on yours. ───── ❝ authors note ❞ ─────

DID ANYONE GET THE STEVE AND BUCKY REFERENCE?? AND THE REFERENCE FROM ONE OF MY BOOKS ON WATTPAD THE CLEMENSWOOD THING??? EEEEE AND LIKE OMG IM SO KILIG NA KILIG RN CAUSE OF WHAT I JUST WROTE HERE. OMG I STARTED BLUSHING SO BADLY WHEN WRITING THE ENDING ITS SUCH A BAD HABIT OMG OMG ANYWAY LOVE YOU @carlsdarling

#the walking dead #twd #carl grimes #carl #smut #chandler riggs #carl grimes x you #carl grimes one shot #carl grimes smut #carl twd #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes angst #carl grimes smut #carl grimes x reader #we are the walking dead #tooth rotting fluff #sweet tooth #grimes #grimes men #angsty angst #fluffy fluff #fluff carl #twd carl #the walking dead carl grimes #twd carl grimes #chandler #riggs #chandler riggs x you #carl grimes x fem!reader

[gold-onthe-inside]

comfortember day 5 - treehouse

derek x gn!reader

summary: set after 2.12 (profiler, profiled). after carl buford is arrested, derek morgan seeks comfort from an old childhood friend.

warnings: references to murdered children and child sexual assault.

You saw it on your way home from work, the hanging of the ladder from that old worn out treehouse, pulling your earphones out and letting them dangle over your scarf. Curious, you walked to the yard instead of the front door, dropping your bag at the foot of the tree and climbing up. 

“Well, hello there,” you said, smiling fondly at Derek Morgan sitting with his back against the wall in a dark suit. 

He smiled at you, a lot weaker than the charming smile that had won you over in a heartbeat as kids. “Hey, you,” he replied as you took a seat beside him. 

“I haven’t been back up here in years,” you confessed, deciding not to press him too much. Not yet, anyway. 

“I can’t believe it’s still here,” Derek said with a huff, looking around at the walls while you look at him properly. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it the other night,” you told him. “ER was completely filled, they needed all hands. I even bought your mom a present and everything.”

“Probably for the best,” Derek said. “Gordinski showed up.”

“That ass?” you asked, instantly frowning. “What’d he want this time? A pound of flesh?”

“You remember that kid I found?” Derek asked you. “The one we collected money for a funeral?”

“How could I forget?” you replied softly.

“He thought I had something to do with it.”

“The hell?” you demanded, growing more pissed with every word that came out of Derek’s mouth. “We were like, 12!”

“Yeah, well, he arrested me,” Derek said bitterly. “My boss found out, brought the whole team down to figure out what was going on.”

You frowned at him, shifting to look at him properly, legs crossed like you’re in the fourth grade again. “Der, what aren’t you telling me?” you asked, tone concerned. 

“They found out about Carl,” Derek said weakly. “About the lake and the cabin and all of it.”

“Fuck,” you swore quietly and Derek hit his head against the wall, eyes closed like he was trying not to cry. 

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to go home,” Derek said. “I don’t think I have it in me to lie to her anymore.”

And everything slotted into place – the suit, the fact that he’s in this old treehouse, the fatigue in his fucking soul. 

“What do you want to do?” you asked softly. “We can sit here and talk, I can make up a spare room for you… I’m here, however you want me.”

Derek’s hand found yours, slipping into it like a key in a lock. “Just sit here with me?”

You pressed his knuckles to your lips and scooted over so you’re both shoulder to shoulder. “Course.”

#comfortember 2023 #derek morgan x reader #criminal minds

[celtic-crossbow]

But Put Together, the Cracks We’ll Close In

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Early Alexandria

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; mentions of past child abuse; mentions of suggested abortion; blood and injury

Summary: Fresh into Alexandria, Daryl meets his match in a two year little girl and slowly loses his heart to her mother. You.

A/N: Based on the request/headcanon from @louifaith Just a couple of things. The child is described as in hair and eye color. Nothing is mentioned of reader so these traits could come from her father. There is also the mention of an “Eskimo kiss.” I grew up using that term but I’m not sure if it is offensive or PC nowadays. please feel free to send me a message if I need to change it. It is not my intention to be offensive to anyone! Also, sorry if anyone likes Spencer. He's always my go to asshole.

“S’that?”

Daryl felt the opossum sway in his grip, looking down with a scowl firmly plastered at the bright eyes returning his gaze, brimming with curiosity. She was a toddler, maybe two years old? Christ, someone had a toddler in this mess. “Dinner.” He grunted, pulling the dead animal out of her reach. He found out quickly that the curious little creature would not be deterred so easily. Standing on her tip-toes, she made a grab for the marsupial. “Knock it off.” He huffed and took a step back, bumping into Carol.

“Daryl, she’s a child. Don’t be such a grump.”

“Ain’t you got a mama—family to get back to?” He snapped, ignoring his best friend. The little girl’s eyes brightened.

“Mama! Mama!” She clapped. Daryl rolled his eyes at her enthusiasm.

“Yeah, go get ‘er.” There was an intense sigh of relief when the little human went running (waddling?) out of sight. “They got kids here.” 

“Yes, Daryl. That’s what that was.” Carol nudged him playfully. “The people seem to think they’re safe here. It gives me the creeps.” He nodded but didn’t comment. “They obviously don’t know what’s going on out there, not like we do. I think we need to be cautious here. Find a way to fit in but keep our guard up, you know?”

Daryl snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that. Ain’t got no intention of tryin’ to fit in with these folks. Livin’ in a fuckin’ fairytale here. Ain’t gonna last.”

“You’re such a ray of sunshine.” Sasha clapped him on the shoulder as she passed, earning yet another grunt. 

“Mama, here!”

Oh dear god, no. “S’back.” The hunter stated flatly.

“Oh, and she brought a friend.” Sure enough, the little girl was dragging you along, tugging incessantly at your hand as if the child had found the world’s most priceless treasure. “You did tell her to ‘go get her.’”

“Nadia, slow down!”

And slow down, she did. Right in front of a scowl-wearing redneck with a bleeding opossum in his grasp.

“Mama, dinner! Dorl dinner.”

Dorl?!? Daryl looked helplessly over to where Carl was carrying Judith, the little light of his life. Would this be what she was like as she grew up? She already knew him, loved him despite how broken and hopeless he was. She would laugh at him if he was ranting about something and hold out those chubby little hands and he was done for, whatever had irritated him was forgotten.

But this child? This wasn’t his lil’ asskicker. 

Daryl liked kids but he liked them from a distance. He had no business being around them, save for Carl and Judith. I wish I could have known Sophia. He wouldn’t bother getting to know anyone in this place. It’d burn like every other home they had anyway. 

“Dorl, huh?” You smiled.

“Daryl.” He replied flatly, his lip curling.

“I’m Y/N. I assume Aaron found your group?” 

He didn’t answer, too occupied with trying to continuously move away from the small child clumsily reaching for his knife sheath. “Stop that.” He barked, expecting the kid to balk. She did quite the opposite and wrapped her tiny arms around his leg, just below his knee. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? Shake her off? Of course not. She might get hurt. While he really didn’t want to be touched, he couldn’t help but feel like it was somehow his job to make sure this kid wasn’t hurt. “Can ya—would ya—?” Shoulders slumped, he didn’t even gesture. You know what he was asking.

Chuckling, you reached down and gently pried the little girl loose. “Nadia, you’re supposed to ask before hugs, remember?”

“Hug Dorl.” The dark-headed child pouted.

That was his cue to step away, as quickly as possible, without running. He absolutely did not run. 

When you looked up, he was already gone, lost in the middle of his group as they headed in to surrender weapons and be interviewed by Deanna.

Daryl sat on the now red-stained porch, prepping his kill for cooking later. Carol had scolded him and made him promise to use the backyard going forward, but he doubted they would be there long enough for him to need the area. It was just the way the world was. Nice places like this could never last.

“Dorl dinner!” 

Jesus take the wheel. “Ya need a bell.” He grunted, looking around for you. “An’ apparently a leash.” Maybe if he ignored her, she would go find you. But what if she wandered off alone and somehow made it out of the gates? Shit. “Sit down, gremlin.”

She giggled and patted her chunky hands against her chest. “Nada.”

Daryl stopped moving and stared for a moment. Wasn’t that Spanish? Maybe? Wait. You had called her Nadia. Maybe that’s what she was trying to say. “Nadia?” Blue eyes squinted in wait.

Nadia bounced and nodded and then pointed at him. “Dorl! Dorl, Nada!”

He released his knife and leaned his elbow against his knee, the heel of his hand pressing into his forehead. “Dare-ul.” He tried.

“Dooorl.”

“Oh, for fucksake.” The archer gave up, picking up his knife and continuing with his task. Nadia didn’t even seem to notice what he was doing but leaned in closely with the most serious look he’d ever seen. He needed to lean back once she made it much too far into his personal space.

“Fucksy.” She said, maintaining eye contact as if she were challenging him. 

“No! Don’t say that. Can’t be teachin’ ya sh—stuff like that!” He panicked, opossum forgotten. Daryl threw back his head with a groan. “Can’tcha please just go to your mama?”

Nadia’s little face lit up and off she went with a chorus of mama mama mama. Watching her go, Daryl wondered where the little one’s father was, but soon banished the thought. It was none of his business. What was his business was to make sure the annoying curtain-climber made it home safely. Abandoning his dinner—no time to cover it if he was going to catch up—he walked briskly until he caught sight of her. Little legs can fuckin’ move. We’re fucked when Jude learns to walk. 

He stayed close, but far back enough to not catch her attention. She seemed to know exactly where she was going. Rounding the curb to the end of the street, he caught sight of the small house. Quaint compared to the other homes. The front door was open but he dared not go closer. Boots firmly planted on the sidewalk, he observed the struggle of a tiny human tackling front porch steps. Nadia was determined though. Had he chosen to help, he was certain she would give him that serious look again and yell at him in baby-speak.

“Nadia Avery, how do you keep getting out the door!” 

Maybe cause you leave it open? He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. 

Regardless, there you were, swooping down to gather the bundle into your arms with a couple of sobs and more than a few sniffles. “Baby, you have to stop doing that! You scare mommy.” Nadia was nuzzling your jaw but then suddenly pointed right at him. 

“Dorl got Nada.”

When your eyes found his own, Daryl froze. His arms were out to his sides, his eyes wide. He looked nothing short of a deer caught in the sights of his crossbow when it realized it’s about to be shot. “I—uh, kid found me.” Forcing himself to relax a fraction, he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Didn’t want ‘er wand’rin’ ‘round by herself.” 

Your face softened into a grateful smile. “Thank you for making sure she got home.” He nodded curtly and you turned away, only to turn back in the same motion. “Would you like to come inside? I have some stew that I’m heating. Plenty for the three of us.”

A part of him that he didn’t know existed wanted to immediately accept the offer but the part of him that had kept him alive this long spoke louder. “Nah, got my own dinner I need to take care’a. Thanks, though.”

You nodded, the smile never faltering. “Think of it as a standing invitation. Nadia seems to like you. She’s a good judge of character.”

He snorted. “Alright.”

“Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Night.” He took two steps.

“Nigh’ nigh’, Dorl!” 

He heard the sound of a kiss being blown his way, but didn’t turn around. Maybe if he ignored her, she’d go away.

It had been three days since he had last seen you or Nadia. He found that it unsettled him but not enough to go looking. Aaron had gifted him a work area and parts to build himself a bike. It was the best thing anyone could have offered him at that point. He felt like he still wasn’t fitting in, and while that was the idea at first, now it just felt…lonely. 

Carol was always gone when he got up and not home yet when we retired to bed. Rick and Michonne couldn’t stay out of the bedroom for more than five minutes unless something ‘coppy’ needed to be handled. Carl was always outside with Jude in the nice weather. 

Daryl was alone. Though he usually preferred it that way, he couldn’t seem to shake the negativity it seemed to bring to the surface. 

Spending time around something familiar from the old world came to be a comfort. When the posh little community with its “good morning” while walking the dog and laughter over coffee at the gazebo became too much for Daryl, he disappeared into Aaron’s garage. Aaron and his husband seemed okay in the archer’s book. They never once stared at him like he was going to rob them blind or beat them to a pulp. They showed him kindness even if his only attempts at conversation consisted of nods and grunts. 

“You going to this party tonight?” Aaron asked from the doorway the led into the house from the garage. 

“Nah.” Daryl picked up a wrench and continued his work, not giving the question a proper thought. 

“You really should make an effort to get to know more people here.” 

“They don’t like me. Shouldn’t, really.” The archer shrugged. 

“They just don’t know you. Maybe you should give them a chance.” Aaron kept his persuasion in the doorway. He had gifted Daryl that space and was unwilling to step into it without an invitation he was unlikely to receive without asking. 

“Better they don’t know me.”

There was a sigh that made Daryl curl his lip. “Just think about it, okay?” The shuffle of feet and the door opening signaled the other man’s exit. 

Why should Daryl go? He had little interest in fitting in, even when his own group was making such an effort. Carol and Rick were wary and had whatever it was they had but Carol would tell him if she felt it necessary. Daryl was just plain wary, utterly uninterested. Most of them would likely be dead soon and he didn’t need anyone else to mourn. 

So why he found himself showered and in a fresh set of clothing that was his own form of presentable was absolutely beyond him. It had nothing to do with the fact that on his walk home, he thought maybe you’d be at the party. Nope, nothing like that. 

He had made it at least to the yard outside, watching the festivities through the window. Everyone he knew seemed so at ease in there. Dressed up, laughing and drinking. Mingling like they belonged there. He didn’t belong there. 

“Nah.” He said softly before turning away. He was passing by Aaron’s house when a call of his name from that familiar voice had him stopping with a sigh. “Yeah?”

“You went. Good for you. Did you have a good time?” Aaron asked from the porch. Daryl shrugged. The man’s eyes narrowed and suddenly the archer was nervous, feeling judged. “You didn’t go in, did you?”

Daryl shook his head. “Just ain’t my thing.”

“Hey, you tried.”

“Why didn’t you go?” That wasn’t supposed to sound so accusatory but Daryl was tired and had simply had his fill of the day and that place. 

“Eric’s ankle is still giving him trouble. We just thought it best to skip out on this one.”

This one? Christ. That insinuated there would be more. With an inward groan, he answered outwardly with a grunt. 

“We’ve got dinner ready. More than can feed us. Can we tempt you?” The offer was sincere and Daryl was hungry, but his battery was running on fumes. He glanced toward his own home and then back at Aaron. “Eric makes a mean spaghetti, man. Come on, you’re already out.”

Daryl sighed. “Fine.” He was grateful for the invitation, he just sucked at showing it, as with almost every other emotion. Aaron held open the door and with a nod, the archer entered, still ill at ease being inside someone else’s home when his own still felt less than comfortable. 

“Dorl.”

Before he could prepare himself, Nadia was latching onto his lower legs. Arms out awkwardly, he glared at Aaron. “Didn’t say she was here.”

The man just shrugged a shoulder. “Didn’t say she wasn’t either.”

