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thesoggyraincloud · 8 months

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Catching her Chapter 6 (7)

/ Daryl Dixon x OC // Merle Dixon X OC (platonic)

Season 1-3 // THE QUARRY

word count: 4421

Updated

Instead of the comforts of a viable society, she had gotten two rednecks. They had arrived in a whirlwind a week after the initial incident. And a day after Quinn had run out of food.

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Lil AI visualisation of Quinn and Daryl hunting :D not a fan of ai art but i like it imitation of real people

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The days had been long and arduous for the small group. The repetition of scavenging fuel and driving from farm to farm was futile, quickly they became overcome by exhaustion and frustration. The hot Georgian sun did nothing to soothe their troubles. So when Daryl suggested heading to a nearby creek even Merle, who had set himself up as the group's de facto leader, agreed.

“If we take one of the off roads by the Jefferson farm we can avoid using the highway.” Quinn looked up from the map at the two men who were busy packing their things into the bed of the truck.

“Jeffersons have too many cattle gates, I'm not stopping and getting outta the damn’ truck every five goddamn minutes.” Merle slammed a bag down onto the metal, wiping away the sweat on his furrowed brow. Focusing on Quinn and looking at her with scorn.

“They left those gates open when shit went down, hell all the farmers probably did.” Daryl was turned away from Merle, but he could feel the glare Merle sent boring into him. Letting out a long breath he rubbed his face, looking at Quinn for a moment before facing his brother.

“What way do you suggest we go?” Merle's face turned a deep shade of red in anger, and he rushed up to his brother and stared him down.

“Why don't you take your goddamn high heels off and go look at the map Darylina.” He pointed to Quinn and continued.

“Maybe Her Royal Highness can do some actual work for once.”

“I am doing work, finding a way for us to get to the creek. The only other damn way to get there is by foot or on the highway so which do you wanna do?” The woman got up from her seat, pulling the map in front of her and waving it. Merle snatched it from her hands, pushing it straight into Daryls. Quinn sent him an apologetic look.

“Then we’re walkin’.” His reply was short and blunt. Neither bothered to argue any further, choosing to just pack a bag and swallow down their grievances. The three of them quickly headed out deeper into the woodland.

The canopy of the woods provided enough shelter from the sun and cast an array of shadows across the path. Quinn had her eyes trained on it in hopes of catching some tracks. Daryl had joined her further back from Merle, both enjoying the periodical silence from the man.

They had passed the Jefferson farm half a mile back and sure enough, the gates had been left open. Quinn made sure to give Merle a pointed look, brow cocked up in an ‘I told you so’ manner., Much to Daryl's amusement, and then to his greater joy, Merle had nothing to say other than storming further ahead.

He absorbed himself into Quinn's smile as he watched, her creased eyes and her vibrant energy feeding him. Subconsciously mapping her out inside his head. He felt uncomfortable and overwhelmed, snatching his gaze back down to the floor, locking his eyes to the dry carpet of grass and twigs below him.

“You got family waitin’ for you out there?” Daryl looked at her shyly and her face faltered slightly before it picked up into a weak smile. She laughed slightly and shook her head, no. Daryl felt a flash of guilt for a minute, a pregnant pause before she spoke.

“I’ve been on my own for a while, but I guess maybe my uncle.” She spoke carefully and Daryl noticed, his gut feeling calling to him.

“No folks?” He thought for a second,

“Didn’t you say your old man taught you to hunt?” a strain bolted through his chest.

“I don’t talk about my father. Haven't seen that asshole in years.” Her face became unreadable to him like she’d been carried away by some unknown force. Somewhere he felt like he couldn’t reach her. And the moment started to sour.

“What, didn’t get you the Porsche you wanted?” Daryl had scrambled for something to say, and he felt himself inwardly cringe at the statement. Uncomfortable laughter filling the momentary silence until he pulled a few steps away. She laughed but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. She was back though, from wherever she’d disappeared to.

“What about your parents? I don't see you driving a Porsche either.” Daryl felt a little hollow at the thought of his family, he didn't like to admit it but his parents had left him with more than physical scars. Sleepless nights filled with dreams clouded in smoke reminded him of the fact.

“My Mom died when I was a kid, my dad went when the world fell to shit. It's just been me and Merle mostly. Sometimes Lyn would take care of us when she was still around.” His mouth felt dry and he hoped Merle wasn't listening to them. But the older Dixon was much further ahead, still working off his rage from earlier.

“It was a fire that got my Mom, you could see the damn smoke from halfway across town. Everyone was talking about it, hell it was a goddamn mess, Merle was gone at the time.” Quinn looked down, avoiding Daryl's eyes. He felt colder at her reaction, anticipating the sting of blooming rejection.

“I'm sorry about your mom.” Daryl felt his gut twist harder until she went on.

“I Get it, in a small Way. My folks are gone too.” She took a deep breath before continuing.

“I was 12 when I went to live with my Godparents. But we didn't get on. I haven't seen them in years.” Daryl felt guilty to be relieved by her admission, another part of him cherishing it.

“I guess the people that went before the end are the lucky ones, they don't have to see the world go to shit.” Quinn filled the momentary silence and Daryl hummed in agreement.

Even with both staring at the floor, unable to face one another, they’d almost missed the tracks in front of them. Deep and fresh darting sharply across the path. Daryl identified it as rabbit tracks before he’d shown her, but kept quiet, for Quinn. Waiting with apprehension to see if his lessons were paying off. Her brow furrowed, eyes narrowing in concentration as she thought. The light sway of the canopy's shadows danced across her skin in the breeze, Catching Daryl's eye as he patiently waited for Quinn's answer. Sneaking small glances her way as she focused.

“It’s a rabbit, probably a big one based on the depth of them ?” The last part came out unsure and she looked to Daryl for confirmation.

The younger Dixon wanted to say more but instead, He nodded to her, bending down to show her a second and third set of tracks hidden further in the underbrush, a smaller one, a female and perhaps an older kit based on the time of year. Quinn gratefully accepted the information, a serious expression marked her face as she tried to commit it to memory.

“Hold back lil bro,'' Merle called from ahead, disturbing the peaceful moment.

He had stopped about 40 ft in front of them, on the edge of the hill. Scanning the expanse that contained the Quarry below. His face was stern, mind deep in thought for a minute before backing away from the hill and lightly jogging towards the waiting pair.

“Looks like there's a group at the Quarry, Buncha city folks from the looks of it.” He scowled, and Daryl joined him. Worried about whatever plan Merle was currently forming.

“I say we head down and make ourselves friendly, We’ve not seen anyone since we’ve been on the road.” Quinn looked at him as he spoke, Daryl felt her questioning gaze and ignored it.

Merle shuffled in place, fidgeting with the handgun by his side. A small smile grew on his face that made Daryl's concern skyrocket. It was the same look he’d seen a million times since they were kids. A look that meant Daryl was going to have to follow along with whatever plan Merle had thrown together and either stop it or mitigate the harm.

“Sure we say hello, Maybe they got some broads hiding down there. It's damn time I had some fun. BUT.” And he paused for a second, letting the silence stagnate in the afternoon heat for a moment before continuing.

“The first chance we get, We're taking their damn shit and leaving.”

—---------------

The three had quickly headed to the Quarry, Quinn filled with worry. Each step felt like a nail in the coffin. And when they finally met with these strangers the feeling only grew, making her feel stifled and uneasy.

‘Shane’ greeted them first, gun in hand and a scowl scratched across his face. Dale was close behind him, the more reasonable of the two. Allowing them a chance to explain their intrusion on the small community. Quinn had kept noticeably quiet, a step behind Daryl looking over his shoulder to the scene commencing before her.

Shane kept a close watch on the three as Daryl explained their abilities in tracking and other skills. She felt a little ill watching the show he was performing, executing his lies perfectly. Just the way Merle told him to. An offering to share their knowledge with the inhabitants and other false promises eventually won the approval of Dale. Who she noted was at least smart enough to agree with Shane, they wouldn't be trusted just yet.

