fully in love with younger sister and ghost so so so good
Me too yall, I have no idea where this is going…
They’re halfway through the second round when it starts.
The room feels warmer than it should. Old stories are being recycled, embellished, twisted until everyone’s crying laughing. Soap’s got his arm thrown around you like you’re still fifteen, like you haven’t grown into yourself in ways that make the room subtly shift when you walk in.
“Remember when she tried to sneak my beer?” he says, grinning at the others. “Thought we wouldn’t notice.”
Price chuckles into his glass. Gaz snorts. Even Ghost’s shoulders move slightly with the ghost of a laugh.
You roll your eyes. “I was curious.”
“You cried,” Soap insists.
“It was disgusting!”
“You’re still the baby though,” he adds lightly.
Baby.
You laugh with them. Of course you do. But something in your chest tightens.
“I’m not a kid anymore.”
Soap arches a brow in challenge, that older brother smirk sharpening. “Aye?”
You don’t think. You just grab his glass.
“I bet I can out drink you.”
The table erupts immediately. Gaz looks delighted. Price looks tired already. Ghost goes quiet in that specific way that means he’s paying attention.
Soap grins like you’ve just handed him a gift. “You’ll lose.”
“Try me.”
It starts playful. Competitive. You matching him sip for sip, determined to wipe that smug look off his face. They’re cheering. Laughing. Counting.
And you’re winning.
At least at first.
The alcohol hits you harder than you expect. Warmer. Faster. You don’t slow down when Soap does. You’re too focused on proving something that no one else even realises is a sore spot.
By the time you slam the last of it down, triumphant, the room tilts slightly to the left.
Soap is laughing, hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright, you win.”
You stand too quickly.
The floor moves.
You sway.
A hand catches your elbow before you can pretend you didn’t wobble.
Simon
His grip is firm but not tight. Steadying. He doesn’t say anything at first, just assesses you with that unreadable stare.
“I’m fine,” you insist, words softer than intended.
“Course you are,” he replies flatly.
Price gives him that silent nod from across the table. Go on then.
Ghost doesn’t argue. Just guides you toward the hallway, away from the noise.
The air outside the room feels cooler. Quieter. Your thoughts feel a little too loud.
“I’m not a baby,” you mumble, mostly to yourself.
“I know.”
“They still think I am.”
He doesn’t respond to that. He opens your door, keeps a hand at your back so you don’t misjudge the step.
You turn to face him once you’re inside, suddenly serious in that way only drunk people can be. Honest. Stripped down.
“D’you remember when I used to follow you around?”
“Yes.”
You smile faintly. “I liked you.”
The words just… fall out.
No buildup. No filter.
“I liked you so much, Simon.”
His name sounds different from you. Softer. Too personal.
He goes completely still.
You keep going, because why wouldn’t you? You’ve already detonated the thing.
“You were so cool. An’ quiet. An’ I thought if I grew up fast enough maybe you’d see me.”
His jaw tightens.
“I saw you.”
You frown, confused by that.
“Not like that,” you murmur, stepping closer without realising you are. “You never looked at me like that.”
He is looking at you like that right now.
And that’s the problem.
You poke his chest lazily. “I’m not too young.”
The words hang there.
He swallows once. “You are.”
But it doesn’t sound convincing. Not even to him.
Your eyelids are getting heavy. The adrenaline’s gone. All that’s left is the alcohol and the truth you shouldn’t have handed him so easily.
“You’re still pretty,” you mumble. “Annoying. But pretty.”
He catches you when you lose balance properly this time. Guides you to sit. Takes your shoes off without comment. Pulls the blanket over you like it’s instinct.
You grab his sleeve as he straightens.
“Don’t leave.”
It’s not flirtatious. Not dramatic. Just small. Vulnerable.
He hesitates.
For a second, he looks almost torn.
“I’m right outside,” he says quietly.
It’s not entirely true. But it’s not entirely false either.
Your grip loosens. You’re asleep before he even reaches the door.
He stands there for a moment longer than necessary.
Because that wasn’t harmless nostalgia.
That wasn’t a childhood crush resurfacing.
That was something current.
Alive.
And downstairs, Soap is still laughing, completely unaware that his best mate just walked into something neither of them can easily walk back out of.
Bf! Johnny who texts you at stupid hours when he's on base or in the field. Voice notes at 4 am his time because he "just saw a dog that looked like ye" or "miss yer laugh, hen, send me one quick." Half the messages are blurry selfies with dumb filters. The other half is him complaining about MREs or Ghost's brooding.