“Hi, Daryl!” You came around the corner from the dining room, no doubt to gather your spawn but he couldn’t seem to form a thought around the smile you were giving him. 

“Mama! Dorl!”

“I can see that, baby. You think you can let go so that he can walk?” Nadia shook her head with a vicious pout. 

“Dorl up?”

“What?” He looked down at the toddler and back up at you, silently hoping you’d act as translator for the little gremlin. 

“She wants you to pick her up. You don’t—”

For reasons unbeknownst to even him, he bent down and placed his hands beneath Nadia’s arms, lifting her onto his hip. It felt no different than holding Judith. Nadia was heavier of course. 

“Dorl!” Chubby arms wrapped around his neck, her little cheek rubbing against his stubbled one. “Tickle.” She giggled like it was the funniest thing in the world and repeated the action. 

You were still smiling but much more softly. “She really likes you.” Daryl grunted. “You don’t say much, do you?”

“Ain’t gotta lot to say.” He shrugged the shoulder Nadia’s chin was resting on, sending her into another fit of giggles. She pulled back suddenly, very in his space and then pressed her face against his cheek. He flinched but otherwise didn’t move. There was the smallest flutter that tickled his skin before she reared back again, smiling proudly. “What—”

“Butterfly kisses.” You informed, arms crossed but your smile hidden behind your hand. 

“What the fu—heck’s that?” 

“Oh come on, you never gave your mom butterfly kisses?” You chuckled. 

Daryl felt nauseous at the mention of his mother. The only thing he’d shared with her were bruises and a few after-beating hugs. But you didn’t know him. He took the anger and locked it down, but it must have spilled into his expression. 

“I’m sorry.” Your smile was gone, but to his surprise (and relief), there was no pity in your eyes. Only understanding. Still, it wasn’t a subject he cared to let linger. 

He turned his attention to the child, who had developed a sudden interest in the hair over his ears. “Ya ever gave a Eskimo kiss?” He almost laughed out loud when Nadia’s eyes flew wide with wonder. She didn’t confirm or deny but the fact that she hadn’t moved was answer enough. “S’simple.” Daryl brought a hand up to the back of her head and gently urged her forward, rubbing the tip of his nose over hers. “There. Eskimo kiss.”

She kept those wide eyes as her little mouth began to spread open into one of the biggest smiles he’d ever seen on a kid, granted he hadn’t spent much time around any. 

“Again!” She squealed, grabbing his cheeks and pulling him forward. He expected to have a bloody nose from the force with which she came at him, but her movements became deliberate and gentle, as if getting it right was the most important thing in the world. 

Nadia was incredibly pleased with herself, her little hands patting against Daryl’s chest before she wiggled out her request for freedom and sprinted toward the dining room with this newfound information to share with Eric and Aaron. 

“Careful.” You said, though there was no hint of anything unkind in your tone. When he looked away from the other room, he found your expression to be one he couldn’t seem to identify. It was soft yet guarded. He didn’t move away when you reached a single hand out to adjust his vest. “You’re smiling.” And you walked away, leaving him there to realize that he was indeed wearing a small, lopsided grin. 

He shook it off with a groan, absolutely regretting his decision to come in for dinner. 

“Dorl!” Came the loud shout from the table. “Dorl, sketti!”

This was not going to end well. 

It had been two weeks since the spaghetti dinner, which in fact had ended rather pleasantly. Aside from your giggles when he realized he was eating his meal with the same gusto and manners as the toddler next to him, Aaron had offered him a job that let him go outside the walls. He’d accepted almost immediately. 

Little Nadia had been determined to take him home with them, so he walked you there with her tiny hand in his. Halfway, she had begun to tire and fuss, instinct had kicked in and he scooped her up in the same manner he would Judith. The child was asleep on his shoulder almost instantly. 

He had zero intention of entering your home and was thankful the kid was out cold so that she couldn’t initiate the suggestion. He had passed her off to you and started to leave. 

“Daryl.” You had called quietly. He still wasn’t sure why he had turned back to you so quickly. “That invitation is still open.” You smiled, he grunted. “Thanks for being so sweet with her. Goodnight.”

There had been a heavy feeling in his chest but he had nodded. “G’night.”

Now, you and little Nadia were almost a constant presence when he wasn’t beyond the wall. A presence that he found no longer really irritated him. 

He would sit on the porch with the kid, working on his crossbow while Nadia colored or played with toys. He had to find her some of her own to have there because it seemed she and Judith were at odds about Daryl’s attention. He had made the mistake of lifting lil’ asskicker out of her playpen while Nadia was on his heels and the latter had begun to wail. 

He had quickly passed Jude off to an equally concerned Michonne and scooped up the kid. “S’wrong? Hey.” Little arms wrapped around his neck and, though he didn’t see the angry pout directed at the other baby, Michonne did. He turned at her chuckle, eyes wide and confused. 

Before she could explain, those little arms squeezed harder. “My Dorl.”

From that moment on, he saved time with Judith for emergencies (there were none) and for after Nadia had gone home with you. 

“Don’t touch that, Dia.” Daryl huffed, catching her little hand reaching for the knife he had on the porch table. He had spent the morning skinning a few squirrels for Carol to use in a stew but was at that point, working on the tension on his bow. 

And babysitting. 

You had some inventory to do at the infirmary with Pete. The doctor gave him bad vibes so when you had asked, he’d accepted all too quickly. Even offered to tag along and keep an eye on the kid there. In the end, after you had politely declined, he had reasoned that you were a grown woman and could handle yourself. 

“Babysitting, again, hmm?” 

Daryl glanced up from his crossbow toward Carol on the top step, Nadia already beaming up at her from the hug around her waist. It lasted all of three seconds before the kid was back to her toys beside Daryl’s boot. 

“Mhm.” Was the only answer he offered, one that was mimicked from the little person below him. He didn’t smile but Carol didn’t miss the way his eyes left the weapon to regard Nadia for a moment before returning to the task.

“Where’s Y/N?” She asked, plopping down onto the other chair. She grabbed a toy that had rolled away and handed it back to the child.

“Some inventory shit at the infirmary.” Daryl shrugged, rotating the bow to check his work. Carol made a noise that gave him pause, one he didn’t like. “What?”

“No one’s at the infirmary. I was just there for Mr. Henderson’s blood pressure medication.” 

He could feel his heartrate picking up, a sense of foreboding so strong that he could barely think straight. “Pete weren’t there?”

Carol shook her head. “No one.” She sat up straight when Daryl stood, sheathing his knife and placing his crossbow on the railing. “Daryl?”

“Dia, I’m gonna be right back. You’re gonna stay with Carol for a few minutes. Tell me the rules.” 

Nadia’s wide eyes narrowed into seriousness. “No bow. No move. Be good. No shit.” It took her a moment to babble through the small list but Daryl ruffled her hair with the smallest of half smiles.

“No shit, Daryl?”

He was already stepping off the porch. “Her mama hears ‘er sayin’ that an’ m’a dead man.”

Carol laughed and shook her head, turning her attention to the little human that was already working up to a cry as Daryl walked out of sight. “Do you like cookies, Nadia?”

He checked the infirmary first. He didn’t doubt Carol, but maybe she had missed a room or something. It was, as Carol had said, empty. “Fuck.” The next most logical place would be your home. He ran the entire way. He’d feel like an absolute fool if you were fine, but he’d cross that bridge later. The door was open, he could see that from the moment he rounded the curb. You had a habit of doing that and he hated it, but who was he to tell you what to do?

“Y/N?” He took your steps two at a time and stopped on the threshold. “Y/N? Are ya here?” No answer. He felt like shit the moment his boot touched the floor inside. He’d never taken you up on an invitation for the dinner you continuously offered him, much less any offer to simply come inside. Now here he was tearing room to room, in your safe space. There were covered pots on the stove and the oven was on, but where were you? “Y/N!” He placed a booted foot on the bottom stair before your voice stunned him frozen.

“Daryl?”

He nearly collapsed in relief.

“What’s wrong? Where’s Nadia? Daryl?”

“She’s fine. She’s with Carol.” He rasped, sheathing his knife when he saw you staring at it. Your hair was wet, your clothes damp. You must have been in the shower. “M’sorry. Carol said ya weren’t at the—just got worried. M’sorry.” His eyes had lowered to the stairs below you but then your bare feet were padding down them to stop directly in front of him. “I’ll, uh—lemme go get ‘er.” He had barely moved before your hand was on his shoulder. To his shock, he didn’t flinch; didn’t even have the urge.

“Are you okay?” You asked, ducking your head to seek out his gaze. He continued to expertly dodge.

“M’fine. Just—I’ll go get Dia.” He stepped away and out of the loose grip you had on him, immediately missing the warmth of your hand. What the hell was wrong with him?

“I was making us dinner.” The words rushed out of you, like you were trying to get them out before he could leave. Daryl looked over his shoulder from the doorway, an eyebrow arched. “Us. Me, Nadia, and—well, you.”

“Me? Why?” He hadn’t meant to sound so unkind, ungrateful, but that was just who he was down deep, wasn’t it? Still, you seemed unbothered, your nervousness born of something else entirely.

“Because Nadia likes you. I like you. We’d like to spend time with you that doesn’t involve me asking for favors or the entire community leering and making assumptions.”

He still hadn’t fully turned, but narrowed his eyes. “Think they ain’t gonna make assumptions when ya have me in your house?”

“Fair point.” You nodded, chuckling. “Honestly, I don’t give a fuck what they think but I worry that you do.” Head tilted, Daryl turned but remained in the doorway. “You seem so private, quiet. I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” Your bottom lip disappeared between your teeth for a moment. “So, will you come? Please?”

As much as he tried, he couldn’t sense a single ounce of dishonesty or ill intent in you. It was certainly there, wasn’t it? No one outside of the group that had grown to like him over months of death and sorrow wanted anything to do with him. So, why you? Why Nadia? “Alright, I’ll go get ‘er an’ be back.” He turned and took a step before you called out again.

“Don’t worry about changing or anything. Just bring you, okay?”

He nodded around the very foreign flutter in his chest, clearing his throat and leaving the house before he could overthink things right there in front of you. He’d be able to do that in abundance on the way to grab the kid. 

To say he was confused was the largest of understatements. You were a beautiful woman. Where was Nadia’s father? In that world, the absence usually meant he was either dead or had willingly left, which he couldn’t fathom either. Was the kid the reason all the single men weren’t knocking down your door? That couldn’t be it. Nadia was amazing, all bright smiles and such an innocence that was refreshing in a world as dark it was. 

Even if you did have suitors, why were you taking the time to get to know him? He was damn sure nothing special and had nothing to offer you. Daryl growled at himself. He was jumping the gun. You hadn’t expressed any real interest in him. You wanted to have dinner. Aaron and Eric had him over for dinner all the time. It was what friends did. He was your friend after all. He had to be for you to trust him with Nadia. He snorted. Maybe that was all the brat’s doing and you were just along for the ride. 

His shoulders were slumped, feet dragging by the time he made it back to his house, already opening his arms in expectation of the bundle of Nadia that would be leaping into them any moment. “Dorl!” 

“She was about to strap on your crossbow and come find you herself.” Carol teased from the doorway. 

“I was barely gone twenty minutes, kid.” He nodded to Carol and turned back to take Nadia home. “Your mama’s at home makin’ something for supper. Ya hungry?”

“Mmmmhmmmm!” Little legs were swinging while bright eyes watched the street in front of them, her arms loosely around his neck, trusting him to not let her fall. And he would never. Daryl craned his head to look at her, all dark hair and big blue eyes. She could pass as his own kid to anyone who didn’t know better. 

Whoa. That train of that was roughly derailed. 

Easily done when the top of her head leaned against his temple and she began to hum some tune he didn’t know. It calmed his anxiety enough to not eat him from the inside out before he made it back to your house. Nadia was wiggling to be lowered before he could even get her to the steps. Much to her annoyance (if her little growl and pout were anything to go by), he didn’t place her on her feet until they were on the porch.

The door was still open and, man, he really wanted you to stop doing that.

“Mama!” Nadia squealed, running right into your arms.

“Hi, baby! Did you have fun with Daryl today?” You hefted her onto your hip, your face turned toward hers even though your smile was aimed at the archer.

“We always have fun.” He was close enough to ruffle the kid’s hair without invading your space.

“No shit!” Nadia proclaimed with her arms in the air. You were smiling but your eyebrows shot up toward your hairline. Daryl cleared his throat.

“M’a tell Carol to watch ‘er mouth.”

“Carol. Right.” You chuckled. You started to reach for his arm but must have thought better of it and motioned toward the dining room instead. He found he was disappointed. “Go ahead and sit down wherever. There’s some wine and water already there.”

Daryl liked wine. He’d partake when at Aaron and Eric’s for dinner but here? He wasn’t sure that was such a good idea. The table could seat six but there were three places set, the middle chair holding a booster seat. He didn’t sit, wouldn’t until you did. Instead he noticed how close the glasses of wine were sitting to Nadia’s place and took the liberty of moving each of them to the other side. Not that the kid would bother them but it just felt—right?

“Alright, kiddo. You get to eat first.” You weren’t carrying Nadia anymore but she was right behind you, looking up at the bowl of pasta like a pup that was about to get its kibble. Daryl was already lifting the kid into her seat when you turned from placing the bowl on the table. “Thank you.” You did touch his arm then. “Go ahead and sit. I’ll be right back.”

Nadia had apparently chosen his spot for him, patting the back of the chair to her left. Chewing on the side of his thumb, he glanced toward the kitchen. Wasn’t he supposed to pull your chair out for you or something? Aaron had. 

“No, no, Dorl.” Nadia pulled at his elbow, earning a halfhearted scowl before he realized she was trying to get him to stop the anxious habit.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, not sure why he was apologizing when she just went back to dancing and eating once he had dropped his hand. He watched her for a moment, just being a kid, innocent and oblivious to the dangers and heartache that lay in wait just outside of Alexandria’s protective walls. She and you—just two more people for him to mourn in the end. What was he doing there? He had no business being in your lives. If he didn’t lose the two of you, then you would lose him. It was inevitable. It was fate. It was the way the world worked now, tirelessly snuffing out any semblance of light that could give someone like him hope.

And goddamnit, he’d be devastated. He adored your kid and though he couldn’t quite decipher what it was that he felt for you, he knew that if anything happened to you, he’d shatter. 

“Daryl?”

“What?” He snapped out of reflex, not fully out of his head before he had realized you were speaking. You flinched, the pasta in the two bowls you were holding bounced but didn’t spill. “M’sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Are you okay?” The bowls were placed on the table and a basket of fresh bread that he hadn’t noticed you had already brought out. How long had he been standing there?

“Yeah, uh—yeah, m’fine.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot, suddenly feeling very trapped in the small room. It wasn’t really that small, was it? “M’just—” He didn’t finish before he all but ran to the door, closing it behind him like he really wished you would start doing. He had a cigarette lit within seconds, trembling fingers bringing it to his lips for a long drag. 

Pale light from inside cascaded around him as the door opened. You didn’t move any closer, obviously staying near Nadia while the little girl ate. “You okay?”

“Mhm.” Lie. 