They worked on blending into the group, as best as they could. Quinn had tried her hardest to connect with people over the following weeks but found herself feeling wracked with guilt every time she did. The knowledge of the impending betrayal too much to look past for her. The few people she could interact with left her yearning for her pills and the familiar ease they granted her. Like they replenished her ability to connect, one that she’d long since burned through. Her eyes looked to her shaking hands and quickly shoved them into her pockets, the extra tension on her jeans hugging her.

She felt Lori’s eyes on her, creeping up her neck. Shane would be staring too, wherever he was, tucked away from her view. They were always following her. Stares filled with such disdain when their son got too close, acutely aware of just what she was.

“Hey Quinn, Get over here!” Amy waved to her from the small beach by the water where the other women had gathered. Breaking the tension and allowing Quinn to leave the couple's domain.

“Good morning. How's it going?” She headed down the slight incline to the beach. Once at the bottom, she gave Amy a thankful smile. Grateful for the younger girl and her naivety. Lending needed reprieve from the judgement she felt from some of the other campers.

“It’s going good, got most of the east covered. Be done in a few days.” Quinn announced to the waiting ladies, Jaqui and Miranda giving a small smile in greeting. She felt their eyes dart around anywhere but at the ladies. Her clothes started to feel heavier, and more restricting. Like her skin was too tight.

“It’s gotta be scary going out alone like that?” Amy asked, face washed with concern as she looked at Quinn.

“S’Nothing, Just putting a few traps isn’t gonna catch a walker but will probably get us some dinner if we’re lucky,” she said, looking down at the stony floor.

“Andrea’s going to try and teach me how to fish.” Amy leaned in closer when she said it, an almost sarcastic cry on her lips.

“I just hope she’s a better fisherman than Carl, that poor kid has been trying to catch a frog since we got here.” Her laughter was joined by the other ladies, who took joy in teasing the young boy.

“I’ll have to ask Daryl to borrow a spare flashlight, Maybe we should help the kid.” Jaqui snorted at Quinn's words, adding to them.

“If Lori would let you near him, she's had him on lockdown with Sophia since you Dixons arrived,” Jaqui spoke kindly, even if her words cut. Miranda rolled her eyes, tutting something to herself in Spanish.

“Like I would want my kids around that Ed, Lori’s got it all wrong, but it's no wonder when she spends half her time in the woods.” Miranda let out a curt laugh at the end, sarcasm coating her words.

“What's she even doing out there anyway?” Amy asked, which sent the whole group into another chorus of laughter. Amy’s confused face only added fuel.

“Don't worry about it.” Miranda cut Jaqui off from explaining, giving her a sharp look and a small kick to the foot.

The women around her carried on their conversation with one another as she let her mind wander. And as it did most days since they arrived at the Quarry she thought about the Dixon brothers. They had been regularly leaving on hunts, going out alone together and returning at strange hours. Furious whispers from both passed between them in an unintelligible argument around their campfire. Separate from everyone else’s. There was a knotted tension in her stomach and like that first night in the City, she wondered if they were planning to leave her behind too.

After some time basking in the sunrise, she left the women behind once everyone else started to wake. Returning to her camp and waiting. When the boys had finally returned from their ‘hunting’ trip, Merle robbed their small encampment of peace by delving straight into the tent, swearing in a fit of rage. Minutes later his exit was followed by the click of a lighter and the smell of burnt chemicals filling the air. Quinn probed the familiar ache in her chest, the poignant air reaching her nose making her hands itch and her feet bounce. Daryl appeared from the edge of the woods a minute later, red in the face with heavy footfalls stomping across the distance.

“You ok?” The words were forced from her mouth, falling out too quickly and high-pitched. She cringed.

It was like he’d only just realised her presence, looking at her. She saw his widened eyes and the panic that was written in them, face flushed with sweat. Until it was gone, replaced by his signature scowl.

“M’Fine.” He grumbled. She stared at him, studying his face for some explanation.

“Bullshit.” She let her bitterness seep through to her words.

“God Dammit woman!” His whole body tensed and she prepared herself for the battle that was to ensue. But it didn't come. Instead, he rubbed his hands into his face, turning away from her and towards the tent. She couldn't see his face anymore but his shoulders started to relax and she wondered if it was safe to speak yet.

“I’m going back out, I found us a deer trail.” Daryl still didn't turn towards her, his frame haloed by the white glow of the morning sun. “You get your shit, we're leaving in 20.”

Despite the neglect she felt from him over the past week, she happily accepted the opportunity to spend some time away from the camp. She hopped out of her seated position and bee-lined it towards her bag, which had stayed packed and ready.

“Merle comin?” She inquired, pausing halfway towards her tent.

“No, he’s going out with the group to Atlanta ” Despite her surprise she didn't question it, a small part of her was glad he would be absent from the trip.

—------------------------------------

The forest was flooded with life, just not the kind that could be hunted. The younger Dixon had grown deeply more frustrated as time went on. Quinn stayed silent alongside him since they left the encampment and it only made his unease worse. Her continued silence was a mark of disapproval that he couldn't shake. He knew robbing these folks wasn't right. He’d tried to bide his time with Merle, but trying to convince the stubborn mule was growing ever more impossible. He had grown depressed at the thought that for the first time in his life, he reached an impasse where he felt like he had an option that as devastating as it was, meant more than picking Merle, his blood.

And then Quinn. Who wasn't a complete part of the group but also wasn't his blood. She would want him to make the right choice. He’d seen her talking with the women in the group, even seen her talking to Glenn and her guilty eyes said all he needed to hear. He had also grown to, in a small way, care for the community around him and he felt his own eyes reflecting that same guilt.

“Daryl, Look.” She said, pointing to some deer scat and further up some visible tracks.

He pulled himself out of his thoughts, studying the trail. Moving his shocked eyes back to her.

“Good girl, I almost missed ‘em.” Her entire face stiffened and for a second Daryl thought he had said something wrong, until she offered him a smile, looking to the floor and thanking him quickly.

“If we move fast, we might be able to catch it before morning.” And with that, he pushed himself further up the trail leaving Quinn to catch up.

The Dixons' frustration was back in full force by the time the two had set up a makeshift camp late into the night. The deer was elusive, seemingly right in front of them at some points but invisible to the hunter and his companion.

“We’ll catch her, don't stress yourself out.” She said, polishing some of his arrows. Holding them near the flames of the fire to catch glimpses of her distorted reflection.

He grunted in response to her, working on skinning one of the many squirrels bound across his chest. The two continued in the silence that had marinated between them all day until the man felt like he was suffocating under it.

“You trust those people?” He knew he was putting her on the spot with his question, looking straight to her for an answer.

“No. And they sure as hell still don't trust us.” She spoke quickly, Movements a little harsher now than before. Daryl looked at her, head tilted waiting for her to continue.

“But I think most of them are good people, I'm not a fan of officer asshat and his girlfriend though.” the younger Dixon gave a nod to the girl, agreeing with her before adding.

“Dale told me Lori’s husband died, Shanes was his best damn friend.” The man sniggered at the end, finishing with the squirrel and adding it to the fire. Turning another round slightly to cook it evenly.

He pulled out his bag and from it, a large bottle of whisky, waiting for her reply while taking a long swig from it. It burned the back of his throat sending warmth into his chest, it felt good against the cool summer evening. He passed the bottle to Quinn quickly after.

“Damn, figured she was too uptight for something so illicit. Kinda makes me like her more.” She smiled and tipped the bottle up to her lips. Daryl watched her face contort in disgust for a second, before going back to a large grin.

“Dumb bitch acts like we’re gonna rob her.” He vented, Lori's dislike of the three had been open and clear from the moment they had turned up to camp. And he justified that they hadn't done anything warranting suspicion.