Bf! Johnny who comes home after months away and immediately tackles you into a hug that lifts you off the ground. He still smells like gun oil, sweat, and whatever cheap soap was in the barracks. He doesn't let go for a solid minute. He just breathes you in like you're the only thing keeping him steady.
Bf! Johnny who is terrible at keeping the flat tidy when he's home on leave. He leaves boots by the door, tactical gear draped over chairs, empty energy drink cans everywhere. But he always makes the bed military tight first thing because "it's the one thing I can control, aye?"
Bf! Johnny that cooks for you like it's a mission objective. Loud music blasting (probably old rock), dancing badly while chopping veggies, burning something half the time because he got distracted kissing your neck. He ends up ordering takeaway anyway, but he tries every single time.
Bf! Johnny who gets quiet and distant the night before he has to ship out again. He'll hold you extra tight in bed, tracing scars (his or yours) with his fingers, murmuring in Gaelic he thinks you don't understand. He hates goodbyes, so he just kisses your forehead at dawn and slips out. He leaves a scribbled note on the counter: "Back before ye miss me too much. Love ye, dafty."
Bf! Johnny who sends care packages when he's gone. Random stuff like your favorite Scottish sweets, a tiny stuffed highland cow "for when I'm no' there." silly keychains from whatever country he's in. One time he included a grenade pin (deactivated, he swears!!!) as a "good luck charm." Price chewed him out for that one.
Bf! Johnny who is protective without being overbearing. He checks doors are locked twice, walks on the traffic side of the pavement, and glares at anyone who looks at you too long in a pub. But he trusts you completely. If you tell him you're handling something alone, he believes you. "Ye're tougher than half the lads I serve with, hen."
Bf! Johnny who has nightmares more often than he'll admit. He wakes up gasping, reaches for you instinctively. He doesn't want to talk about it right away. He just needs your hand on his chest so he can feel your heartbeat until he calms. He falls back asleep mumbling apologies for "bein' a mess."
Bf! Johnny who brags about you to the team constantly. "My partner's a genius, lads, ye should see what they did last week." Until Ghost rolls his eyes and Gaz teases him mercilessly. But when you're around the boys, he's subtly proud. Arm around your shoulders like you're his greatest achievement.
Bf! Johnny that argues with you over dumb stuff (like who gets the last biscuit or why he keeps buying tactical flashlights you don't need). But he never lets it fester. He's always the first to apologize with a sheepish grin, pulling you in for a kiss mid sentence: "Alright, ye win, I'm a numpty. Forgive me?"
Bf! Johnny who plans cheap, chaotic dates because deployments make money tight and time precious. Late-night drives blasting music, picnics in random fields, pubs. The best ones are just crashing on the couch watching terrible action movies. You use his thigh as a pillow while he plays with your hair.
Bf! Johnny that says "I love ye" like it's punctuation. He slips it into every phone call, text, and goodbye. Not performative. He just can't help it. He's lost too many mates to hold back on telling the people he cares about how he feels.
It looks like the 141 beastmen have some competition around that just can't wait to get their greedy paws/claws on reader the first moment they turn their eyes away.
Great-tailed Grackle Alejandro that sometimes flies just a little too close to Gaz's nest, to the latter beastman's annoyance. Alejandro's distinctive song can be heard from a few miles away, he enjoys displaying his feathered tail and drooping his wings. His flirty nature and smooth talking definetely doesn't help the flush on your cheeks and by that satisfied smile on his face he must know it too. And if someday it just so happens that you get bored and try to leave the nest while Gaz is away and a mistep has you falling down, don't be surprised by the winged beastman ready to catch you. Would you like to see the view from his nest? It would just be a moment.
Fox Graves that is always lurking near the territory of Soap's pack just to get a look at you. He seems friendly, but something tells you that if you're not careful he might just snatch you up. He always tries to get you to come with him on a hunt to show you just how capable he is to provide, but judging from the look in his eyes you might be the one getting hunted down. Everytime he passes you he uses his fluffy tail to tickle your legs, taking great pleasure in seeing your confused and distraught face, laughing at the sound of the slight yelp that always escapes your mouth. You swear he can feel the chills down your spine otherwise why would he smile so wickedly?