“Come back inside?” You requested after glancing toward Nadia, finding her eating her pasta elegantly with her fingers. Daryl said nothing, wasn’t even sure he could, but he flicked his cigarette toward the sidewalk and stood, walking past you with but a beat of hesitance. 

Despite Nadia’s excitement at his return, he remained quiet, but offered the kid a ghost of a smile when she offered a bite of her own food. Disgruntled at his refusal, she wore her own version of a scowl and continued to eat. You had taken your seat, giving the bread basket a tiny shove toward the archer.

“Thanks.” He mumbled. He wasn’t sure how to act around you anymore. Staring at his food, he questioned whether the way he usually ate might disgust you. It was never something he actively thought about. He grew up in a home where he snatched what he could get and ate it quickly before someone could take it or reprimand him for it. It was nearly the same now that the world had ended. Thankful for any scrap of food, but quick to make sure it was gone before someone came ready to fight for it.

“If you think any louder, I might be able to hear it.” 

Daryl glanced up, unable to meet your eyes. You were swirling the wine around in the glass with your gaze settled on him. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s just dinner, Daryl.” 

With a barely there nod, he picked up his fork and began to eat, slowly and carefully, not noticing the way you watched him with a quizzical expression.

Nadia was having a hard time keeping her head up by the time dinner was finished, her little eyes closing before snapping open with a jerk of her head. 

“Time for bed.” You announced, attempting to wipe her face around languid movements of annoyance. “Come on, baby.” Lifting her from the chair, you tilted your head when she leaned her upper body back toward Daryl, reaching out with lazy, grabby hands.

“Dorl night night.”

Halfway out of his seat, he froze. “Think ya should, uh—your mama should handle this’un, Dia.” She didn’t seem to have it in her to argue, flopping onto your shoulder. You managed to hold up a finger, asking him to wait while you put Nadia to bed. He did, but busied himself gathering the dishes, taking them to the sink, and rinsing them out as Carol had trained him to do. “Wow, my very own human dishwasher. Can I keep you?”

Daryl felt the heat rise in his face, traveling down to his chest and up to the tips of his ears. “Stop.” God, you were just as bad as Carol.

“Daryl.” 

Oh, boy. Your tone had gone from playful to serious in two seconds flat. His stomach was in knots but he dared not turn around and rinsed the same bowl at least three times. “Hmm?”

“I’d like to see, uh—I’d like it if you'd come around more often. Tonight was—it was nice.”

And there it was. The one thing that had caused him so much inner turmoil now confirmed. You were interested and, for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why. When he finally managed to get his tongue to work, the words that spilled out were nothing like the ones running through his head and he regretted them immediately. “Where’s Dia’s daddy?” Christ, Dixon. “M’sorry.” He tried to backpedal, finally turning toward you and leaning back against the sink with a white-knuckled grip against the edge of the countertop. “Ain’t my business.”

“Gone. I don’t really give a fuck where.” You shrugged, so nonchalantly that he had to look at you. “He didn’t want her. Nearly got himself killed finding pills for me to take. I refused, he left. But I have her and I hope he’s a walker.” Your gaze was fond but serious, and he found not a single trace of annoyance or anger. “She’s never really liked men. Even Aaron and Eric had to coax her inside for dinner with a stale candybar.” You laughed at the memory, and Daryl realized he could listen to that sound for the rest of his life. “But then you. She wasn’t afraid, not for a single second.”

“It was the ‘possum.” He shrugged, shyly ducking his head for only a moment but looking back up through his fringe when you laughed again.

“Okay, we can go with that.” You lifted yourself up onto the island, kicking your legs, reminding him of Nadia. “Doesn’t really explain why she stuck to you like glue every moment since then, though. Dorl this and Dorl that. I’m not complaining. You’re good for her.” Daryl scoffed, ducking his head once more. “You are, Daryl. And I think she might be good for you too.”

“She’s a kid. Don’t know no better.” He shrugged, the urge to run becoming more and more prevalent. He didn’t belong there. It wasn’t his family. Nadia wasn’t his kid and you weren’t his. God, he wished you were.

You hummed, holding back something. “I had fun tonight, but when you come back, don't worry so much about what I think, okay?” The way he tried to eat more slowly?

“Yeah, okay. Was nice. Thanks, uh—thanks for havin’ me.” The archer made the choice to pass you and head for the door. Your bare feet hit the floor just behind him. “I’ll see ya ‘round. Lemme know if ya need someone to watch Dia.” Why the hell did he offer that?

“I will. Thank you.” The smile you gave him was almost sad. Maybe disappointed? “Goodnight, Daryl.”

“Yeah. Night.” He crossed the threshold but turned back, keeping his head low. “Keep your door shut.” There was no time for you to answer before he was jogging down your steps, barely slowing his stride all the way home. All the lights were off when he arrived and he couldn’t be more grateful to slip in and down to his room to berate himself properly until he was finally able to fall asleep.

Logically, he should have avoided you since that night, but Daryl never claimed to be the brightest crayon in the box. He absolutely did not look for reasons to go to your house, satisfied to find the door closed each and every time. If he saw you carrying something, he’d jog over to take it from you, no matter how big or small. He responded by meeting Nadia in the middle each time she called for him, even if he was covered in dark blood and brain matter.

“Dorl smell ick.” She would say.

He was down bad and though he would deny it until his last breath with the age old line of we’re just friends, Carol was smarter than that.

“Daryl, you and I are friends. You’re sweet on that girl and you can fight me if you try to claim any different.” She stirred at the brownie batter, intermittently swatting away his hand when he tried to sneak a taste. “You should just tell her how you feel.”

“Stop actin’ like ya know ev’rythin’.” He snapped with no real heat.

“Okay, fine. I know nothing.” She stated coolly, spreading the mixture into a baking pan. “Except that Spencer has been spending an awful lot of time around her and Nadia.”

Well, that had his attention. “What? When?” He hopped off the countertop and was quickly standing just beside Carol, moving accordingly so that she could continue her baking.

“Usually when you’re out. I think you intimidate him.”

“Damn well better intimidate him.”

“Why? You’re ‘just friends,’ remember?” Daryl curled his lip at her air quotes, turning on a heel to head toward the door. 

“Shuddup.”

He hadn’t been focused, lingering on what Carol had told him that morning. Worrying that Spencer was putting the moves on you that very moment he wasn’t there to do anything about it. What if he’d missed his chance? He growled, trying to take more of his own weight off of Aaron but his leg burned and ached.

“Ain’t that bad.” He tried to brush it off, but it was, in fact, that bad. He hadn’t seen the damn trap, the walker backing him right onto it. He was lucky the dead bastard didn’t take a chunk of him when he went down, but Aaron was quick. Had Daryl been alone, he’d likely be snarling and growling on the ground with his calf still locked within that metal.

“Keep telling yourself that and maybe your stubbornness will keep you on your feet until we can make it back.” The other man huffed. “First Eric, now you. I swear, I’m cursed.” Daryl groaned but couldn’t disagree. 

Christ. The archer’s head was fucked. He couldn’t focus with images of you running rampant at the forefront of his mind. The way you would smile when you saw him; how you’d laugh when he’d huff at Dia for calling him Dorl; you’d have him for dinner a few times a week and it was less and less awkward.

He was so fucked.

“Open the gate!” Aaron called urgently. Daryl hadn’t even been paying attention but maybe zoning out was what brought him that far with such an injury. The toe of his boot was dragging, his leg both numb and throbbing in a way he couldn’t seem to understand was even possible. Sasha was yelling, but he couldn’t understand what she was saying. He was too busy trying to look over his shoulder at the steady crimson trail that followed them. Would walkers follow it right to the gates? “Jesus, okay. I’m going to get help to carry you to the infirmary.”

“Fuck Pete. Gimme Y/N or just take me home.” Daryl slurred, his head falling back against the metal just inside the gates. He was fading, tired and smothered by a dark cloud that was creeping into the edges of his vision and mind. He knew he wouldn’t die from this, but damn, did it still suck.

“Dorl! Mama, Dorl boo-boo!”

Tiny, warm hands were on his face. He was cold, didn’t even realize it. Big blue eyes were hovering right in front of his face, a little mouth between chubby cheeks speaking with an urgency that made him want to scoop her up and soothe the worry. “Dia.” He breathed, his mind finally catching up, though he wasn’t sure for how long.

“Nada kiss boo-boo.”

Daryl chuckled breathlessly but pulled the little girl against his chest. “Nah, baby girl, don’t kiss that boo-boo. S’gross.” Big crocodile tears were forming and falling, and his heart ached. His little girl was never supposed to cry, never supposed to even be sad. “M’okay. Your mama’s gonna make it all better, you’ll see.”

“Mama, Dorl got big boo-boo.”

“I see that, baby. Can you move so mommy can take a look?” You were there, your voice a balm to the pain that was slowly fading. 

“She’s alright.” Daryl shifted Nadia to his side, letting her hold on with her head on his filthy chest. You’d have to give her a bath later and somehow, he had the energy to feel bad about that.

“Jesus, Daryl, what did you do?” You were cutting the lower part of his pant leg, right there on the street, but he didn’t have it in him to see who might be watching. He muttered bear trap but didn’t really recall it being his voice. Was it even him?

The child holding to him made a noise when the wound was revealed, jagged punctures that still steadily bled and she shouldn’t be seeing that. Why wasn’t someone taking her away? “Ssh. S’okay, Dia. Just look at me—can ya hum that song ya always do when we take ya home?” A tiny sniffle but then a little tune in his ear.

“What happened? He okay?” Rick.

“Daryl!” Ah, Carol. Good.

“Hey, take her, would ya? Don’t need to be here.” He was gentle if not weak when he tried to hand off Nadia, kissing one of her little hands when he finally peeled them away from his neck. “M’a be okay, Dia.” She cried. Even as Carol promised her cookies and brownies, she cried and his heart ached more than his leg. He barely caught the word disinfect before the hellfire in his leg struck him like a hammer to the head and he knew no more.

“S’not that big’a deal. I can take care’a myself at home.” Daryl grimaced and watched you moving things around in your living room. You disappeared and returned several moments later with pillows and blankets. 

“I know you can, but I also know you’re stubborn as a mule and you’ll try to go out of those gates behind Aaron within a day.” He barely opened his mouth before you held up an authoritative finger. “Don’t lie to me, Daryl Dixon. And don’t pretend I don’t know at least a little by now.”

“Dorl!” 

Before he could process her voice, the archer had a lapful of toddler. It was hazy but he could remember how he felt at the gate, the protective instinct, the absolute knowledge that Nadia was his no matter how untrue it was. He couldn’t seem to shake it.

“Hey, Dia.”

“Be careful of his boo-boo, sweetie.” You admonished in the most gentle tone while propping Daryl’s leg up on a pillow. “He’s going to stay with us for a few days so I can keep an eye on him.”

“Why?” Came the innocent reply. 

“Because Daryl is naughty and doesn’t like to listen when he’s told he can’t do something. Like you with Miss Carol’s cookies.” 

Nadia gasped dramatically and turned those big blues to Daryl. “Dorl takes cookies.”

Glancing at you, expression bland, he nodded. “Yeah, I take the cookies.”

“So he has to stay right here on this couch unless mommy is helping him, okay? Can you be my junior nurse and make sure he stays put?”

“That ain’t fair.” Daryl objected with an indignant pout. 

“Why? Because you know it’ll work?” 

Daryl grunted and crossed his arms. He was in for a long few days. 

A week later, the stitches were out but there was residual swelling that was hindering healing. Nothing to worry about, you had told him. 

“Why ain’t Ken wearin’ no clothes?” Daryl was concerned to be ‘playing Barbies’ when Barbie wore a bathing suit and Ken was naked as the day he was—assembled? So far he’d been able to avoid dialogue and just bounce the doll around with facial expressions that kept the toddler occupied. “Seems a lil’ fucked up.”

“You try finding doll clothes nowadays.” There was laughter in your voice and tenderness in your touch while you cleaned the wound and changed the dressings. Only a couple more days of that. 

“Maybe I will.” The archer mused, standing the doll on top of Nadia’s head, keeping it there with his finger on the top. Her little arms could only reach the legs, facing reddening and scrunching with giggles. 

“Time to pick up your toys. Daryl needs to rest and you, missy, need to get to bed.” 

“Noooooo.”

“Don’t sass your mama.” Daryl dropped the doll in favor of patting the kid on the head. “G’on now.” The archer dropped an arm outward, fully expecting the hug that was incoming. “Night, kid.”

“Nigh’ night’, dada.”

It was at that moment Daryl Dixon completely forgot how to breathe. His eyes were already on yours before the kid decided to drop that bomb and skip away to brush her teeth like she hadn’t just turned his world upside down. 

“M’sorry. M’so sorry. I don’t—she didn’t—”

“I’m just—” you interrupted, backing toward the doorway, “I need to put her to bed.” You stumbled out of the room as if he were chasing you. 

He wasn’t sure he could move if he tried. His heart was in his nose, his stomach in his ass, and his lungs were plaited around his spine. Why would the kid call him dada? It made no sense. A couple of months wasn’t long enough for anything like that. Right? Fuck, he needed to talk to Carol. His brain was malfunctioning. He couldn’t process this. 

Throwing off the blankets, Daryl sat up, levering to his feet. He still had a limp but it was easier now. Shuffling to the exit, he stopped, staring at the handle of the closed door. You’d been doing that now, hadn’t you? He said something once and you had listened. 

“So you’re just gonna run away after that, is that it?”

The archer spun so fast that he lost his balance, righting himself with a hand on the wall. “It ain’t—I was—just needed to talk to Carol.” He admitted. His shirt was damp and he was certain he would vomit. 

“She didn’t mean anything by it, Daryl. I’ll talk to her.” You were wringing your hands, your chin wobbling. 

Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. He had the sudden desire to hug you but didn’t dare move. Aside from casual touches, bumping shoulders in jest, and of course the occasional wound treatment, the two of you had never physically interacted. Not that he hadn’t thought about it. Wow, had he thought about it. “I know she didn’t mean nothin’.” Ouch. Somehow that revelation was worse. 

“She loves you, Daryl. I’ll talk to her, I promise. Please don’t walk out on her. On—on me.”

He likely looked like an idiot hobbling half the distance to where you stood. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” When you nodded and dropped your head, he dared another unsteady step. “M’a stay as long as ya want me here. You an’ Dia.” With one hand, he touched your shoulder and left the decision up to you. You needed no further prompting to step into his arms. For a moment, nothing else mattered. But then you were stepping back.  

“Okay.” You nodded, turning your head to wipe away a tear you thought he didn’t already notice. “I like having you here.” He returned the nod silently. 

Nothing else was said. Daryl went back to the couch, you went to get ready for bed. The night went on with both you and Daryl feeling more alone than ever. 

“She really called you dada?” Carol asked in an excited whisper, the wide grin on her face in direct contrast to Daryl’s frown. “That’s a good thing, right?”

“No!” He shot back immediately, looking over his shoulder at the little girl playing on the living room floor. They had somehow even managed to get her to sit next to Judith’s playpen, so long as Daryl didn’t touch Lil’ Asskicker, peace remained. “I mean, yeah. Fuck, I dunno what I mean, Carol.”