“But we are, Right?” The hunter grew uncomfortable under her gaze, the spotlight on him blinding. He knew he’d eventually have to talk to her about it. But the weight on his chest at the thought of betraying Merle grew heavy. Would he think he was a pussy? Would she?

Quinn hesitantly brought the bottle to her lips one last time and passed it to him. Who sat in a stoic silence, thinking over his options.

“No” he pulled the cooked squirrel off the fire. Aggressively shoving it towards her before standing up, “I gotta take a piss.”

Daryl thought he hadn’t needed the approval of his brother for a long time, but for the first time in his life, he truly didn't care. Merle could call him a pussy, or that stupid damn nickname forever if he wanted. He ground his foot into the ground by the base of the tree he had found, forcefully pulling up his fly and taking a deep breath. He had someone more to think about now than just Merle and himself, a whole group of people relying on him to keep them fed and safe. He didn't want to let them down or keep seeing the guilt that iced over her eyes.

When he headed back Quinn was already eating the last of her squirrel while keeping a dedicated eye on his, turning it a half inch every few minutes. He observed her from his place at the edge of the small clearing and felt something in his chest burn, in the kind of way his numbed hands did under the fire's warmth after long hours shovelling snow. And his lips wavered into a small smile, if only for a second. Then she looked out into the dark in his direction, and he felt like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn't be.

When they finally decided to rest, He insisted on staying up first to keep watch. Promising Quinn that he’d wake her up when he needed to sleep, but never doing so. Instead watching over her resting form with brows knitted in concern. Her face was stuck with fear, her body thrashing against the air, and after a while silent tears wet her cheeks. Barely visible under the dying embers of the fire. Eventually with a huff he pulled himself from his spot and sat next to her, and began to hum a melody could barely remember. One his mother had once sung to him but of which the words had been lost.

The morning dew hung heavy on the two hunters, who had woken up and immediately picked up where they had left the day before. The deer was getting closer to them, each broken twig, track and disturbed piece of brush leading them to their destination.

“Careful.” He ushered her through a particularly dense part of the woods, pushing back a thrones branch for her to pass.

She thanked him as she passed and waited for him, the two joining shoulder to shoulder at a steady pace. Dixon pointed out various wildlife along their stalk. He saw as her brows furrowed into a knot, giving him her full concentration. Occasionally the two stopped, Dary passing her his crossbow and watching with a smirk on his face as she shot down a squirrel. She struggled with the weight of the heavy weapon and he could see the muscles in her arm straining to hold it up. Despite that though, she was almost as good a shot as him.

“Fuck, Daryl look she's over there.” She practically threw Daryl's crossbow back to him, her voice despite its quiet tone sent a shiver of urgency through him.

He twisted around, pulling up to aim as fast as he could and shot a bolt but the opportunity was gone. The doe ran into the brush before he could see if the shot landed or not. He wildly started shooting as fast as he could, running after it. The wind pushed against his back, flipping his hair into his eyes and he wanted to pull it out. Or scream in frustration and rip the stupid deer apart with his own hands. The anticipation of the hunt killed him.

“This goddamn fuckin’ deer.” He didn't dare shout, stopping and just calling out loud enough for Quinn to hear. Taking a moment to catch his breath The woman slowly crept towards where the deer had last been, searching the ground and surrounding trees fervently.

“They landed!” She exclaimed, running towards him with a grin spread across her face.

“Booyah!” He exclaimed a wide smile pulled across his own. Grabbing her arm and pulling them to the direction the doe had bolted.

They stumbled across enough blood after a few minutes that tracking the deer became as easy as following the line splattered across the forest floor in red. It led them straight back in the direction of the camp. The two were equally relieved at the thought of finally going back to their makeshift civilization.

When they were only metres away from breaking the treeline his stomach started to sink as he heard the group's loud bickering.

“Oh, Jesus.” Dale didn't seem pleased to see the two when they finally emerged from the treeline. Looking towards the source of the mayhem they found their deer alongside the body of a walker, whose head lay beside it. Snapping and biting at the air.

“Son of a b*tch. That's my deer! Look at it. All gnawed on by this… filthy, disease-bearing, motherless poxy bastard!” Kicking at its headless corpse he released his built-up frustration in a crescendo of violence.

“Calm down, son. This isn't helping.” Quinn cringed at the older man's words, having already started to back away from the gathering crowd.

“What do you know about it, old man?” Daryl rushed towards Dale.

“Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to "on Golden Pond"? I've been tracking this deer for miles. Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison.” He calmed himself down, looked at the girl who’d carefully headed a few steps into the tree line and started pulling the arrows from the deer.

“What do you think? Do you think we can cut around this chewed-up part right here?” He motioned around the deer, but everyone looked disgusted at the sight.

“I would not risk that.” Shane’s voice cut through him, but he didn't disagree.

“That's a damn shame. I got some squirrels. About a dozen or so. That'll have to do.” He signed heavily, trying to find Quinn again, who’d slipped around the group towards Amy.

The walker’s head below him snapped its teeth, its decaying face exposing the inside of its mouth. The sight threw Daryl into a silent rage. Amy’s cry as she was led away by Quinn only angered him more.

“Come on people what the hell? Don't y'all know nothing?” He shot the creature with his arrow, pulling it out and wiping it clean on his pants.

“It's gotta be the brain!”

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A/N; We're FINALLY on the plot of the show, I did want to keep going but I was worried this was getting a little too long?

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dixonsgirl93 · 10 months

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!!!

I'd love some requests for Daryl Dixon, Merle Dixon and Mad Eye Moody!

I have a couple of smutty things in the works for Merle already but I could do with the inspiration. Thanks!

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optimist-pine · 3 months

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Eloquence

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: implied injury, implied past emotional abuse

Summary: A short one shot/drabble.

Era: Season 2, the Farm

Daryl has never had much of a thing for words. His whole life he'd toed the line; two steps away from saying the wrong ones and paying the price. Words shine a light upon thoughts (which he preferred to keep to himself), and feelings (which almost always got out of hand.) They had perhaps been the worst weapons of his past, like hammers demolishing and striking down relentlessly instead of building up. Intentional or not.

After Merle left, blessedly taking his limited vocabulary with him, a rather peaceful silence emerged. It wasn't long before the absence grew to become it's own annoyance though, and that's when he found himself drawn to new words - yours. He'd never found words beautiful until he really heard you speak. As skillful and precise as a master practicing their craft, each word a genuine and perfect combination of head and heart. For the first time Daryl was intrigued enough to truly listen.

That didn't change how he was wired though. His frustration only grew each time he proceeded to act on his own impulsiveness and snap at someone, or when he reacted in the way he despised most. It felt as though his admiration for you in that regard was pushing all of his own shortcomings to the surface.

Regardless of his own insecurities, you must've at least found him to be a tolerable conversationalist. With increasing frequency he'd suddenly find himself the object of your attention, inquiring about his opinion on whatever the group had been discussing, or even just asking about him on a more personal level.

Most often though, you'd ask him to explain some aspect of hunting, tracking, or other obscure wilderness knowledge. Every time he immediately felt like an idiot, your patience and attentiveness making him nervous enough to stumble over some words and forget others.

"See how tha' one got cut off all sharp an' attan angle?" He asked, gesturing with the toe of his boot at a stem eaten off a few inches from the ground. "An', there ain't any leaves left."

You crouched down to get a better look at what was left of the little twig. "Rabbit?" You guessed, squinting up at Daryl's face.

A quick nod. "Yup." He replied.

"Yes!" You stood, pumping your fist in mock victory with a laugh. "You're a good teacher, Daryl." You smiled at him and his heart did a tiny summersault.

Truthfully you were quite intuitive. He'd barely had to teach you much of anything, and definitely nothing worthy of being praised for. "Naw." He grunted, turning to continue on your trek trough the woods. "Best get a move on."