“Daryl.” The seriousness in her tone brought his gaze to hers, flinching when he found her leaning on her elbows much closer than she had been just a moment ago. “I’m gonna ask you a question and I want you to answer me honestly.”

“Ain’t never lied to ya.”

“Okay.” Her eyes, just as blue as his own, narrowed. “Do you love that little girl?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” It was true. It was so different from how he loved Judith but yet completely the same. He would give anything for her to have been his, to have been there while you carried her. He wanted to spit on the man that tried to force you to end it. He couldn’t imagine a world without you and little Nadia anymore. It was as if the two of you were the missing pieces that could give him a chance to be whole. 

“And Y/N?”

“What?”

“Do you love Y/N?” Carol leaned back a little, her gaze no less intense. 

“S’a lil’ more—I, uh—”

“I said STOP!” 

Daryl was on his feet instantly at the sound of your voice, running outside. His limp was less profound and didn’t hinder him from descending the steps to see you across the street with your arm in Spencer’s grasp. You were likely on your way to collect Nadia.

“Come on, Y/N. You’re beautiful, and I’ve seen the way you look at me.” Spencer pulled you toward him. 

“You’re delusional!” 

“Stop being such a prude. You’ve got a kid. You think you got any other options out there?”

“Yeah! She does!” Daryl’s fist had already connected before the other man had even realized he was approaching. The archer stepped in front of you and stayed there, coiled to attack but holding steady until he was given a reason. 

“You?” Spencer spat, literally, a glob of blood and saliva landing next to Daryl’s boot. “The dirty redneck everyone’s afraid of? That’s laughable.”

Daryl started to move until he felt the smallest tug on his jeans. Nadia was looking up at him, equal parts curious and afraid.

“Dada mad?”

Your arms encircled his stomach with whispers of he’s not worth it repeated over his shoulder. “Get the fuck outta here an’ don’t come near my girls again.” The archer waited, arching a brow when Spencer hesitated. 

“You heard him.” Rick stepped up to Daryl’s left, Michonne and Carol on this right. “Best be going now.” Spitting again, the man curled his lip and scrambled to his feet, stomping off toward his mother’s home. “Well, that’s gonna be a problem.”

“I’ll go talk to Deanna.” Maggie offered, nodding at Rick but stopping to squeeze Daryl’s arm on her way by. What the fuck? Had everyone noticed?

“We should make ourselves scarce.” Michonne suggested with a knowing grin. 

Once they were all out of sight, Daryl deflated, one hand falling to the top of Nadia’s head. “Ain’t angry, Dia.” She sniffled and seemed to only hug his leg tighter. When it was clear he couldn’t turn with the added weight to his injured leg, you stepped around in front of him.

“Your girls?” You asked, expression so terrifyingly unreadable. 

“I just—he needed to leave an’ I didn’t want him to think he could come back ‘round.” His bottom lip was instantly being gnawed between his teeth. “Needed to make sure ya were okay.”

“So, we’re not your girls?” There was definitely disappointment there. You were wringing your hands again before reaching toward Nadia.

“I mean, if ya—yeah.” Daryl swallowed hard. “Yeah, you’re my girls. Have been for a while. M’just a idiot an’ I was—I’m scared. Don’t wanna be like my old man.”

You hummed, stepping into him to brush back the fringe across his eyes. “You haven’t told me anything about your parents, but I’m willing to listen. I wanna know everything about you.”

“Me too—’bout you, I mean. ‘Bout Dia.” He was reaching for your face, leaning in just as you did. His lips barely brushed yours before there came another tug at his jeans again. 

“Home, dada.”

You laughed while Daryl just looked stricken and confused. “You heard her, Daryl. Let’s go home and figure this out.” 

One Year Later 

“Daddy! Lookit picture!!” 

Daryl looked up from the mess of rabbits he was skinning on the porch, blowing upward to move some of the hair from his eyes. The almost four year old was sprinting down the street from the Grimes’ house, a piece of paper waving in her grip above her head. He waved to Michonne who had been watching Nadia make it back safely. “Whatcha got there, Dia?” She was grinning from ear to ear when she presented it to him, holding it out in front of her because ew no when he reached for it with bloody fingers.

There were three stick figures. One was obviously him if the crazy hair and scribbled attempt at a crossbow were anything to go by. A small figure was at his side, dark hair and a big smile: Nadia. And then there was you. Daryl snorted. You were a stick figure with a circle drawn around the middle. 

“Your mama’s gonna ‘preciate that, kid.”

“Appreciate what?” You stepped out with two glasses of water, placing them on the table and resting your hand on your swollen belly. Nadia proudly displayed the drawing and received a big smile and mhm, so pretty from you while Daryl snickered into his shoulder. “Go put it on the fridge, baby, and wash your hands. Supper’s nearly ready.”

“Okay, mama!” And off she went in a blur.

“Not funny, Dixon.” You dug your bare toes into his lower back until he yelped.

“S’a little funny.” He wiped his knife across his jeans.

“About as funny as you cleaning these rabbits on my front porch.” He ducked his head sheepishly when he turned to watch you lower into your chair. 

“I’ll clean it up, Sunshine. Don’t get all uppity ‘bout it.” Rising from his perch, he gathered the meat onto a parchment you had given him and wrapped it, leaving the bones and fur to handle later. “Dia! C’mere!” Moving at inhuman speed, she was looking up at him from the doorway the next second. Daryl jerked his chin toward a bag on the table beside his water glass. “Broughtcha somethin’ back.”

You leaned forward with curiosity and watched your daughter pull out the contents of the bag, barely catching a glimpse of the different colors before Nadia hugged Daryl’s leg and disappeared back inside with squeals of delight echoing in her wake.

“What did you bring her?”

Daryl smirked. “Told ya I’d find clothes for them dolls.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #step dad!daryl #dad!daryl #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl dixon twd #Spotify

[transmutationisms]

ok maybe this is just me BUT. the thing i disliked the most about triangle of sadness was the vomiting scene. it seems to be a trend to use large amounts of vomit or diarrhea in art movie these days and i'm not even emetophobic or anything (i'm literally bulimic) but it feels so forced and gross for absolutely no reason. it doesn't feel like it's making a point or accomplishing something deep. it just feels like an eleven year old making fart jokes.

that was ultimately a really frustrating sequence to me, and one that i think is emblematic of a lot of the film's shortcomings. initially i thought it could go in a few different directions—using bodily functions as symbolic of the way wealth can produce misery even for those who have it; using the breakdown of a fine dining scene as a microcosm of the capitalist class's attempts to ignore crises that are occurring right in front of their faces; using the juxtaposition of waste and opulence to say something about the cost and production of luxury. i could have gotten interested in any of these reads, or others; there's a lot to say about how and when we depict bathrooms, excrement, &c onscreen.

however, i think 'triangle' ultimately gets stuck on a pretty superficial "eat the rich" line, and the whole food poisoning sequence end up being indicative of this sensibility. i'll go ahead and compare it to 'succession' because they're contemporaneous, about the ultra-wealthy, and depict bodily excretions. however, what works for me about the bodily functions and fluids on 'succession' is that the show is much more interested than 'triangle' in the psychologies of its characters. invoking piss, shit, or vomit on that show generally tells us something about their emotional states; it's also effective because we see specific ways in which those characters are uncomfortable with the idea that they have bodies, and continually try to deny them. 'triangle' doesn't develop its characters nearly so well (the most developed are both models, ie people who in fact are intimately aware of their own embodiment), so when we see them vomiting and shitting uncontrollably, it's not so much a psychological beat for them as it is an ostensibly cathartic (for us) way of humiliating these wealthy villains. this ties in with the film's suggestion that the characters have brought the food poisoning on themselves (by demanding the staff entertain them, thus causing the food to sit out too long), which give the whole vomiting sequence a pretty moralistic tone, like we're supposed to be smugly watching them get their comeuppance.

using incontinence specifically in this way is pretty casually ableist (again, it's less a psychological point where we're meant to understand that the characters themselves see this as particularly humiliating, and more a didactic point where we're invited to gawk at the spectacle of these people losing control of their bowels because they 'deserve' it), and it's consistent with an overall sensibility throughout the film that invokes superficial regurgitations of anti-capitalist politics and transforms them into mean-spirited retributive 'justice' presented as catharsis. there are numerous points in the third act specifically where it seems the film is interested in using the 'uninhabited' island setting as an opportunity to question and problematise established social forms by dialectically contradicting them—the flip in carl and yaya's relationship, abigail distributing resources to those who labour for them, the way carl being coerced into a sexual relationship and jarmo killing a donkey make explicit the positions they were perviously implicitly occupying in wealthy society as, respectively, a model and a tech mogul.

however, the film really fumbles an opportunity to do much of interest with this setup, because it's never willing to go beyond its insistence on punishing its characters for their previously luxurious existence. carl gets a partner who's using his body rather than his wallet and instagram followers, as he perceived yaya was doing. paula is stripped of her managerial role and treated like an employee, plainly echoing how she used to talk to abigail and the others. jarmo and dimitry are placed in a situation where they can't make themselves valuable by wealth, and instead must become bodily resources if they want to survive. none of this is developed or goes anywhere—it's stuck on, again, a sensibility of punishing the characters. i don't get the sense that anyone writing this film was interested in how these social forms come to exist, what sustains them, how they might be altered or broken—instead it's just a series of unsubtle attempts to match each character 1:1 with a suitable comeuppance. this is also why abigail, by far the most interesting character in the film, is so underdeveloped (to the point of not even existing until act 3!) and why the film doesn't succeed in saying much of interest about how, eg, racism or ableism produce and interact with structures of class exploitation. the most it can do is gesture in the direction of the things it wants to talk about (nelson and therese are both written really disappointingly in this respect).

i don't really find any of this cathartic, and it's often so heavy-handed as to strain credibility (every scene with the weapons manufacturing couple). ideologically it's deeply moralistic in a way that is incapable of saying much beyond a condemnation of rich people (which is not the same as a condemnation of riches, or the social forms that produce them). although i didn't initially read the food poisoning sequence as funny, in retrospect i do think it was intended that way—which is, again, ableist in a pretty insidious way, and is also just not really successful imo as a piece of comedy. as a film it's really no more interesting or insightful than any of like a thousand other milquetoast gestures toward the same superficial understanding of capitalism as little more than a result of wealthy people being greedy or lazy. justice (a better film) for abigail 2k23

#triangle of sadness

[daryandricky]

SWEAR

Chapter 9 DESOLATE

Summary: Ricks group spends four months on the road after the loss of the farm. Y/n has a painful adventure.

Warnings: Swearing, torture, sa, pregnancy, childbirth, walking dead stuff.

This one ain’t very good but I was feeling ✨chaotic✨ when I wrote it.

Rick's POV

Lori won't talk to me. I totally get it and its understandable, but that don't make it hurt any less. Her and Carl are the only family I have left, and they've shut me out. I can never forgive myself for allowing Carl to finish the job that I should've done.

We've been on the road for about 4 months now. It's winter and freezing. I'm doing my best to lead this group, but quite honestly, I'm hanging on by a damn thread. Y/n is constantly consuming my thoughts, she's always creeping in the back of my mind, begging to control my thinking. I can't allow it, not with so many people relying on me. It's a never-ending cycle. Walk. Sip water. Find a safe space to stay the night. Sleep. Wake up. Eat as little as possible. Repeat.

We're currently camped out in an old house, supplied with nothing but dog food. They tried to eat it. I couldn't control myself as there ain't no way in hell I'm letting anyone eat that shit. It's a hard pill to swallow, that we're so low in life that the only food we can find is supposed to be eaten by a fucking canine.

I grabbed that can from Carl's hand and threw it against the wall. I just couldn't bear the thought of it. I decided I needed a breather. So, I currently stand guarding the house on the porch.

But here she comes again, consuming every fiber in my being, not letting me breathe, choking me like her life depended on it. I let out a painful sigh, trying to control my emotions. My eyes are brimmed with tears, but I refuse to let them flow.

If she's alive she probably has had the baby by now, or at least she's gonna have it soon.

I shake my head at the thought, not wanting to upset myself even further.

I never shoulda shot down our conversations about kids. I know she wanted them; I know that. But I couldn't stand the thought of becoming my father, treating my child the way he had. I suck in a breath at the memory.

My mind unwillingly flashes to the first time she held Carl. She was so excited, nearly jumping out of her skin. I loved how motherly she looked and how well it suited her. I couldn't help but think of having a mini us runnin through our house. I imagined that they'd have her eyes and nose, my hair and ears.

God, I hope our baby looked just like her. I smile fondly at the memory of her. Her grin when she'd tease me. The way her eyes shone when she was with her students. How she'd laugh at my jokes, even the really bad ones.

My mind begins to drift to a memory of her. She was drunk off her ass when she showed up at my place after Lori's bachelorette party. We'd just started dating and I had no idea what to expect from this other side of her.

"Y/n? What are you doing here?" I asked slightly annoyed as I had an early shift the next day and it was currently 2 in the morning.

She grins as she looks up at me and forcefully stumbles her way in, before falling onto me and gripping my shirt. "Are you single?" She slurs. "You're so handsome." Y/n giggles. I believe she was trying to cup my cheek, but really slapped me as hard as she could. I open my jaw, trying to dull the stinging sensation.

"You're drunk." I deadpan. She erupts into giggles and hunches over, placing her hands on her knees. She suddenly stops mid-gig, stands straight and with a serious expression says, "No I ain't!" She yells, face turning red. I grab her shoulders and start to lead her to the bedroom so we both can get some much-needed sleep. She suddenly turns around to face me, shit eating grin on her face as she trails her hands over my shoulders and around my neck.

I take a deep breath. "What?"

She purses her lips as she tries to hold in another giggle. "Lori told me somethin bout you." She says in a sing song voice. The tips of my ears turn red. "What she say?"

She covers her mouth with her hand and belly laughs. When she finally stops, she has tears in her eyes and she is now pouting. She runs her tongue over her lips and starts to sway, like we're dancing. "She told me" she giggles again before taking a deep breath "that Shane told her" she leans in close, so close that I can smell the alcohol from her breath "that you love me." She whispers before cupping her cheeks and smiling ear to ear.

"Would that be such a bad thing?" I ask nervously.

She slightly shakes her head with her eyes closed, scratching her scalp. Her eyes then pop wide open, and she yawns before turning away from me, heading towards the bedroom. I follow closely behind as she stumbles along, nearly bashing her head against the wall every fucking second.

She sighs as she plops down on the bed belly first, starfish style. I smile slightly at the sight. She may have been a pain in my ass at the moment but I wasn't gonna let her forget about this, that's for sure. I start to undo the strap on her heel, trying to make her more comfortable when her foot suddenly makes contact with my groin. I double over in pain, letting out a groan, tilting my head slightly to get a look at her. She has a pillow aimed at me, ready to beat the shit outta me.

"I have a boyfriend, ya piece a shit!"

I gulp and slowly nod my head, still hunched over. I raise my arm, trying to offer a treaty. "That'd be me sweetheart." I murmur out. She gasps and begins to sob.

"I-I I'm s-so SORRY Ri-Rick." She cries out as she falls onto her back, covering her face with her hands. I let out a frustrated breath and limp my way towards her, still using my arm for protection. "It's alright baby, it was an accident."

"No! It ain't alright! I kicked your baby maker!" She sobs out again. I stifle a laugh and begin to pat her head, trying my best to soothe the woman.

"Can I lay down with ya? I promise I'll keep my distance." I raise my hands, trying to make peace. She frantically nods her head and I lay down on the edge of the bed, as far away from her as possible. She gasps as she looks at the distance, waving her arm on the empty slot before she starts sobbing again. "Ya don love me no more!"

I bite the inside of my cheek as I stare at the ceiling before turning to face her. "I do baby, c'mere." I say a little groggy as I open my arms. She sobs are quickly replaced with giggles as she jumps towards me, burying her head in my chest. I let out a sigh and start to run my fingers through her hair.

"I lo ya too." She mumbles before drifting off. I can't help but have a shit eating grin of my own at her words.

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

"Where the fuck is he?" You groan out in pain desperately wanting your brother at your side. Deanna holds your head, trying to comfort you as you wriggle in pain on the bed.

"He's on a run, he should be here any minute now." She whispers, squeezing your arm.

Pain erupts from your lower region, and you let out a cry. "Nearly there Y/n!" Pete says. You give him a disapproving look, silently telling him to shut the fuck up.

Suddenly the door is thrown open, your brother's limp body being carried by Arthur and Aidan, worry etched on their faces.

"What the fuck happened!?" You yelled out in worry and pain as another contraction wracked through your body. The men lay your brother on the gurney next to you and that's when you see it. The missing limb. Pete looks between you and your brother not knowing who he should help. You groan out partially in annoyance, mostly in agony. "Don't just fucking stare at us! Go fucking help him!" He rushes over to your brother and Deanna takes his place, trying to coerce the baby out and you remember the two idiots who brought him in.

Your mouth goes dry and turns sour, causing your face to scrunch. You glare at Aidan. "What. The. Fuck. Happened?"

"Walker." Aidan says, avoiding your gaze. "No fucking shit dumbass." You seethe. "I know my brother ain't stupid enough to get himself bit, so one of ya fuckers must have had somethin to do with it." You glance at the two men, both of them sheepishly looking at you. Anger boils through your body as you notice the missing fourth man. "James?"

"Yeah." Aidan whispers, looking down at his feet. "He dead?"

They both nod their heads. "Good, now get the fuck out I don't want ya two looking at my fucking vagina no more!" You yell, mostly at Arthur as his eyes never left your naked bottom half. They stare at you in shock. "Now!"

Deanna gasps, "Y/n, I can see the head. That means to start pushing."

Nerves wrack your body as you remember the task at hand. You begin to push. It was almost like the baby was deliberately trying to torture you.

After a good 2 hours, your brothers still knocked out from the pain meds Pete gave him, and the little devil finally managed to escape from your body. Pete smiles down at the baby, holding her up for you to see. "You got a baby girl, Y/n/n."

Tears fall from your eyes. Tears of joy. And tears of pain. Tears of raising your little girl without her daddy.

Pete comes back moments later, your daughter now wrapped in a blanket one of your elderly neighbors knitted for you, and he gently hands her to you. Your lip trembles as you look down at the baby girl. Her short brown hair already curling. You wish you could see her eyes, hoping they would be the bright blue your husband once proudly wore. She had your nose and lips. You trace the outline of her nose before giving it a kiss and smiling proudly at your baby girl.

"Hey lil miss Delilah."

#rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes #twd rick #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #the walking dead #oneshots #imagines #fanfic

[astaraels]

Keeping Warm Against the Cold

Two newlyweds, a snowy day, a pile of Gallaghers, and lots of memories. for the wonderful @callivich! This is kind of a sequel to my fic, New Traditions, but you don't have to have read that to read this one. post-s10. Warning for some slight homophobic language between queer characters, but it's meant to be in good humor. (on ao3)

Mickey knocked the snow from his boots as he made his way up the front steps of the house. He exhaled deeply, his breath hanging visible in the air from the cold. Snow fell silently all around in the slow sunset, an almost eerie feeling with the streets so uncharacteristically silent. The lights from inside the house looked warm and inviting, though, and Mickey hurried through the front door.

A blast of warm air hit him in the face—thank fuck, too, since it meant someone managed to get the electric bill paid on time—and he kicked his boots off in the entryway. The lights from the tree twinkled brightly as Mickey entered the living room, and he could see the presents under the tree were all wrapped a little haphazardly. Debbie and Sandy were lying on the couch on top of one another as Mickey shrugged off his coat, and Franny played with her toys on the floor close by.

“Can’t you lesbos take it somewhere else?” Mickey said without any heat to his voice. “There’s fuckin’ kids here.” Debbie raised an eyebrow at him, but he just grinned back. She rolled her eyes, and then made a big show of leaning down and planting a huge smack of a kiss on Sandy’s lips, while his cousin grabbed at Debbie’s ass over her jeans.

“Sorry, Mick, it’s dyke central in here,” Sandy told him. “Better luck next time.”

“Plus, you and Ian still haven’t apologized for fucking on the couch last month,” said Debbie. “The brand new couch. You have a room, you know. My eyes still can’t unsee it.”

Mickey shrugged. It wasn’t his fault they’d gotten a little frisky while having the house to themselves for once. How were they supposed to know Debbie would get home from work early that day?

“Sorry, little red. Guess the shine ain’t worn off just yet.” He held up his left hand, waggling his ring finger to show off the silver wedding band.

“Gross,” she said, but the look she gave him was equal parts exasperated and fond. “Ian’s upstairs with Carl and Lip trying to rearrange the furniture, by the way.”

“They’re still not done with that shit?” The Gallagher brothers were moving Carl’s things into Liam’s room for the winter, since the RV had proven to be far too cold to keep a baby in. So Lip, Tami, and Fred would take the brothers’ old room until the weather warmed up. Mickey wasn’t thrilled about more people in the house—shit was crowded enough, especially since Sandy had apparently moved her crap into Debbie’s room and made herself at home—but at least he could always retreat to his and Ian’s room.

“Yeah, apparently little miss middle class wanted to get the vacuum out. I didn’t even know there was one here,” Sandy said, snorting with laughter. Mickey, who had never used a vacuum in his life, just shook his head and called out to Franny as he tossed her a candy bar he’d grabbed on the way out of the store.

“Thanks, uncle Mickey!” she exclaimed.

Debbie glanced over at the bag Mickey held in his hand, eyebrows shooting up and a knowing grin crossing her face. “Is that Ian’s present? The one we talked about?”

Suddenly self-conscious, Mickey gripped the plastic handles of the bag and held it close to his side. “Well, I mean—yeah. It was the only fuckin’ thing I could find at the last minute, so it’s better than nothin’, ya know?”

The look on his sister-in-law’s face told him that for all his blustering, she could see right through him. Debbie had always been good at that, after all. “Well, I think he’s gonna love it, so don’t worry too much. But you’d better go get it wrapped, get it under the tree. Christmas is just a few days away.” Mickey had gotten one or two other—private—gifts for Ian, but this one was what he could actually open on Christmas morning with the family. Even though he knew it wasn’t a big deal—they were married, for fuck’s sake, he could get his husband something sentimental for Christmas if he fuckin’ wanted to—he still felt his face heat up with a little awkwardness as Debbie gave him an excited grin. “Go on, get moving, before those idiots get done moving furniture.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fuckin’ going,” he muttered, but it only served to make Debbie and Sandy laugh. As he headed up the stairs he could hear Franny offering a piece of her chocolate to the two of them, all polite and good mannered and shit. Kid was a cute one—Debbie had managed to raise her right.

Soon enough, Mickey could hear the familiar voices of his husband and brothers-in-law, although he wasn’t able to make out exactly what they were saying. He went into his and Ian’s room, looking around for a good place to hide Ian’s gift where the sneaky asshole wouldn’t find it. Underwear drawer was out; so was under the bed. Even though they never cleaned there, it would be just like Ian to do so when Mickey specifically did not want him to look in that exact spot. He briefly considered hiding it in Debbie’s room, but he didn’t want to be held responsible for Franny breaking it. Not that he thought the little girl would do anything on purpose—she was good as gold, for all the chaos she’d been through in her short five years—but kids were clumsy and he didn’t wanna risk it.

The closet was cluttered, things thrown about haphazardly under the clothes they’d managed to hang up on the rack. His gaze fell on the gun safe he kept shoved in the back corner; it was just the right size to keep Ian’s gift hidden. Mickey went to get the key out of the sock drawer (he still wasn’t used to some of the ways his husband organized things, but if it made Ian happy, Mickey figured he could get used to it), then shoved a bunch of shit out of the way in the closet so he could pull the gun safe out. He didn’t have any wrapping paper, so he’d have to wait until the next day to make it all nice and shit. Ian was going with Carl to do some last minute shopping anyway, as long as the weather held up, so he’d have some time. The gift fit inside the box, although just barely, so Mickey locked it back up and put it back in the closet just as he heard Ian’s voice coming closer to their room. He shoved the closet door closed and scrambled onto the bed, trying to look casual, when his husband walked in and grinned at him.

“Hey, Mick,” Ian said brightly. “When’d you get back home?”

“Eh, not long. Maybe ten, fifteen minutes.” Mickey moved over to make room for Ian, who seemed all too happy to sit down next to him on the bed. He leaned over and put a hand on Mickey’s cheek so he could pull him in for a long, lingering kiss. Honestly, Mickey didn’t think he’d ever get used to it, especially the feeling of the matching silver wedding band on Ian’s ring finger against his skin. They’d only been married for two months now, but like he’d told Debbie, the shine still hadn’t worn off yet. Mickey pulled Ian in closer, a hand on his shoulder, and grinned against his lips at the feeling of warmth that radiated off his husband. Ian was like a space heater, which was great when the weather was like this, all freezing cold and snowing like nobody’s business.

“Missed you,” Ian said against Mickey’s lips, sending a thrill up Mickey’s spine. Two little words that threatened to make him melt like the biggest sap in existence. Then again, the gift in the closet was plenty enough evidence that he was nothing but whipped for Ian fuckin’ Gallagher, and he didn’t give a shit who knew it, either. So what if Lip was gonna give Mickey shit for it on Christmas morning? Ian would love it—Debbie had assured Mickey of that, which was nice of her, but he knew the moment they’d seen it in the shop that it’d been perfect—and that was all that mattered, really.

“Yeah, yeah, missed you too, Gallagher.” Mickey patted Ian’s cheek and smiled softly. “You guys finally get everything fixed up to Blondie’s liking?”

Ian rolled his eyes, but chuckled at Mickey’s nickname for Tami. “Yeah—took a while, but we made it work. Liam’s being a good sport about sharing with Carl, at least. I’m just glad Fred won’t be out in the cold.” After having lived out of a car with his family when he was younger, Mickey knew that the whole situation definitely hit a sore spot for Ian. Personally, Mickey didn’t give a fuck about Lip, but he did agree with Ian that the kid didn’t deserve to freeze. “Thought you said your errands were gonna take longer. Not that I’m complaining about you being back early.”

With a snort of laughter, Mickey snuggled back against Ian, pulling his husband’s arms around him for the warmth. “Roads are shit right now,” he explained. “Smart people are stayin’ home, keepin’ warm, that kinda thing.”

“What, are you saying you’re not smart?” Ian teased, pressing a kiss to Mickey’s jaw. Mickey decided not to dignify that with a response. Instead, he reached around and pinched Ian’s side, right in the spot he knew his husband was most ticklish. It got exactly the reaction he was hoping for—Ian jumped, not having seen it coming, but then he got back at Mickey and shoved him against the mattress with a laugh as he decided to tickle him back.

“Fuck you, Gallagher!” Mickey managed to get out, kneeing him in the stomach to try and get the upper hand. It worked well enough—Ian was caught off-guard long enough for Mickey to get him on his back and pin his hands over his head. It didn’t stop Ian from grinning like a madman, though, and he leaned up to kiss him hard; when he pushed Mickey backwards against the pillows, Mickey didn’t protest or fight, for once. He liked the way it felt when Ian pressed him into the mattress, the weight of his husband on top of him making Mickey feel safe and secure. Warmth radiated off of him in waves as Ian pulled Mickey into a spooning cuddle, nuzzling the back of his neck and pressing a light kiss there just below his hairline.

“Gotcha,” Ian murmured against Mickey’s ear.

Mickey bit his lip and tried not to grin. “Uh huh,” he said. “Ever think of the fact that I got ya right where I want ya?”

Ian shook his head, arms tightening around Mickey for a moment in a hug. “Nah,” he said. “I’ve got you , Mr. Gallagher.”

“Well, Mr. Milkovich, I guess we’re both getting what we want, then.” Mickey’s cheeks were burning with heat, and not just from Ian’s embrace. Even after all these years, Ian could still make him blush like a fucking teenager with a stupid crush. It wasn’t his fault his husband was a sappy bitch, though, and he could enjoy that now. Sometimes he had to remind himself about that, about the fact that he got to wake up next to Ian and go to sleep next to him and kiss him every day for the rest of his life. After they’d spent so long with their lives and relationships in turmoil, through breakups and mental illness and prison sentences and all the rest of it, they’d made it to this point.

Sometimes Mickey wondered how he’d gotten so lucky. Then he would shake his head and decide not to question it, before the universe decided he was too happy and figured it needed to fix that for him.

Mickey turned in Ian’s arms, albeit with some difficulty, then put his own arms over his husband’s shoulders. “Seem pretty feisty today, Red,” he mentioned casually. “Holidays really get you excited, huh?”

With a bashful glance to the side, Ian shrugged, unable to fight the smile that crossed his face. “I’m just happy,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to Mickey’s lips. “You know, technically I think this is our first Christmas together.”

“Nah,” Mickey said, frowning slightly. “We had the one—right after you had your, uh…your first crash.” He didn’t like saying depressive episode , because it always felt too clinical. “Remember? The kid’s first one—you and Svet made us watch Home Alone three times in a row, and then the stupid Muppet one.” He’d never admit it, but Mickey really did love the Muppet Christmas Carol. Svetlana hadn’t stopped singing the opening number from that one for at least a week every time Mickey walked in a room, even getting Ian and Mandy in on it. That had been the first time Mickey saw Ian smile after weeks of him being stuck in bed, and whatever else he felt about it, Mickey had been grateful to Svetlana for helping pull Ian out of the fog. Whatever else had happened, no matter how it all fell apart, it had been the first good Christmas Mickey could remember.

“...I kinda remember it,” Ian said, sounding a little lost in thought. “Mandy got Yev that Santa onesie, and then she made me help her with Christmas cookies.”

Mickey snorted. “Yeah, and you guys got more cookie batter all over the fuckin’ kitchen than you got in the bowl for the actual cookies.” They hadn’t been great—neither Mandy nor Ian were the best at baking—but the thought and effort mattered more than anything. It had taken all of them to pull Ian out of the darkness in his own mind. They hadn’t had much of a tree, just something that had fallen off the back of a truck, and half the Christmas lights they’d strung up were dead bulbs, but seeing Ian smile again after so long had been worth it. He hadn’t been a ghost for much longer after that.