"Hey." You huffed, jogging a bit to catch up with his quick strides. "I really do appreciate you taking the time." You grabbed his arm, pulling him to a stop. You didn't start speaking again until he met your eyes. "You do make a good teacher. Unless you think I'm a liar." Your eyes were as unwavering as your grip on his arm and it made him feel like some unfortunate raccoon caught in headlights.

Your sudden firmness caught him off guard. Where your fingers wrapped around his bicep his skin practically burned, the heavy Georgian heat weighing down on him. He swallowed and then managed to scrape together a, "Course I don'."

Immediately the corner of your mouth quirked up. With a hum of satisfaction you released him, continuing your search for Sophia.

---

The next evening Daryl was more than relieved to hear your voice. Earlier that day the two of you had split up on your search in order to cover more ground, and after barely making it back in one piece himself he couldn't help but worry until your return.

Breathless, you called out his name, peeking into the bedroom that had become a sort of infirmary, your face twisted up with... worry? "Oh, thank God." You gasped.

He was pleased to see that you looked no worse for wear, but still he didn't like you being so upset for no reason. It agitated something within him to be anyone's burden. "What're y'all worked up about, woman?" He asked.

You hurried to his side, trying to slow your breathing. "Carol said you'd been shot in the head. I just- I..." You panted, eyes darting around, inspecting all of him enough to make him feel self conscious.

"Ya what?" It came out more gruffly than he'd intended.

You shook your head. He couldn't recall ever really seeing you at a loss for words. "I was afraid that you..." Your hand started to stretch towards him before you pulled away. "You're okay?" You asked, eyes wide.

He almost wished you hadn't pulled away so soon. Just to see if your touch still burned like it had before. "Yeah." He said quietly.

You hovered over him, apparently in no hurry to leave. He realized he didn't actually want you to leave, in fact, he desperately wanted you to stay, to have your company instead of being confined to this perfectly quiet room alone. Selfishness began to bloom inside him and he longed to hear you, to have your attention all to himself. He was certain your voice would soothe and heal more powerfully than any medicine or even time itself. Was it wrong to want that from you?

"Could ya read ta me?" He asked before he'd even decided to let the words out.

The red on your cheeks from the summer sun began to darken. "What?" You asked, slightly taken aback. Your eyebrows were drawn together as they always were when you were thinking.

He hadn't meant to say that aloud; sounding like some sort of small, scared kid asking for a bedtime story. Hell, he'd never had any of those even when he was a kid. "Sorry, nevermind." He muttered, pulling the covers up and turning his back to you.

"No, no. I can." You blurted, maybe a little too loudly. "That sounds nice. Haven't had the time to read, what with the end of the world and all." You laughed dryly. Had he made you uncomfortable? You sounded nervous the way you were rambling - he could hear your boots shifting on the hardwood floor.

The bed creaked as he rolled back over, but there you were, a small smile unhindered by the grime and dirt sprinkled across the rest of your skin. "Any uh... any requests?" You asked.

"Whatever ya like." He replied, then added, "Nothin' trashy."

And as you sat on the bed beside him, the soft candlelight flickering gently across your features in the darkness, his heart slowed and an unexpected warmth filled him. It was as if every kindness he'd ever experienced was multiplied, each one crammed inside of him until he was practically bursting and then the feeling flooded over him bringing the warmth to every part that he thought was doomed to stay cold forever.

He listened to the melody of your words, watched the way your eyes were losing the struggle to stay open, felt the heat from your side pressed ever so slightly against his. He felt like a child again, the overwhelming desire to be protected that had never been fulfilled when he was young. In this moment he felt more love than he had his whole life.

As sleep finally claimed you he quietly set the book aside, pulling you down into the comfort of the bed. He hesitated to blow out the candle, secretly relishing the peaceful look on your face. As the red glow of the wick faded away, he promised himself that someday he would have the words to tell you everything.

#twd #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #twd season 2 #optimist pine

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celtic-crossbow · 10 months

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I’m Your Fatal Sin

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Setting: Prison Era

Warnings: Typical TWD violence, descriptions of injuries

Summary: Daryl doesn’t like you going outside the safety of the prison.

Prompt: “I will leave now, or I’m going to say things I will regret later.” (Had to write in Daryl speak but it’s the same thing!)

A/N: Second request by @alldevilsarehere90. I took so long writing the first one that I did the second they asked for…and took equally as long. Apparently, “drabble” is not a word I’m familiar with and I should just call these novels. The prompt is waaaay up in the beginning but I just kept going. Sorry again, my friend! Also, I have not had this checked for errors and my brain is too tired tonight. I’ll go over and fix stuff tomorrow…. Because no beta, we die like men.

You watched him pace the length of the room, fingertips rubbing roughly at his temples as if he was fighting off a headache. That would be you, Y/N. You thought, biting back a chuckle. Your group had arrived back at the prison, battered, bruised, and bleeding but hearts still beating. You counted that as a win.

Daryl was not so easily mollified.

He had stayed behind on this run, having only returned from hunting just as your group was heading out. He wasn’t happy that you were going out without him. It was all so amusing to you, personally. When the two of you had first met back at the quarry, you had taken one of the squirrels he had brought back, held it by the tail, and smacked him upside the head with it after he had said something particularly offensive. It was even funnier that you couldn’t remember now what it was that he had said. Regardless, he had retaliated by soaking you in the blood he drained from the rodent he had been skinning. Even in his anger back then, you had caught the look in his eye.

You weren’t afraid of him.

Your friendship started then and there. You spent more time in the Dixon camp than you had with your own boyfriend. That had not gone over well. Mark was the younger brother of one of Ed Peletier’s friends. The moment Daryl had found you doing laundry and saw the shiner you sported, you were given your own small tent next to his and Merle’s. When the perpetrator had come looking for you, the Dixon brothers had formed an immovable wall in front of you.

You still weren’t sure if Mark had been killed by a walker like Merle had said.

Regardless, you were free. Daryl took you under his wing, teaching you to hunt and defend yourself. When he had finally handed you his beloved crossbow, you had laughed and asked if you needed to buy her dinner before squeezing her trigger.

“Stop.” Daryl had huffed, amusement gleaming in those blue eyes.

You had been out with the younger brother when Merle had been left abandoned. While you were angry, you knew how belligerent the man could be, so Rick’s explanation hadn’t seemed too far fetched to you. You went with the group to try and bring him home. You had taken the brunt of Daryl’s verbal aggression with grace, knowing he was in pain. He would never hurt you. That much you knew. When emotions were running high, Daryl floundered and would try to escape them by any means necessary. Even if that meant bucking against someone he cared about.

Still, you stayed.

Months had passed. You didn’t even try to keep up with that anymore, focusing more on the change of the seasons. It felt less like losing something if you only changed your perspective. The group became a family. You had lost the farm and wandered throughout the winter before finding the prison that was your home now.

You and Daryl had remained steadfast, but he continued to open up, bit by bit. First with Carol, then with Rick. Him coming out of his shell made you happy, watching him become more and more comfortable with the others. You’d be lying, though, if you said you didn’t worry about being replaced.

Then, after choosing the cells you all would call your rooms, you came back from your first shower to find the mattress missing from the one you had selected. Daryl was sitting on the top step that led down to the lower level, waiting for you.

“Did you take my mattress, Dixon?”

“Yep.” So nonchalant, like you had just asked if the sky was blue.

“You gonna tell me why?” You pressed, kicking his hip gently with the toe of your boot.

“Ya stay where I can keep a eye on ya.” He shrugged, continuing to fiddle with his crossbow.

“What if I wanted my own space, huh?” You sat next to him and bumped your shoulder into his.

“Cell ain’t goin’ nowhere. S’there if ya need it.”