“...maybe we should call Mandy for Christmas,” Ian suggested quietly. “I got a text from her a few months back, with her new number. She heard about the trial, wanted to see how I was doing.”

Mickey felt a pang in his chest at the thought of his sister. They hadn’t spoken in years, not since she’d run off to Indiana with that fucking bastard of a boyfriend who’d beaten her black and blue, but Ian had seen her a few times in the years since. Told Mickey that she’d been doing better, been living on the West Side last he heard, and had not-so-subtly hinted at maybe getting back in touch. It was a strange thought—they’d been close when they were younger, but he didn’t know how she’d feel about hearing from Mickey after all this time. “...you really think she’d wanna hear from me?”

Ian nodded. “Yeah, Mick, I do.” He’d brought up the idea of reaching out to Svetlana and the kid as well, although that was a bit more of a complicated situation itself. Mickey still had mixed feelings about Yevgeny, but part of him did miss the cobbled together family that they’d created, all those years ago in the Milkovich house. When they were happy together, all of them; when he could look at Yevgeny and Svetlana without bile rising in his throat. Things were more complicated than he’d realized at the time—he knew that now—and it probably hadn’t been much different for her, either. Last he heard she’d married some old geezer and was living it up on the North Side. He could admit it now that he’d been a piece of shit back then. Maybe now that he and Ian had fixed things between them, they could fix some other things as well.

“Yeah, well…lemme think about it.” He felt Ian press a kiss against his hair in acknowledgement, but thankfully his husband didn’t push the issue further than that. Mickey wasn’t ready for it, not just now, but he thought he might get there soon enough.

The two of them settled into a quiet, cozy silence, Ian resting his chin on top of Mickey’s head. Mickey closed his eyes and leaned back against Ian’s broad chest, enjoying the way his husband’s arms enveloped him and made him feel safe and warm. When he cracked open one eyelid he could see the snow still falling out the window, steady and unlikely to stop any time soon. Perfect weather to stay in bed, curled up with the love of his life to keep them both warm and comfortable.

The two of them eventually slid down the bed until they were lying with their heads on the same pillow, Ian snuggling his face against the back of Mickey’s neck. He couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be right now, especially with how warm and comfortable his husband was against him. Let it fuckin’ snow for all he cared. This was the best place, the best feeling in the world.

--

As he’d suspected, the next morning found the snow piled up at least six inches, much to Franny’s delight. Debbie had had to cancel her jobs for the day, and both Lip and Tami had gotten calls that their workplaces were closed from the weather as well. Chicago was used to plenty of snow, and they’d already put snow chains on their tires in anticipation, but this time it had come with a half an inch of ice according to the weatherman on TV. Better to stay home than chance ruining one of the few vehicles the family could use.

After breakfast, Liam and Franny had run upstairs to get their winter things on, since Franny had insisted that they go play together. Tami sat at the table feeding Fred while Carl was on the phone to let his boss know he’d be in late. “You and half the city,” Lip told him. “Who’s gonna commit a crime during a fuckin’ blizzard, anyway?”

“You never know what people are gonna do,” Carl said, shrugging his shoulders. Mickey silently agreed with that—he and Iggy and Colin would ride the L to the North Side in the aftermath of a bad storm sometimes, see if they could break into homes that rich fucks had left empty while they spent the winters in Florida or some bullshit. Not that he was gonna admit it to a fuckin’ cop, even one that happened to be his brother-in-law. 

“Uncle Ian! Come with me!” Franny called as she jumped down the steps two at a time, the laces of her boots coming untied. With a laugh, Debbie motioned her little girl over so she could re-tie them for Franny. Sandy scooped a big spoonful of cereal into her mouth, glancing over at the mother and daughter pair next to her. His cousin liked to talk a big game, but Mickey could tell she already had a soft spot for Franny. Her and Debbie’s relationship had been like a whirlwind, with her even moving her stuff in a week after his and Ian’s wedding, and this tended to be when Sandy started feeling trapped. Mickey knew the feeling, and he knew his cousin—he should probably talk to her at some point so she didn’t try to bolt the way she always did. Maybe in the past he’d never bothered interfering in her relationships, but he didn’t want to see Debbie hurt. And maybe he thought it’d be good for Sandy not to sabotage what seemed to be a pretty good thing, either.

“All right, Franny, I’ll come with you,” Ian agreed, tugging gently on her pigtails and making the little girl giggle. “Sandy? Debbie? You guys gonna come?”

Sandy shrugged, chewing another spoonful of cereal as she thought it over. “Sure, why not?”

“I’ll get my coat,” Ian said, then glanced over at Mickey, who was sitting in the corner and drinking his coffee. “Mick? You coming?”

Mickey shook his head. “Gotta help Debbie get some more of that Christmas shit outta the attic,” he said. Technically it wasn’t a lie—the wrapping paper was in the attic—and thank fuck Debbie backed him up.

“There’s some old Christmas dresses up there in a box, I wanna see if any of them will fit Franny. And we might have some Christmas stuff for Fred, too!” she added, looking over at Tami. “Sheila made a really cute Christmas sweater for Liam one year, I think we still have it in storage. It’d look really cute on Fred.”

Tami didn’t look entirely thrilled, but Lip nodded with a slight smile. “Yeah, I remember that one—with the fucked up looking reindeer on it, right?”

“You want to put our son in a Christmas sweater with fucked up reindeer on it?”

Lip shrugged. “His first ugly Christmas sweater. Rich people are all about that shit, aren’t they?”

As the two of them went back and forth on the subject, Mickey finished his coffee and took his mug over to the sink just as Ian passed him while pulling on his coat. He reached out and brushed his hand across Mickey’s shoulders. It was just a small touch, but it meant everything that they could have this now, openly showing affection in front of Ian’s family without anyone batting an eyelid. A far cry from the way things were when Mickey lived here the first time. When he and Ian were still an open secret, when Mickey was still terrified that anyone might find him out. But now all that happened was a sly grin from Sandy across the room, more a reminder of their conversation from the day before than anything.

Ian held his arms out and Franny came running to him; he lifted her up into the biggest bear hug he could manage and she shrieked with laughter. “Let’s go! Let’s go!” she chanted as Liam came down the stairs bundled up in a hat, coat, scarf, gloves, and boots. The three of them headed out the back door, a burst of freezing winter air making them all shiver through their sweaters in spite of the heater running full tilt.

“Okay, little red, we doing this or what?” Mickey said, and Debbie got up from the table to follow him up the steps. Once upstairs, they worked together to pull down the attic stairs, and they climbed up one at a time, Debbie turning on the light as she got to the top first.

“Wrapping paper is…right here!” she said, shoving a box towards him. He picked out a roll of green paper with a pattern of gold stars. Ian did love green, Mickey knew, so it’d be a good choice. He’d be a pretty piss-poor husband if he didn’t know Ian’s favorite color, and it wasn’t something dumb like the Santas or elves or shit he saw in the box next to the one he’d picked out. Debbie, for her part, was digging through another box until she pulled out a red sweater that looked a little big for the six-month-old Fred, but was indeed covered in fucked-up looking reindeer. “Ha! I knew we still had it,” she crowed triumphantly. “Fiona never threw away any baby clothes. I’m just glad we still had this one.”

“...those really are some fucked up deer,” Mickey said, furrowing his brow a little. “You really think Tamietti is gonna let Lip put that on her kid?”

“C’mon, Mickey, it’s Christmas,” she said with a grin. “And it’ll be hilarious to see the look on Tami’s face when Lip tells her that they’ve gotta do it. You know he will.” And yeah, Mickey knew Lip well enough by this point to agree with her on that.

“I’m gonna go get this thing wrapped before your kid gets tired and Ian’s back inside,” he said. “You done up here?”

She shook her head. “You go ahead. I’m still trying to find the Christmas dresses for Franny.”

Mickey headed back down the stairs with the wrapping paper tucked under his arm, and headed back to his and Ian’s room. As he dropped it on the floor and found the key to the gun safe, he felt a pang in his heart at the thought of Ian’s face lighting up when he saw the gift Mickey had gotten for him. It wasn’t anything special, but Debbie had assured him that Ian would love it when they’d gone looking last week and found it sitting in a back corner of the store. As he opened the gun safe, Mickey pulled out the wooden trinket, not too big but still enough that the words on it could be read.

It was shaped like a wreath—not some dumbass Christmas thing, but with the natural wood colors still showing through unpainted—and had the names and birthdays of each Gallagher sibling. He’d debated about whether to include Frank and Monica on it, but figured in the end that Ian would appreciate the inclusion of his mother, even if she was on the same level as their father for the other siblings. It was Ian’s gift, after all, so fuck what they thought. Monica was the only one with a date of death added, but her and Frank’s wedding dates—all three of them—were added beneath their names, which sat side-by-side at the top of the wreath. Under Lip’s name was Fred, and Debbie had Franny’s beneath her own. And next to Ian’s name was Mickey, his full name and date of birth burned into the wood, along with the date of their wedding underneath.

Ian’s family was the most important thing to him—Mickey knew that. He also knew that, even though it came off as a joke, Ian calling him “Mr. Gallagher” every now and again was his way of letting Mickey know that he was now, officially, part of that family as well. They’d gotten called ghetto married since Ian was seventeen and Mickey was nineteen, when Mickey was technically married to Svetlana and raising a child with her and Ian.

But now it was official, their names forever linked together both on their marriage license and in the records of the city of Chicago. Anyone could look it up and see—see that Ian and Mickey had stood up and proclaimed their love for each other, had said the words and signed the papers that told the world that they belonged together forever. And sure, maybe Ian had gotten their license framed (although it was still sitting in the back of the closet), but this would show Ian that Mickey accepted his place in Ian’s family, too. Their names burned into the wood together, with room…room for others, maybe, one day. And even if those names never came along, it’d still be all right. They had each other, and they had their family. And Mickey knew, as he clumsily wrapped the wooden wreath in the green and gold paper, that things would be all right.

#leinth writes fic #callivich #shameless #gallavich #shameless fic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #debbie gallagher #sandy milkovich #ian x mickey

[mickittotheman]

19 for the prompt game

FINALLY had time to write something for this. Hope you enjoy dear anon!

19. ...for luck

“What the fuck is all this shit?”

Ian looks up, meets Mickey’s incredulous expression with a blinding grin. “Mick! You’re home early.”

“No shit.” Mickey cocks his eyebrows higher and kicks his boots off, kicking them haphazardly towards the general direction of the closet. Normally Ian would be nagging him for it, but right now his husband is too preoccupied digging through the overstuffed trash bag of clothes on the bed to even notice. “Packing your bags on me already, Gallagher?”

Ian shoots Mickey a deadpan glare. “Please,” he scoffs, “I would at least pack my shit in a duffle bag, not some flimsy trash bag.”

Mickey lifts a hand to flip him off. Ian reaches out to snag it and drag Mickey closer, reeling him in for a slow, sappy kiss. 

Ian pulls back far too soon. “Debbie is clearing out the attic at the house because Franny wants to build a fort up there.”

“Good fucking luck with that. Pretty sure raccoons already beat her to it.”

A strange look passes over Ian’s face. He shudders before visibly shaking away whatever weird fucking memory he has involving raccoons. Mickey knows better than to ask. “Point is, she’s trying to get rid of some of the shit up there. Look! These are all the old clothes I grew out of,” he rifles through the bag again, occasionally pulling out random tees and flannels to present to Mickey. “Well, clothes Lip and I and Carl grew out of. Liam wasn’t too interested in any of these. You know how he is.”

“Least the kid has a sense of fucking style. Is this a fucking Captian America t-shirt?”

Ian glowers and snatches it out of Mickey’s hand. “Shut up. Comic books are cool,” he grumbles, and his ears just the slightest bit pink but the gleam in his eyes is pure happiness. 

Fucking dork. 

Mickey’s plans to mock him further are derailed when he catches sight of a familiar shade of blue. He reaches out. Picks it up. Shakes it out.

It’s funny, how fucking tiny it looks now, when back then Ian was practically fucking swimming in it.

“Oh, no way!”

Mickey’s breath catches, his cheeks heating up at being caught acting like a major fucking sap, but when his gaze darts up Ian is looking at a shirt that’s a truly offensive shade of green.

“I bet this can still fit,” Ian mutters, already tugging it on. “Yes!”

The seams on the thing look about ready to rip, the fabric straining around Ian’s muscles, around the little bitty belly pouch he’s been building up. 

In any other shirt, he would look hot as fuck. But in this…

“What the fuck is that?”

Ian beams at Mickey, then down at the shirt hugging his pecs, then up at Mickey again. “What? It’s funny!”

Mickey’s face conveys his disagreement far better than any words ever could. 

His gaze flits down to Ian’s chest again. To the garish green and the bold blocky letters spelling out ‘kiss me, i’m irish’. 

“The fuck does that even mean? Why would anyone wanna kiss an Irish person?”

“Ay, fuck you!” Ian laughs. “Besides, it’s supposed to be like, lucky or something. I think.”

Mickey raises a skeptical brow. “You? You’re about the unluckiest fucker I’ve ever met. You and the rest of your siblings.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk!” Ian goes to playfully shove at Mickey. Stops with his hands still on Mickey’s pecs, eyes finally catching sight of the blue flannel Mickey’s got clutched against his chest.

“What’s that?”

“Nothin’.” Mickey scowls, feeling his face flare tomato fucking red. He clenches his fingers around the fabrics even tighter. Ian squints at him suspiciously.

“Mickey,” he goads. “C’mon, babe. What is it?”

Mickey huffs.

Ian shifts his fingers down to twist his nipples through his shirt. It's a concerningly effective interrogation method.

“Fucking ow!” Mickey batts Ian’s hands away. Throws the stupid fucking flannel at him. “Jesus christ! I just fucking remember that one, or whatever.”

“This one?” Ian asks, inspecting the shirt closely, like there’s a mystery woven in the worn threads. “Why? I barely even remember it. I don’t think I wore it more often than any of my other shirts.”

Mickey looks at it again. Feels his lips tug up despite himself. Swipes at his nose. 

What the fuck ever. Not like Ian doesn't already know that Mickey’s a fucking sap.

“It’s uh. It’s the one you were wearing when you barged into my room with a fucking tire iron and a death wish.”

Ian blinks at him. Blinks at the shirt. “You remember that? Down to what I was wearing?”

“‘Course,” Mickey scoffs, like it's nothing. Like it isn’t everything.

Ian melts. Goes all goey and goopy and sticky sweet like maple syrup. “Mickey.” He drops the shirt onto the bed. Cups Mickey’s face in his big hands, pulls him in close, smushes his nose against Mickey’s hair and fucking sniffs. 

Mickey melts a bit too. Just a little. 

“Y’know, for being the unluckiest fucker you’ve ever met, I sure am feeling pretty fucking lucky right about now.”

Mickey flushes again. Rolls his eyes. Shoves him away. “Shut up.”

“What? You saying you don’t feel lucky?”

“Right now? Not even a little bit,” he grumbles, and Ian’s grin stretches infinitely wider. 

“Hmm. Maybe you oughta kiss me. Maybe some of my luck will rub off on ya.”

Mickey snorts. Giving into Ian’s tugging hands, melts into him again, melts into a long, lingering kiss. “Rather have something else rub off on me instead.”

Ian grabs Mickey’s hips. Yanks them impossibly closer. “Well, look at that,” he murmurs, smearing the words against Mickey’s lips and teeth and tongue. “It’s your lucky day.”

send me a number~

#prompt games #gallavich #my scribblings #the 'kiss me i'm irish' shirt tragically meets its end just moments later #those seams can only handle so much. and mickey and ian getting hot and heavy is SO much #they keep the blue flannel ofc

[transmurderbug]

🍂Weekly Tag Wednesday! 🍂

I'm just in time again! Thank you for the tag Evie @energievie, Nosho @creepkinginc and Ajax @transmickey 💙 and @suchagallabitch for the questions!

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

1. if you could switch bodies with anybody for only one hour who would it be and what would you do? Hmm. Maybe one of my old athlete buddies (or my younger self) so I could run/sprint again. (Plus do a few exercises from some of my favorite disciplines)

2. what's your most trivial / dumbest hot take? The society in which we live in right now should be collapsed and rebuilt completely. The way humans are living today is not how it's supposed to be

3. if you had to teach a college course what would it be in? Photography or etymology

4. season 12 of shameless is suddenly happen and youve been put in charge! what plot point(s) are you gonna make happen? Fiona finally settles with someone and goes to therapy so she doesn't self-sabotage. Lip falls into a healthy routine with his little family and finds peace. Ian and Mickey get a cat. Debbie resolves her abandonment issues and settles with Franny (and possibly with a long term girlfriend). Carl gets the Alibi running as his own bar. Liam stays the same (but goes to therapy) and finds a hobby. Kev and V raise their daughters in peace and are undisturbed and happy. Not all rainbows and sunshine of course, this all would come with a lot of pain and drama. Just because. Oh, and everyone else goes to therapy as well. (But also I would scrape it all and leave everything as it is.)

5. who would be your godly parent? (can be any mythology.) Poseidon (I would also love to ask others what they think, I'd like to hear it)

6. what’s something you love about yourself? The fact that I raised myself to be as open and understanding as possible, when my environment was in a lot of ways the opposite of those

7. describe your day in 5 emojis: 🖥️😶😴📱🐾

8. what shameless character do you think you could beat in a fight? Tommy

9. tell us 2 truths and a lie, we’ll try to guess the lie! Ohm.

I did dressage competitively

I'm 170 cm tall

I went to school for photography and dog training

(I'm so bad at this, I'm sorry)

10. do you have a pet(s). if so how did they get their name? I have a dog named Muri (it means 'spree') and a cockatiel named Pogi

11. show us a meme (or picture) that captures your essence.

12. whats your typical coffee / tea / beverage order? Iced coffee, decaf (caffeine doesn't like me), with milk and sweetener. I also like mint tea, coke and beer

13. use a song to describe the last 5 years of your life?

Huh. I thought so hard about a few of these! 0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Since - surprisingly - I'm not late with this one, I'm tagging some cool people. Play, if you want to, if not, here, have this frog 🐸 or this pebble 🪨! @stocious @dynamic-power @lupeloto @jrooc @heymrspatel @ian-galagher @deathclassic @bawlbrayker @juliakayyy @suzy-queued @crossmydna @francesrose3 @thisdivorce @look-i-love-u @deedala @depressedstressedlemonzest @metalheadmickey @gardenerian @spacerockwriting @scurvgirl @palepinkgoat and anyone who happens to see this!

#tag game wednesday #can you believe I'm on time? #I know #moo #Spotify

[scarisd3ad]

To the end and back [daryl Dixon x reader]

Chapter five - everything has changed

Masterlist

Taglist

Previous >> next

Summary - after the world ended you were sure you’d never find love again but a certain archer catches your eyes and changes the entire trajectory of your life.

A/n - Last chapter of season 1, season 2 coming soon.

Tw- death, mentions of suicide, suicidal thoughts

'Ts-19'

Season 1 ep 6

edited

tw - death, mentions of suicide, and suicidal thoughts.

It opened it actually opened, I was sure no one was in there, that not one part of the government was left. We all walk in ready to see hordes of walkers, ready for this to be a trap set by some sick fuck that broke into the CDC. "Daryl, you cover the back" Shane orders. We walk in with Rick leading the way. He's got his gun pointed forward, ready to fire "hello? Hello?" he shouts as he walks forward.

"Close those doors. Watch for walkers." We slowly walk through the building. We're all alert, ready to see a horde of infected former CDC workers but there isn't its clean and pristine there's not one drop of blood in sight it looked like the world hadn't ended. every other building I've been in since the world ended had been littered with bodies, and blood stained the walls, but this looked like how it probably looked in the old world. like it was ready to be filled with doctors and scientists trying to figure out cures for diseases in the world. "Hello?!" Then we see him, a guy, a doctor, he has light brown hair, and he looks at least in his forties. At first, we think he's a walker, so we all get ready to shoot. "Anybody infected?" The guy shouts we put down our guns. "One of our groups was...he didn't make it" Rick answers.

"Why are you here? What do you want?" The guy asks as he walks a bit closer, he sounds tired like he's ready to give up. "A chance" Rick replies breathily. "Thats asking an awful lot these days." The guy inches a bit closer. Rick shakes his head agreeing "I know." a chance is a lot to ask for, sometimes even got a hefty price on it these days.

"You all submit to a blood test. That's the price of admission." rick nods and replies "We can do that". The guy lowers his gun "you got stuff to bring in, you do it now. Once this door closes it stays closed." Some of us end up running out grabbing anything we might need.

Dale, and t-dog close the two main doors and the man says "vi, seal the main entrance. kill the power up here" the rolling door closes back. "Rick grimes" Rick says sticking his hand out "dr. Edwin jenner."

-

The elevator hums as it descends. We're packed in it like sardines. "Doctors always go around packin' heat like that?" Daryl asks referring the the large gun dr. Jenner carried. "There were plenty left lying around. I familiarized myself....but you look harmless enough." He replies. "Except you, I'll have to keep my eye on you" he says to Carl which makes Carl grin a bit.

-

We're walking down a white hallway; it reminds me of the somehow eerie hallways of a hospital. "Are we underground?" Carol asks, with her brows furrowed up in confusion. Jenner turns around "Are you claustrophobic?" Jenner asks, "a little." Carol replies "try not to think about it." He says Turning back around and continuing to walk.

"Vi, bring up the lights in the big room." Jenners voice echos as he shouts. We enter a large room with bunches, and bunches of computers. computers that are supposed to be occupied by doctors. The lights flicker on. "Welcome to zone 5."

Where is everybody? The other doctors the staff?" Rick asks confusions flooding his face. we hoped for there to be more staff, more doctors trying to figure out what the hell was going on, but it seemed like Jenner was the last one left. "I'm it...it's just me here" Jenner replies which is disappointing to most of us. "What about the person you were speaking with? Vi?" Lori asks as we all come to a stop. "Vi, say hello to our guests. Tell them...welcome." Jenner shouts.

A computerized voice comes over the overhead speakers "hello, guests. Welcome."

"I'm all that's left. I'm sorry" Jenner says as he turns around. We all get blood test. Since we haven't ate properly in the past month or two, we're all a bit woozy afterwards. I'm sitting across from Jenner watching as my blood drains into a small vile. He takes the vile out and retracts the needle. "All done" he says. I dizzily stand up from the chair. Glenn's stood behind me. He grabs both my arms stabilizing me. I've lost a lot of blood in the last few days. "You, okay?" Jenner asks. I nod slowly. "She's lost a lot of blood already; she hasn't eaten in days either. None of us have."

Jenner offers us dinner. He's got so much food and drinks. I haven't seen so much food in my entire life. We all seem happy, for the first time in the last few months. We're actually happy. We're all laughing and chitchatting like we're old friends.

"You know in Italy; children have a little bit of wine with dinner" Dale says as he hands a cup of wine to Lori. "And in France" Dale adds. "Well, when Carl is in Italy of France, he can have some then" Lori says covering up the cup that sat in front of Carl. "What's it gonna hurt? Come on" Rick says trying to persuade his wife to let there 12-year-old have some wine. Lori turns her head towards Rick with a small smile on her face "come on" Rick laughs.

"What?" Everyone's giggling as Lori shrugs. Dale hands Carl a cup with just a little bit of wine in it "there you are, young lad" Carl puts the cup up to his lips and takes a tiny sip we're all staring at carl waiting for his reaction. "Eww" Carl says as he scrunched up his face in disgust. We all burst out laughing again. I'm pretty sure we all remember our first drink and our reaction was pretty much the same as Carls.

"That's my boy. That's my boy" Lori says as she takes the cup from Carl and pours it into hers. "That tastes nasty" he says as he shakes his head. "Well, just stick to soda pop there, bud." Shane says. Glenn hasn't drunk much tonight. Probably doesn't want to be as hung over as he was this morning. I've had myself a few cups. By few I mean like five but I'm fine. "Not you, Glenn" Daryl says. Daryl's drunk as fuck. He's going to be fucked in the morning. "What?" Glenn asks raising his head, a little embarrassed that he's gotten called out. "Keep drinking, little man. I want to see how red your face can get." Daryl says which makes all the men start laughing. The clinking of glass makes us all stop and turn our attention to Rick. "It seems to me we haven't thanked our host properly." Rick says standing up. "He is more than just our host." T-dog says raising his glass.

"Hear hear!"

"Here's to you, doc. Booyah!" Daryl says raising the bottle of wine he had been drinking out of.

Booyah!"

"Thank you, doctor." Rick says quietly. "So, when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here, doc?" Shane asks. Which subsequently makes everyone's smiles fade. "All the uh..other doctors that were supposed to be figuring out what happened, where are they?"

"We're celebrating, Shane don't need to do this now" Rick hisses as he sits back down. "Whoa, wait a second. This is why we're here, right? This was your move—supposed to find all the answers, instead we uh..we found him" Shane chuckles as he points towards Jenner. "Found one man. Why?"

"Well when things got bad, a lot of people just left, went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, when the uh military cordon go overrun, the rest bolted." Jenner explains. "Every last one?" Shane asks as he sinks down in his chair a bit. "No, many couldn't face walking out the door. They...opted out. There was a rash of suicides" that definitely killed the mood. What Jenner just said confirmed my suspicions, this was never going to end. We were just going to have to adapt, adapt to this new harsh reality, adapt to the monsters that have now taken over. If we didn't then we're dead. There was no end to this shit, this was just how we were going to have to live. One day hopefully when we get used to it we can have normalcy, homes, families, pets, but not now we have to learn first. Learn how to survive, learn how to live in this new world, learn how to live amongst the monsters, if we didn't, we'd never live.

"That was a bad time." Jenner whispers solemnly "You didn't leave, why" Andrea asks. "I just kept workin', hoping..to do some good."

"Dude, you are such a buzzkill, man" Glenn groans.

-

Once we were finished with dinner Jenner shows us around. We follow him down a hallway "most of the facility is powered down. Including housing, so you'll have to make do here." Jenner explains. "The couches are comfortable, but there are cots in storage if you like. There a rec room down the hall that you kids might enjoy." Jenner turns around addressing Carl, and Sophia. "Just don't plug in the video games, okay?" Both kids nod. "Or anything that draws power. The same applies—if you shower, go east on the hot water." Jenner says before turning back around and leaving, Glenn turns to all of us eyes widened "hot water?"

"That's what the man said" t-dog says with a laugh.

I decide to take a shower. I haven't had one in so long; I can't even remember the last time I washed my hair. Yeah, at times we'd go and bathe in the quarry but that was only sometimes.

The hot water feels like heaven. I'm so glad I had collected up shower supplies just hoping one day I'd be able to have a normal shower. I haven't shaved my legs in God knows how long. it's not like I miss having to shave my legs every day, but I do miss the feeling of bare legs under freshly warmed sheets. I miss the soft feeling of my legs after lotion. I miss the aspect of life that us as humans wouldn't think we'd miss. Things we found a hassle at the time but now we long for it. Like washing clothes, or dishes. At the time I hated slaving over the sink washing each dish, but now I miss it.

I shave my legs, and arms just to feel like the world was normal again. I'm sure I spend at least 2 minutes just smelling at the bottle of shampoo that smelt like strawberries and cream. I'm sure I stunk of sweat beforehand, I'm sure we all did. But we eventually didn't smell it our brains tricked us into not smelling it like our brains makes it seem like we can't see our nose even though we can.

-

I find myself a room to settle into, it's an office but it's got a couch so that's fine. I pull my blanket out of the bag I had brought in it's not clean and kind of smells like wood and fire, but it's a blanket.

Knock, knock, knock.

I sigh as I walk over to the door and unlock it. It's Daryl stumbling over his words like he's trying to practice what to say. His eyes widened as he sees me. "I- um I really fuckin' like ya" I peek out the hallway to see Glenn, and t-dog peeking out from behind a corner. All three are drunk (I'm probably just as equally drunk but we're not going to talk about it). "You like me?" I ask raising my eyebrows teasingly. I don't know when I started liking Daryl, I was scared of him for the longest time, but when did that fear turn into adoration. Maybe when he stayed with me when I was hurt in Atlanta. Maybe when he gave me that package of ramen noodles. "Yeah, I really f-fuckin' like you" I smile as he slurs his words. "I like you too Daryl" I whisper as I place my hand on his cheek and lean in kissing him. He wraps his arms around waist pulling me closer. I can hear Glenn and t-dog trying to quietly celebrate down the hall (there not, there actually really loud) I pull away my hand still on his cheek. He's blushing, it's kind of cute seeing a man so big, and tough be flustered. "You wanna come inside?" I ask he nods rapidly, and I pull him in closing the door behind us.

What I've learned is that drunk Daryl and sober Daryl, are two completely separate people. Drunk Daryl is way more open about his feelings, softer, nicer too.

-

I wake up in the middle of the night my body halfway on top of Daryl. He's got his arms wrapped around me while he's snoring quietly. We were lucky this couch was able to fit the both of us. I lay my head back against his bare chest and listen to his heartbeat.

The next time I wake up is when Daryl wakes up.

We're both sat on the couch, discussing what had happened last night. "So do you really like me, or was it like something Glenn and t-dog made you say?" I whisper. His brows furrow as he looks at me "it wasn' a lie. I wouldn' lie bout somethin' like that." I nod as I inch closer to him. "Do ya really like me?" He asks I nod. "Yeah, I really like you" he smiles, I've never really seen him smile much. He's always got this stone-cold serious look on his face, but not now.

He leans in close and presses a kiss to my lips. After a while of just sitting soaking up each other's company we get up and head to the kitchen area. Almost everyone's already there, I guess it's a little harder to estimate what time it is being underground and all. Glenn's moaning and groaning about his hangover which makes me laugh. He probably drank more than he'd even drank in his life yesterday.