You never seemed to need it, perfectly content on sharing his perch with him. You had brought things back from runs; books, pictures, and little what-nots that now decorated the area. He never complained beyond the occasional scoff or eyeroll.

And time marched on. Your role in the group was just as vital as anyone else now. You took watches, went on runs, and helped clear the fence. You lost sleep, gave up your portions of the rations to make sure everyone else stayed fed, and you sustained injuries. You weren’t afraid to get your hands dirty for the good of your family.

Which is exactly why you were now perched on one of the tables in the cafeteria, watching Daryl pace a hole into the concrete floor.

“No one died, Dixon.” You leaned back with your palms pressed against the table, collected demeanor the polar opposite of his pulsing anxiety.

“Ya coulda, though, Y/N!” The man snapped, his longer hair shifting to cover his face when he spun to look at you.

“Calm down before you have a stroke.” You mused with a smile.

“Can ya be serious for five fuckin’ seconds?”

You could have sworn you saw smoke boiling out of his ears. Damn, he was mad. “I am.” You sat up straight with your best attempt at stoicism. “Stress can absolutely trigger a stroke and—” You had started laughing while he stomped over to you and grabbed your shoulders.

“Stop, goddamnit!”

“Okay, okay.” You patted his forearm and willed yourself to choke back the amusement. “We’re all fine, Daryl.” Lips pressed into a thin line, he gave you a nod, one that continued even as he released your left shoulder to roughly flick the bandage on your thigh that concealed a deep cut Hershel had earlier stitched. You were taken aback, eyes widening at the tendrils of pain that snaked out from the tender wound. “Ow.” You deadpanned.

“Coulda been a lot worse, Y/N.” He seemed calmer now but his gaze was still intense, shoulders high and nostrils flaring.

“I know that!” You finally snapped back, twisting around until he let you go altogether and stepped out of your space. “Christ, Daryl, I could die just going to piss! I know how dangerous the things we have to do are!” You hated arguing with him but sometimes, brandishing your own anger was the only way to get through to him. He watched you, obviously chewing on the inside of his cheek before he brought his thumb up to inflict the same abuse.

“Nah, not you. Not anymore.” He shook his head and started to walk away.

“What the—” Pain radiated through your leg when you hastily hopped down a little too roughly in your attempt to keep up with him. “What’s that supposed to mean? Daryl? Daryl!” When he made it clear he had no intention of stopping, you had to sprint to cut him off at the door, pressing your palms against his chest to force him to a halt. “Where are you going? What did you mean?”

“M’tellin’ Rick ya ain’t goin’ out there no more.”

Your eyebrows shot up, mouth falling open. “Excuse me?”

“Ya heard me, Y/N.” He made to step around you but you moved with him. “Go get offa that leg.” He ordered in an attempt to persuade you into relenting. He knew better.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Who the hell are you to say where I can and can’t go?” You seethed. Now it was you who was fuming and pacing, though it wasn’t as intimidating with your profound limp. Daryl crossed his arms and squared his shoulders. You suddenly wanted to punch him square in the nose.

“Ya ain’t got no business out there. Ya can do plenty here to help.”

“Says the man that goes off hunting alone every other day!” You hissed. Your fists were clenched at your sides.

“That’s diff’rent.”

“Oh, please, enlighten me. This I’ve just got to hear.” You laughed emptily and mimicked his stance.

“Ya just ain’t goin’ and that’s that.” When you moved to cut him off again, he was ready. His arm caught you at the chest and kept you from crossing in front of him.

“Goddamnit, Daryl! This isn’t your decision!” You yelled, trailing after him once again. You grabbed his wrist but he shook you off. “I want to help!”

“Ya can help here!” He shot back without looking at you.

“Would you just stop?!”

“Nah.”

“Why the fuck do you even care?!”

That stopped him in his tracks, nearly making you crash into his back. His fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides, his posture radiating with tension. He turned his head to the side and focused on something, anything but you, speaking to you over his shoulder. Somehow, this made you more nervous than his livid pacing.

“Ya even hafta ask?” You didn’t respond, utterly confused. The archer gave you more time than necessary but when you remained silent, he shook his head and changed course, heading outdoors instead of to the cell blocks. “Do whatever ya want.”

Your anger dissipated. “Daryl, wait. Where are you going?”

“M’leavin’ now or I’ma say things I’ll regret later.”

You called his name again but the only reply was the slam of the heavy metal door.

Your search for him didn’t last long. You knew better than anyone that there was no finding Daryl when he didn’t want to be found. In his absence, you did the only thing you could do: sulk.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Carol queried, adjusting the basket of laundry on her hip after she stopped by the picnic table you had been perched at for the last 3 hours. Your only response was a heavy sigh. “Staring at the woods won’t make him come back any faster.” Your head shot up to reveal her knowing smile. Aside from you, Carol was the only other person to even relatively understand the younger Dixon. “What’d you argue about?” The silver-haired woman deposited the laundry on the table and took a seat across from you.

“He doesn’t want me to go on runs anymore.” A quiet reply while you toyed with some twine you had been using to hang up things around your space inside.

“And that bothers you?”

“Of course it does!” You snapped before quickly muttering an apology, though Carol didn’t seem affected. “It feels like he doesn’t trust me.”

“You know that’s bullshit.” Your mouth dropped open in disbelief. To your recollection, you had never before heard the woman utter even a syllable of a curse. She, of course, only offered a cheeky grin. “What? You think I can hang around you two and not pick up something?”

“Touché.” You nodded.

“Listen, Y/N,” she started and took your hand, “Daryl cares about you, more than he lets on.” She wouldn’t mention all the times he had come to her with questions. How he would mumble and blush when trying to figure something out to make you happy. How he would actively look for at least one thing to bring back for you from a run. “I think you should try to see this from his perspective.” Just like she had told him to see it from yours. “I think then you may be able to compromise, yeah?”

You nodded with a small smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll think it over. Thanks, Carol.”

“Good.” The woman stood and grabbed up the basket. “Besides, you’re both insufferable when you’re fighting.” You reached out to give her a playful shove as she walked by and then patted the hand she laid briefly on your shoulder.

She was right. You didn’t want to keep fighting with Daryl. It made you both (and apparently everyone else) miserable. You’d have to come up with something in the middle.

The sky had faded to a pale lavender with the orange hue of the setting sun peeking over the trees. It was getting late and Daryl hadn’t returned. Your fingertips were sore from drumming on the table. Just as you stood with the intent to grab a weapon and go after him, a silhouette emerged from the treeline. There was a distinct outline of a crossbow on their back. The relief was immense and had you sinking back down onto the bench with your hand clutching the front of your shirt.

Your eyes stayed trained on him as he made his way past the walkers outside and entered the gate that was promptly closed behind him. From a distance, he appeared fine albeit a little dirty. He walked slowly with his head down, but he had been out all day, so you hoped that was nothing more than fatigue. He made it a little closer than you thought he would before he raised his head and his gaze went straight to you.

“Hey.” You offered, standing slowly. He gave you a nod and you thought he may walk on by, but he stopped just shy of the table. “You okay?” Another nod, his eyes seemingly studying your boots. “Look, Daryl—”

“I was wrong.” It came out so quickly that you had to think about it for a moment before you made sense of what he said. “Earlier. Was wrong. Ain’t got no right to tell ya what to do.”

This time, it was you who nodded. “I know why though.” He looked up, blue eyes peering from behind his hair.

“Ya do?”

“Yeah. You want to keep me safe. You care about me.” You smiled, small but genuine. A strange look crossed his face but was gone a moment later. Was that disappointment?

“Right.” He had started to chew on his thumbnail.

Licking your lips nervously, you continued. “I’ll do no more than two runs a week. And only when you’re going too.” You were absolutely certain you caught a ghost of a smile.

“Fair ‘nough.” He was shifting from foot to foot now, thumb still pressed against his lips. You had been so focused on the problem at hand that you hadn’t noticed the anxiety radiating from him in waves. Something was off. This had been too easy.