The rest want answers about the walkers, what's causing it, and shit like that so Jenner takes us back to the big room with the computers. I don't wanna know much about them, I like to know as little as I can, if I know too much it makes me paranoid. I'm happy living my life just trying to avoid them at all costs. He presses a few buttons and then says, "give me playback of ts-19."

"Playback of ts-19"

The big screen in front of us starts to show a video of a brain "few people ever got a chance to see this. Very few." Jenner says. "Is that a brain?" Carl asks, "an extraordinary one...not that it matters in the end." Replies Jenner.

"Take us in for e.i.v" Jenner says. "Enhanced internal view" the video then zooms in. We watch as we get closer and closer into the brain until we see the neurons. "What are those lights?" Shane asks. "It's a person's life..experiences, memories. It's everything. Somewhere in all that organic wiring, all those ripples of light, is you, the thing that makes you unique. And human." Explains Jenner.

"You don't make sense ever" Daryl says. "Those are synapses, electric impulses in the brain that carry all the messages. They determine everything a person says, does or thinks from the moment of birth to the moment of death."

"Death? That's what this is, a vigil?" Rick asks as he approaches Jenner. "Yes" Jenner says "or rather the playback of the vigil." We all watch the screen so interested in what Jenner is saying as well as the neurons. "This person died. Who?" Andrea asks "test subject 19. Someone who was bitten, and infected...and volunteered to have us record the process."

"Vi, scan forward to the first event."

"Scanning to first event."

It zooms back out and fasts forward. the brain stem begins to darken. "What is that?" Glenn asks "it invaded the brain like meningitis. The adrenal glands hemorrhage, the brain goes into shutdown, then the major organs." The brain goes completely dark. They died. "Then death" Jenner whispers to himself. "Everything you ever were or ever will be..gone."

"Is that what happened to Jim?" Sophia asks "yes" her mother replies nodding. It's what happened to Jim, Amy, my brother, and possibly us one day too.

Andrea tries to blink back tears, but it just doesn't work "she lost somebody two days ago. Her sister." Lori explains to Jenner who is looking at her with his brows furrowed together.

"I lost somebody too. I know how devastating it is." Jenner says to Andrea. it is truly devastating, losing someone to this, watching them slowly lose their lives and then become the very monster that took it from them. "Scan to the second event!" Jenner shouts to vi as he walks away from Andrea.

"Scanning to second event."

"The resurrection times vary wildly. We have reports of it happening in as little as three minutes. The longest we heard of was eight hours. In the case of this patient, it was two hours, one minute...seven seconds."

The brain stem flickers back on. "It restarts the brain?" Lori asks. "No just the brain stem basically, it gets them up, and moving." Jenner says it just brings back the basic part like walking, biting, grabbing but not the human part. "But they're not alive?" Rick asks. Jenner walks back to rick pointing up to the screen "you tell me." Rick shakes his head "it's nothing like before. Most of that brain is dark."

"Dark, lifeless, dead. The frontal lobe, the neocortex, the human part that doesn't come back. The you part. Just a shell driven by mindless instinct." Then something goes straight through its brain. "God. What was that?" Carol asks, "he shot his patient in the head, didn't you?" Andrea asks.

"Vi power down the main screen and the workstations."

"Powering down main screen, and workstations"

The lights shut off. "You have no idea what it is, do you?" Andrea asks as she walks towards Jenner. "It could be microbial, viral, parasitic, fungal" he doesn't know. No one does. There's not going to be a cure we're just going to have to suck it up and learn to live this way because life will never go back to what it used to be.

"Or the wrath of god?" Jacqui asks. "There is that." Maybe it was the wrath of God, or Mother Nature, or maybe our time was just up. Maybe human lives time was up, just like the dinosaurs. "Somebody must know something. Somebody somewhere" in times like this when I know I'm destined to die, and I just want to go back. Maybe do something different, maybe it's my fault I'm stuck in this situation. Maybe I did something as a kid to deserve this. I wish I got bit in the early days, died, became one of the walkers in the city because this is hell. Trying to survive, but also keep some kind of normalcy was hell. I don't know what day it is, or the time I'm just going on day to day, an empty shell of the person I used to be. I'm no longer that bright lively person, and I know it. how can you when you're living through the apocalypse. I'm not truly happy I'll never be, not anymore, I don't think I can. No matter how many people I have around me, how many of those I love are around me, I'll always think about the people I left behind, my roommate, my brother, my granddad. They're all dead, they're lucky they got the easy way out. I wish I did too.

"There are others, right? Other facilities?" Carol asks. "There may be some. People like me." Jenner replies. "But you don't know? How can you not know?" Rick asks. "Everything went down. Communications, directives, all of it I've been in the dark for almost a month." Jenner explains. "So, it's not just here. There's nothing left anywhere? Nothing? That's what you're really saying right?" We came here for no reason, we came for answers, and Jenner had none.

Andrea scoffs, we're all finally realizing this is not going to end. "Jesus" Jacqui mutters. "Man, I'm gonna get shitfaced drunk..again" Daryl says as he leans himself against a cubicle "dr. Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you, and I hate to ask one more question but...that clock it's counting down. What happens at zero?" The clock is at 59 minutes. "The...basement generators they run out of fuel." He seems uncertain or as if he's lying. He's not telling us the full truth, and I know that. Jenner begins to walk around "and then?" Rick asks. Jenner doesn't answer he just walks away. "Vi what happens when the power runs out?" Rick asks.

"When the power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur."

-

I sit in the office I had claimed as my sleeping quarters the previous night. Facility wide decontamination. Decontamination, we're going to die. The doors won't open back up that's what Jenner said at the beginning, once they shut, they aren't opening back up. So, if we wanted to leave, we can't. We'll have to die. And I'm fine with it. I'm fine with dying, I'm not sure if I even want to live this life anymore.

The air conditioner has shut off.

I'm becoming more and more comfortable with the thought of dying. If I died, I wouldn't have to do this anymore, I don't want to do this anymore.

The lights shut off next. There's not much time left. Am I convincing myself I'm ready to die or am I really ready to die. I don't really have an option anymore, do I? So, I shouldn't think about it. If I think about it, I'll panic, so I should just not think about it. If I don't think about it will be fast, without any struggle, or crying just death in a flash.

I can hear everyone in the hallways asking what's happening. They're probably talking to Jenner. I'm staying curled up on the couch, I'm not moving.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Come in" I say meekly.

The door opens, and in comes Glenn. "Come on" I look up at him brows furrowed. "I want to stay in here" he sighs "come on just..please come with me" I begrudgingly get up and follow Glenn into the big room where everyone else is. Everyone's confused, and scared.

"Jenner, what's happening?" Rick asks as he power walks after Jenner. "The system is dropping all the nonessential use of power. It's designed to keep the computers running to the last possible second. That started as we approached the half-hour mark. Right on schedule"

31 minutes 28 seconds.

Jenners got a bottle of alcohol in his hands which Daryl snatches from him. "It was that French" I furrow my brows "what?" Andrea asks "they were the last ones to hold out as far as I know while our people were bolting out the doors, and committing suicide in the hallways, they stayed in the labs till the end. They thought they were close to a solution." Jenner answers. He begins to walk father away from us "what happened?" Jacqui asks. "Same thing that's happening here. No power grid. Ran out of juice." Jenner explains. "The world runs on fossil fuel. I mean, how stupid is that?" Jenner says with a chuckle before turning back around. "Let me tell you-" Shane says trying to run after Jenner. Rick grabs at Shane "to hell with it Shane. I don't even care."

Rick turns towards his wife "Lori, grab our things, everybody, get your stuff. We're getting out of here now!" Rick shouts most of us start scattering when an alarm starts blaring "what's that?" Shane asks.

"30 minutes to decontamination" vi says.

Jenner walks over to a desk "doc, what's going on here!" Daryl shouts. "Everybody y'all heard Rick. Get your stuff, and let's go! Go now! Go!" Shouts Shane. Just when everyone was about to run out the door shuts.

"Did-did you just lock us in?!" Glenn stammered out. Jenner sits down not answering Glenn. "He just locked us in!" Glenn shouts fearfully. Everyone else begins to run back towards Jenner.

"Carl!"

"Mom!"

Daryl begins to run up to Jenner angrily. "You son of a bitch." Daryl barks as he sprints at Jenner. "Shane! Shane!" Rick shouts. Shane chases after Daryl "you locked us in here!" Shouts Daryl as he grabs onto Jenner. "No, stop don't!"

"You lying—"

"No, no, no, no!" Shane says as he pulls Daryl away. "Wait, no! No, don't do it." Shane and t-dog has to hold Daryl back as he angrily punches and tries to wiggle out of their grip. Rick marches up to Jenner "hey, Jenner, open that door now." Rick demands.

I'm leaning against one of the desks my face buried in my hands with my fingers spread so I can still see what's going on. "There's no point. Everything topside is locked down. The emergency exits are sealed." Jenner replies. "We'll open the damn things!" Shouts Dale.

I can't talk, I won't talk to anyone if I do, I'll cry, and I'll change my mind on being okay with dying. "That's not something I control. The computers do. I told you once that front door closed, it wouldn't open again. You heard me say that." Everyone else is stressing, carol especially she doesn't want her little girl to die this young. She wants Sophia to have a life, live a long life even during this mess. "It's better this way" Jenner says. Rick turns his head towards Jenner a little offended "what is? What happens in 28 minutes?" Rick says through his teeth as he walks closer to Jenner. Jenner doesn't answer just begin to type away at his computer. Shane begins to walk up. I guess he could see some tic in Rick because one second later he's shouting, "what happens in 28 minutes!"

Jenner stands up "you know what this place is?! We protected the public from very nasty stuff! Weaponized smallpox! Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! Stuff you don't want getting out! Ever!" Jenner shouts in both Shane and ricks faces before sitting back down. "In the event of a catastrophic power failure—in a terrorist attack, for example H.I.T.s are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out." Jenner explains. Rick walks over to Jenner "H.I.T.s?" Jenner doesn't want to explain so he shouts to vi "vi, define."

"H.I.T.S high-impulse thermobaric fuel-air explosives, consist of a two-stage aerosol ignition that produces a blast wave of significantly greater power, and duration than any other known explosive except nuclear. The vacuum-pressure effect ignites the oxygen at between 5,000, and 6,000 degrees, and is useful when the greatest loss of life and damage to structures is desired."

"It sets the air on fire no pain." Jenner says. Carol is crying while holding her daughter close. "An end to sorrow, grief...regret......everything." Jenner whispers. He's right, this is the best way to die, death is almost instant. It's an end to all the grief, and sadness I've felt since the moment this thing started.

-

Daryl's throwing shit at the door trying to...I don't know break it? "Open the damn door!" Daryl shouts. I stare at my feet, what was there to live for anymore? "Out of my way!" Shouts Shane before he hurdles towards the door with an axe. It makes a noise similar to when you run your fingers nails down a chalk board. Blugh, it makes me want to puke. Both Daryl and Shane are pounding these pickaxes maybe regular axes I don't even know anymore. But they're just hitting, and hitting, and hitting, and all I want to do is curl into a tiny ball, and cry. My brain isn't working, and sound is starting to blur, fizzle out as I stare at my feet.

There was no need to live anymore, we were just going to be stuck in this mess of a world anyways. So why not die right now? Why does everyone but me want to get out? Is something wrong with me specifically? Am I just that fucked up in the head, that I don't want a second chance at life? I'm ready..but I'm not at the same time. Every time I convince myself I'm ready I just begin to think about what I could have in the future, but then I think about what I could've had, then I'm right back at the beginning. I don't want to live my life in constant fear of getting bitten, I don't want to live in the constant cycle of grief, and regret.

I'm not paying attention to anything that's happening. I'm ready, I'm ready. I keep telling myself that. I'm re-

"Come on, hey y/n he opened the door." Glenn snaps me out of the trance I was in. I shake my head "it's for the better" I whisper. Glenn furrows his eyebrows "what?" I let out a shaky breath "I-I don't want to live like this anymore Glenn, I want to stay" he shakes his head. "No, no I'm not leaving you here! I don't care I'm not leaving you here." He says I shake my head again. "I don't want to go" I whisper "I love you y/n, I can't just leave you here." I don't reply.

"Daryl!" He shouts waving him over. He runs over kneeling down next to me. "She doesn't want to leave, help me convince her to leave." Glenn whispers. I shake my head. I don't want to leave, I want to die. "We don' have time" Daryl says picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder. I kick and punch at Daryl begging him to let me stay but he doesn't do anything.

"Let me go Daryl" I cry "I want to stay."

We end up stopping at the door. "Hey, we've got four minutes left! Come on!" Shouts Glenn. "Daryl please, please, please. Leave me" I sob. "No, no, no m'not doin' that" he mutters. I can barely hear anything over my thoughts.

You need to stay. You need to stay. You need to stay. it was like a virus infecting my brain telling me that I needed to die.

Then we're running again. That's what snaps me out again. The only thing I notice is that dales, Andrea, and Jacqui are staying. If dales staying, I want to stay too, but Daryl won't let go. He's got a tight grip on me, that I can't wiggle out of.

We're going upstairs, and then we're on the top floor. I'm placed on the ground as Daryl, and Shane try to break through the windows. It won't work. This is a government building the windows are only able to break if there's an explosion. It won't break for axes, chairs, or gun fire.

"The glass won't break?!" Cries Sophia. "Rick, I have something that might help!" Carol says running up to Rick as she dug into the bag she held in her hands. "Carol, I don't think a nail files gonna do it." Carol ignores Shane's misogyny and continues to talk to Rick. "Your first morning at camp, when I washed your uniform, I found this in your pocket." She says showing Rick a grenade.

Rick takes it from her, and everyone begins to take cover.

"Oh shi—"

Boom.

The windows broken. I'm still set on staying. I'm hoping Glenn, and Daryl will forget about me and leave me here. "Come on" Daryl's kneeled down next to me. I shake my head. "No, I want to die Daryl why can't you just let me die" I cry. "God dammit women ya can't just do this to me" he mutters before picking me back up and throwing me over his shoulder again. I'm being stupid, and stubborn I know, but why can't he just leave me here. I already said I want to die.

We're running towards the cars. Rick, and Shane shooting at walkers at the same time. The bomb definitely was bringing a bunch, so we had to hurry.

We make it to the cars unscathed. Daryl places me in the passenger side of his truck instead of the SUV I was originally in with Rick, and his family. We brace for impact.

3, 2, 1. Boom.

I think it's the most fire I've ever seen in my life. Jacqui's dead, but Dale, and Andrea made it out. Jacqui was a sweet lady. She cared for everyone even people who had wronged her. She didn't deserve to die, but she just ran out of hope. Hope, how can we have hope when we're going through this.

Previous >> next

Taglist

@e1d0lonk3k @soul4death @furiousheartpoetry @silicone-bonez @nezukos-number1fan

#fanfics #x reader #the walking dead season 1 #the walking dead #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon #glenn rhee #Lori grimes #Rick grimes #Carl grimes #zombie apocalypse #zombie #female!reader #fem!reader