“Daryl, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Mhm, just—just tired.” His eyes said as much. You placed your hand on his bicep and ushered him along toward the door.

“Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving!” Had your focus not been ahead, you would have seen the way he only smiled once he looked down at you.

“Got some formula for Lil Asskicker.” Daryl rounded the end of the aisle you were knelt in, displaying the four cans in his pack before closing it up and placing it on his shoulder.

“That’ll last her about 3 days.” You quirked, causing Daryl to snort behind you. “She’s growing like a little weed.” There wasn’t much left in the way of over the counter medications but you had scored some infants Tylenol and gas relief drops, as well as medication for the adults. “The food was pretty picked through. I got a couple of cans of fruit, though!” You placed three more bottles of tylenol in your bag and stood, your knees protesting the movement.

“Y’ready then?” Daryl turned to head to the front of the old store. Glenn and Maggie were set to meet the two of you in the parking lot.

“All set!” You confirmed, adjusting the backpack straps on your shoulders. You jogged to catch up with the archer, bumping into his side while pulling your knife from its sheath. Daryl smirked and ruffled your hair before gently shoving you away. “Pretty good haul, I think. Maybe we could stop by that gas—”

“Sshh.” The bowman had gone rigid, his hand just in front of your mouth. “Ya hear that?” It was faint at first but the closer the two of you moved towards the front of the store, the louder the thumping and moaning became.

“That sounds like an awful lot of walkers, Daryl.” You rounded the broken down checkout lanes to bring the doors into view and felt your stomach drop. The light that should have been filtering through the dusty glass doors was completely snuffed out by the multitude of bodies shuffling past. A glance at the archer found him tense and mirroring your expression. “Glenn and Maggie—” You whispered urgently.

“They’ll wait ‘em out. Ain’t their first rodeo.” He had lowered his crossbow to his side. “Ours neither. Get comfy, girl. Might be here a bit.” He hopped up to sit on one of the conveyors while you walked through one of the other lanes to look at some of the old magazines. From the corner of your eye, you saw a small piece of bright orange peeking out from under the checkout shelf.

“Oh my god!” You shrieked in an enthused whisper.

“What?” Daryl was on his feet, crossbow leveled with his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You were already on your knees to retrieve the object of your excitement. “Reese’s cups!” You sprang up to your feet, waving the small package around triumphantly.

The archer let the crossbow fall to his side, his face hidden behind his palm. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Big word, Dixon. I’m proud.” You bumped him deliberately with your hip as you walked by, hopping up where he had just been perched. The man leaned his weapon against the shelf where the cash register was positioned and sat beside you. You didn’t ask if he wanted the second treat, just handing it over habitually. You always shared with him. He accepted it with a smirk you didn’t see since you were already taking the first bite of the stale candy. “Buttery baby Jesus.” You moaned, eyes rolling back.

Daryl barked a laugh, almost dropping the Reese’s. “M’not sure I wanna know why baby Jesus is buttery.” He was shaking his head when he caught your bewildered expression. “What?” He questioned around the first bite.

“They told me it couldn’t happen. That it was impossible.” You whispered, eyes wide. The look on his face said he was waiting for you to continue. “You… you laughed.”

His expression deadpanned. “Shtop.” He mumbled around the chocolate and peanut butter.

“I’m serious, Dixon. We were all wondering when we would stumble across the reanimated remains of your sense of humor.”

He swallowed and bumped you with his shoulder. “I hate ya.”

“I love you too.” Your lips pressed against his cheek and pulled away just as quickly. The man went rigid, eyes straight forward. You didn’t seem to notice, wandering around the front.

His blue eyes began to follow your movements, the tight feeling in his chest overpowering the butterflies fluttering madly in his stomach. His face was burning all the way to the tips of his ears. No longer hungry, he delicately wrapped the remaining Reese’s cup in its wrapper and put it in his bag to give to you later.

You had knelt down to look through a basket labeled ‘return to stock.’ “Score! Batteries!” You exclaimed, mostly to yourself, and quickly shoved the different sizes into your pack. Behind you, the archer cleared his throat.

“Think they’re gone.” He was motioning toward the door when you turned to acknowledge him.

You twisted to the other side to find nothing but dull light creeping through the glass. “Nice! You ready?”

“Uh—yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”

You both shouldered your packs and grabbed your weapons, moving almost silently through the door. Glenn and Maggie had undoubtedly hunkered down as well, so it was anyone’s guess who would arrive first at the meeting spot. Daryl followed behind you, walking backwards to ensure the area you couldn’t see stayed clear.

“I think we’re good. It’s this way. Maybe Glenn and—” You rounded the corner, voice cut off into surprised shriek as two walkers tumbled into you. The back of your head met the concrete with a sickening crack and black spots danced across your vision. There was a loud bang to your left that you couldn’t place. Your body moved almost on autopilot, fumbling for the weapon you had dropped while you held one walker back with your forearm and kicked back the other with your free leg. You could hear Daryl screaming your name above the blood rushing in your ears. “D-Daryl!” You managed around the bile creeping up your throat. What seemed like several minutes later, the weight above you vanished and your gun was thrust into your hands.

“C’mon, girl! Up we go!”

Daryl’s hands were on you, pulling you up haphazardly by your arm. His voice sounded muffled but strained, like he was shouting under water. The world tilted and spun, and you felt an arm tighten around your back that you hadn’t realized was even there. You blinked hard, willing your surroundings to come into focus, but Daryl’s jarring movements were aggravating the already present nausea. Before you could warn him, you listed to your right and retched, the bile burning the back of your throat.

“Shit!”

His voice was a little clearer now, but you must have thrown him off balance. You tumbled down, only barely catching yourself on your palms before you would have smashed face first into the puddle of sick on the asphalt. Daryl crashed into your back a second later but quickly averted his weight so he landed beside you. A string of curses left his mouth as he pushed himself up, your eyes trying to follow him but stopping short on the smear of crimson where he had fallen.

“Daryl, are—are you bleeding?” Am I bleeding? You were being hauled to your feet again, the motion almost too much. Your vision grayed at the edges and you felt a strange tingling in your limbs. Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out.

“Over here! Hurry!”

Glenn. You had never been so relieved to hear his voice. It was short lived as you felt yourself fading. Your body was shifted again and now the world was upside down, a strong grip pressing into your ribs and the side of your knees. The last thing you saw was the herd of walkers closing in before it all went dark.

You awoke with a start, sitting up halfway before the pounding in your head made its presence known and you fell back with a grunt.

“Easy.”

Daryl. Thank god. You risked opening your eyes, finding him to be looking down at you from straight above. Scenery was flying by just beside his head. You were in the car, your head pillowed on Daryl’s lap. “Glenn? Maggie?” You asked quietly. You didn’t think you were physically capable of talking any louder.

“We’re here, Y/N.” Maggie’s voice came from the front seat. You felt her gentle touch in your arm and you immediately relaxed. You had all made it.

“What happened?” You asked, trying to keep your eyes focused on the archer when they wanted nothing more than to close and let you be dragged back into oblivion.

“Other half’a the herd came down on us. Ya cracked your melon when two’a ‘em took ya down.”

Worry and fatigue laced his voice but as you studied him, you could see the clear indicators of pain. Daryl always hid it well but you knew him better than anyone.

“You hurt?”

He shifted in the seat slightly and winced. “Ya must’a squeezed the trigger when ya went down. Shot me.”

Your eyes blew wide and you were instantly moving, trying to sit up. Your body seemed to disagree with that plan of action. “Where are you hit? How bad is it? Damn it!”

“Whoa! Hold up!” He pulled you back down, calloused finger smoothing the hair away from your face. “M’alright. Got the back’a my leg. Hershel’ll take care’a it.” You stared at him with wide, exhausted eyes. Were you actually lying on his wounded leg?

“I shot you?” You could feel the tears collecting on your lashes, guilt eating away at your insides, colliding with the nausea so hard that it made your vision swim. “I’m so sorry.” Your fingertips found his jaw, barely brushing the prickly hair there before your arm became too heavy to hold up.

“Ya didn’t do it on purpose, Y/N.”

“I would…never…” You suddenly felt exhaustion pulling you under, Daryl’s pleas for you to stay awake fading into white noise as blackness swallowed you up once again.

It had been three days since the run. Two had seen you lying in bed with Hershel doing periodic checks to ensure that the concussion wasn’t something more serious. Daryl had been there too. He would only leave when threatened by Carol, forced to go rest himself. He never stayed gone long. Rick had finally dragged an extra mattress in and placed it in the corner. The archer finally allowed himself to fall asleep and that’s how you found him when you had awoken near the end of day two. Hershel arrived to check your vitals and found you propped up on your elbows, watching Daryl sleep.

“How long has he been there?” You asked quietly. The old man smiled and released your wrist, satisfied with your pulse.

“It’d be easier to tell you when he wasn’t in here.” He mused while shaking two pills from a bottle. The sound didn’t disturb the bowman in the slightest, a testament to his exhaustion. “Take these.”

You trusted the old veterinarian and took the offered medication, just assuming it was for pain. Your eyes never left Daryl. “His leg— did it—will he—”

Hershel patted your own leg and waited for you to finally look at him. He shone a small light in your eyes and smiled again. “He’ll be fine. And so will you. You both just need to rest.”

You nodded and laid your head back on the pillow, turning on your side so you could keep Daryl in your sights. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep. You didn’t hear Hershel leave.

Now, you were perched in the tower. It was the only thing Rick would allow you to do after Hershel released you. The sun had long ago set and the prison was dark and silent, save for the moans of the walkers shuffling around outside the fences. You had learned to tune them out when you were out there, allowing yourself to enjoy the fresh air and the quiet peace the night offered.

“Hey.”

You jerked around with a start, vision swimming only slightly as Daryl came into focus just beside the door leading to the ladder. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and chewed on the opposite thumbnail.

“Hi.” You smiled at him but it faded as he limped toward where you sat, hissing as he took a seat next to you. “Still hurts?”

“I’ll live.” He was looking out over the field and into the trees for a moment before turning to you. You avoided his gaze, and you knew he knew. “Ya alright?” You looked back at him and he tapped his finger against his forehead.

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I’m feeling much better.” A smile graced your lips once again, not quite reaching your eyes. Daryl nodded, his thumb to his mouth again. “You were right, you know.” His brow creased in confusion but you looked away, finding the treeline before continuing. “I shouldn’t be going out there anymore.”

The archer shook his head and moved his hand back to his lap. “Nah, Y/N. What happened was—”

“My fault.” You nodded resolutely, ignoring the twinge of discomfort it caused. “I wasn’t careful. I was distracted. I shot you.”

“That was a accident.”

“That doesn’t matter, Daryl!” Your voice escalated. The tears stinging your eyes threatened to fall. The walkers beyond the fence zeroed in on the noise and began to gather. The bowman glanced over, assessing the situation. When the fence held the extra weight, he looked back to you, your cheeks now wet before you angrily wiped at them with the back of your hand. “I’m a liability out there. You need someone better to—”

“Hey,” he cut you off, with a hand on your knee, “ya got my back out there. You do.” Daryl ducked down his head, searching for your gaze. “Ya got yer shit together. Y’know what yer doin’ out there. There ain’t no one I trust more. Ya hear me?”

Confusion twisted your expression. You turned to face him, careful that your legs didn’t bump his. “Then why?” You asked with a gentle shake of your head. “Why did you fight me so hard about going out?” You watched several emotions skitter across the archer’s face, but he settled on one: guilt. He scowled deeply, bottom lip caught between his teeth with his gaze anywhere but on you. “Daryl?”

“I, uh—” You saw a spot of blood on his lip before his tongue quickly erased it. “I just—need to know you’re safe.”

He wasn’t making much sense. “If you know I can take care of myself, why are you worried?”

His face began to redden, the color spreading down his neck and up to the tips of his ears. “Damnit, y’know I ain’t no good with words, kid!”

“Obviously. Because I’m not a kid.” You chuckled, your fingertips brushing his cheek before you used your palm to coax his head to turn. He kept his eyes stubbornly downcast, his hand immediately lifting his thumb towards his mouth. You intercepted and gently pushed his hand to his lap, keeping your own over it. “Just say what you mean.”

Daryl swallowed hard, his jaw clenching while he slumped in the chair. You knew where this was headed. He was trying to process something deep; something important. When faced head on with emotions, there was only one thing Daryl could count on: his anger. When his fingers folded into a fist below your hand, you didn’t let him pull away.

“We don’t need to talk about this. Let’s just table it for later, alright?” You smiled gently and moved to turn yourself forward, away from him.

This time, it was him that stopped you from pulling away. “Nah.” When you turned your face back to reassure him things were okay, he met you there. His lips pressed against yours firmly, almost aggressively. This definitely wasn’t something he had planned. Soon enough, the pressure minimized and you were able to react. Your brain was currently short-circuiting but you managed to move your mouth against his, finding a rhythm in the hungry dance.

Of all the things Daryl could “say” to you, this was definitely not on your bingo card for the year. His hands gently held the sides of your neck, calloused fingers sliding up your skin to tangle in your hair. Your own hands found purchase in the front of his vest, using it to keep him close to you; afraid that he would change his mind now that you had accepted his confession. And that’s what this was.

A confession.

Daryl was a man of action, not words. He had been for as long as you had been a part of his life. So this? You could decipher this pretty easily. He cared about you more than a friend. He was willing to be vulnerable with you. He trusted you. He worried about you. He wanted you close by and safe. He loved you. Was he in love with you? That was the only question left. You definitely didn’t mind waiting for the answer as long as he could keep kissing you like this.

You tried to pull back to breathe, but he held fast, tongue licking into your mouth the moment it opened to protest. Drawing a deep breath through your nose, you couldn’t help but let out a content sigh and allow yourself to taste him as well. Tobacco smoke and a hint of spice that you found delicable, craving more as you began to take charge. Releasing his vest, you opened your palms and pressed him against the back of the chair. Your lips never left his, even as the angle changed for you to be standing over him. He had released your hair and settled his palms on your hips as you lowered to straddle his lap.

You had begun to wonder just how far this would go when your full weight settled onto him, and he yelped (in a very manly way, if anyone asked) against your mouth. You pulled back, tripping over his boot and crashing toward the floor. Daryl tried to stop your descent, managing to catch your bicep which led to your hand gripping the front of his vest while your leg was still trapped behind his. You successfully pulled him off the chair, the pair of you meeting the concrete one right after the other.

You laid there for a moment, stunned and assessing the situation. When your eyes met Daryl’s wide blue gaze, you couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside. The entire prison could probably hear you but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Especially when you heard the brief chuckle from beside you.

“Great first kiss, Dixon.” You let your head gingerly fall back, the stitched wound beneath your hair still tender. “Top notch.”

“Shut up.” There was no heat behind the words. In fact, he sounded rather relaxed. “First, huh?”

You grinned at the stars, wondering how red his face would be if you chose to look at him at that moment. “Of many.”

He hummed in reply. You started to rethink your words, worried that you were putting too much pressure on him, but then you felt his finger brush over the back of your hand. He didn’t do more than just press his hand against yours but allowed you to wrap your index finger around his. For several moments, the two of you laid there, silent but comfortable in it.

“I’m still on watch.” You finally said, already missing his touch when he moved his hand away. “I guess I should be, you know, watching.”

“Mhmm.” He replied. You turned your head to watch him struggle to his feet, hurrying to get up yourself to steady him. Once he found his balance, you let go and took a deep breath. You didn’t want this moment to end.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“‘Course.” He gave you a look that meant you should have known the answer already.

“Night, Daryl.” You plopped back down onto your chair and looked out through your binoculars while you waited to hear the door close. When it didn’t, you turned to find him still standing a few feet away.

“You, uh—if ya want some company, I could—y’know, stay.” He was blushing again, rubbing the back of his neck like he had when he’d first arrived earlier. You’d never tell him how adorable he looked. He’d likely murder you in your sleep. So, you smiled and nodded before patting the other chair.

“Yeah, I’d like it if you stayed.” As he limped back over, you felt a warmth rise and settle in your chest, one you hadn’t felt since before the world ended. Actually, this was new. This was different. This was the beginning of something. Something beautiful born out of darkness and death. Something you’d fight like hell to hold onto.

And you’d never have to fight alone.

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead #Spotify

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chyckles · 7 months

Text

First times

━ A Daryl Dixon drabble

━ Pairings: daryl dixon x fem!reader

━Summary: Where you tell your boyfriend your little secret: you're bisexual. You end up sharing little stories about your past.

━ Words: 1.2k

━ Warnings: Suggestive if you squint (the characters just had sex and they talk about past relationships), cursing, my bad English (I'm from Spain, English is not my first language, my grammar sucks), mention of a shappic kiss (not sure if this has to be a warning, just in case), maybe ooc Daryl? he's complicated

━ A/N: You can imagine this story in any era, but just keep in mind that they mention Merle in past tense, so he's not around anymore. I personally imagined it in Alexandria post-Negan.

This is just a sweet conversation that came to my mind at like 3:00 AM? Just knew I had to share it with the world.

masterlist

You're resting your head on Daryl's chest while he hugs you with his right arm and caresses your lower back. You just had an amazing night and are enjoying a comforting silence, one of those silences that only you two understand.

"Can I tell you something?" you ask suddenly.

"Mhm" he simply responds, with his eyes close.

"It's kind of stupid, I have never told anyone. Not even my family knows"

He opens his eyes, now curious.

"What is it?"

You feel your cheeks getting hot as you look up at him.

"I... because I don't know how the rest of the world would react to it, it's... It's something that I've been struggling with my whole life"

"C'mon, woman, just say it" he says.

"Okay..." you nod, returning to your initial position "I'm... I'm bisexual"

He's silent for a moment.

"What is that? Some kinky stuff?" he says confused.

You chuckle, surprised at his response, expecting anything but that.

"No! You really don't know what it is?" you ask, looking again at him.

He shakes his head, embarrassed.

"It's... it means I like men, but I also like women" you explain to him.

"You mean...?" he raises his eyebrow. He had stop caressing your back.

"Yeah" you answer with a nervous chuckle. You look away, feeling embarrassed. You really have never tell anyone, afraid of what they'll say.

He nods and returns to caressing you, drawing circles in your skin.

"You're not gonna say anything?" you ask confused.

"I don't have anything to say. You aren't in love with any woman, right?"

"Of course not"

"Then that's it" he says, shruing and closing his eyes again.

"You are not... mad?" you are still confused. You really thought he was gonna act differently.

"No, why would I be? My brother, he was the kind to get mad at those things. He thought love only existed between a man and a woman. I don't believe that shit. Nothing to get mad at here"

"I didn't mean it that way, I know you're not like Merle. But... you don't see me differently?"

"No" he says as he kisses my forehead.

You return to rest your head on his shouder, with a smile on your face, now feeling relief. After some minutes, he speaks:

"How did you find out?"

"You know high school wasn't the best period of my life, right? Didn't have a lot of friends. Well, there was this girl... the prettiest girl on high school, at least for me. She always smiled at me, asked me about my day... She was my only friend, so I thought what I felt for her was normal. Then I saw her kissing that guy... and I knew in that moment that I wanted to be him. I felt so jealous... just as you feel when I talk with Charlie, the guy from-" I start teasing him.

"I remember him" he grunts "An asshole"

You chuckle and kiss his shoulder.

"I hope she's okay. Cassie, was her name. I never saw her again after high school"

Daryl kisses your forehead again. You stay silent for a moment again, and then you ask:

"Who was the first girl that you liked?"

"I don't even remember her name, was a long time ago" he starts "She was Merle's girl and-"

"What?" you ask with a gasp and a smile, looking at him "You fell for your brother's girlfriend?"

"I wouldn't call her a girlfriend, he only wanted her for the sex"

"Aww, and you wanted her for real, like, actual feelings"

He turns a cute shade of red "Whatever"

You kiss his chin with a smile.

"Aww, I can picture you. How old were you? Like, 14? Cute, cute, cute"

"Shut up, woman" he's redder than ever now.

You chuckle against his neck, loving teasing him.

"It's just... picturing young Daryl in love makes my heart all warm"

You stay silent after that, just enjoying each other presence.

"You know..." you remember "Actually, my first kiss was with a girl"

"Mhm?" he asks, urging you to continue talking.

"We were at this girl's birthday party, I don't even know why they invited me... Anyway, everything was normal, then she asked me to go to a lonely room in her house. She kissed me without saying anything more. I was so confused but returned the kiss because, God, she kissed well" you chuckle.

Daryl hasn't stop caressing your skin all this time, and he gives a sweet squeeze to you.

"Turns out it was a bet" you say sadly "They all laughed at me after that"

"Assholes" he grunts.

"Yeah" you chuckle "I still remember her despite it, wonder where she is now"

"I hope bitten to death by a damn walker"

You playfully slap his chest.

"It was just a stupid teenager bet, it's not that serious"

"You didn't deserve it" he says, and you look up at him again with a sad smile. You stretch to give him a kiss in the lips.

"What about your first kiss?" you ask as you return to rest your face in his chest.

"It really isn't a nice story. We both were drunk, it just... happened. Don't remember a lot about it. Just remember that we ended up having sex"

"Was it nice?" you ask.

"What? The kiss or the sex?" he jokes.

"Both"

"The kiss was... intense. Not the best, not the worst. The sex... hell, let's just say that it was quick" he says embarrassed.

"You have learn a few things since that moment, then" you say with a smirk, trying to make him feel better.

"Yeah" he agrees, giving you another kiss in your forehead.

"My first time..." you start "At least that was nice. He isn't the best sex I've had (you take that spot for sure), but he was really sweet. Understood that it was my first time and went easy on me. Was not memorable, but at least it wasn't bad"

"Have you ever... done anything with a woman?"

"No, I was so scared to tell anyone that I liked women that never really tried to flirt with one. Why? That would turn you on?" you tease looking at him.

His face turns red once again and he doesn't answer.

"The thought of me with another woman turns you on?" you bit your lip, loving teasing him "You know, there's nothing wrong with that, nothing to be embarrassed about"

He stares at you, biting the inside of his lip, nervous.

"I didn't mean it that way, I was just curious..." he finally says in a low voice.

"Sure" you smirk, but let it die there. You don't like to pressure him. "So... in summary, we both had horrible first kisses"

He nods.

"And not memorable first times" you continue.

He nods again, now with a smile.

"We have grown a lot since that" you say with a smile, looking at him "Now the kisses are honestly perfect, and the sex is actually pretty memorable"

"Mhm" he says, pleased. You kiss him again. This time, the kiss lasts longer.

"Thank you... for not judging me" you say "You're the first person I have told all this to, you know?"

"I know, and I thank you for trusting me, sweetheart"

"I love when you call me that" you say blushing, not used to hearing this word out of his mouth.

"That's why I only tell you it on moments like this, wouldn't be that special if I called you it all the time, hmm?" he smirks.

"You're one of a kind, Daryl Dixon" you chuckle as you kiss him sweetly.

After a long kiss, you return to your initial position, this time with your hand in his chest, to feel his heartbeat.

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