Lion Konig that is the only other beastman strong enough to dare challenge someone of Ghost's size. He doesn't really say anything to you, but he's always somewhere in your line of vision staring intently, biding his time. He displays his strenght by always trying to hunt for the biggest prey, not even washing the blood from his fur. His sheer size is enough to scare any other beastmen around, cocky bastard smiling at the their terrified faces. One time you accidentally bumped into him and he started purring loudly and nuzzling against your body. If you feel something hard poking against your thigh just ignore it.
While lost in the other part of the forest you stumble upon another bear beastmen roaming around. Bear Nikolai looks at you like you're the cutest thing in the world. He thinks Price is getting sloppy, because if he was your mate, he wouldn't even let you get close to the entrance of the den before he would be on you. And he is so big, smooth black fur catching the light as his paws are on each side of your head, body against a tree as he whishpers in your ear all the dirty things he plans on doing to you. Somehow you manage to slip away from his hold and start running, the sound of laughter from behind that gets closer and closer doesn't ease your nerves. You hope you'll be able to get back to Price before the other bear catches you.
cw: 18+ brief smut. possessive Price but ilike a hot and endearing way and you play into it and oops this got sweet at the end. (so sorta like flirting with other doods while with Price but Price is obsessed with it. Price x Reader.
You feel his hand, wide and warm, pressing low against your spine as you laugh at something the bartender says. His touch doesn’t stop you, it just settles there on your back, possessive and patient, like he’s not worried at all.
John Price watches the exchange with the calm of a man who knows exactly who you’ll go home with.
Eyes half-lidded, drink in hand, the cut of his jacket open enough to show the holster under his arm and the slight flush beneath the hair on his chest. He watches through his lashes, amused when the bartender leans in closer. He lets you play the part, bright smile, coy little tilt of your head.
You take a slow sip, not too much, just enough to taste the sharp citrus and the heat underneath. Then you slowly pivot, one hand on his chest as you lean in and kiss him with it still in your mouth. Cool and slick. Sweet and teasing.
His lips part for you and he groans low in his throat when he realizes what you’re doing. You press the rest of the liquor into him, swallow it down between you both, your mouth chasing his until your breath is warm and wet against his beard.
He reaches down with a smug smile to adjust his half-chubbed cock.
You smile and turn right back around like it never happened, laughter still in your voice as your hand drapes lazily over another man’s thigh.
Price’s grip tightens almost imperceptibly at your hip.
But he doesn’t say a word. Not yet.
Because the game’s still on, and he’s nothing if not patient.
Later, when it’s dark and quiet and your clothes are scattered from the door to the bed, you don’t even get a smart remark out before he’s over you, opening you up—not that it takes much—and pushing inside, thick and slow and stretching you open like he’s meant to.
“Not jealous,” he rasps into your neck, beard brushing rough against your skin. “But you go putting your hand on another man like that—gives me a reason to remind you of things.”
He moves deep and unhurried, heavy balls slapping against you from behind. Like he needs you to hear every thought in his head: You’re mine. Mine. Mine.
Your legs tremble, breath hitching as he presses you into the mattress, every thrust dragging along the nerves that make you ache and twitch and beg. But just as your hips begin to press back, moaning unashamedly into your pillow, just as you're chasing it, he stills.
And he just... stays buried inside you with his hand splayed low on your belly, holding you still and full.
“You’ll take it like this,” he murmurs, in a voice that curls around you spine. “You’ll sleep like this.”
You squirm and whine. Hips shifting helplessly beneath his weight. “John—please—”
“I am pleasing you,” he says, and kisses your temple, then your neck, then pulls your chin to kiss your mouth slow and open and deep, just like he is inside you.
And maybe you fall asleep like that, him curled around your back, frustrated, full and aching, tucked under his weight with his hand still on your hip.
But it’s the way you wake up that makes up for all of it.
There's early light filtering through the curtains, the warmth of his chest pressed tight against your back, and the soft nudge of him against your ass.
His breath is warm against your neck. His fingers are curled over your ribs, gentle and loose. And you know this man has cried between your thighs more than once. That he holds your hands like they're his salvation. That the first time you told him you loved him, he held you so deep into his chest and whispered it back like it was sacred.
You smile softly, moving your hand to lace in his and let him hold you.
He’s never letting you go. And God, you love him for it.
I'm playing Crime Scene Cleaner and all that floor scrubbing got me thinking...
Content: gender neutral reader, morally grey reader, organized crime, violence, murder
Yandere!Crime Boss who needs someone to clean up his frequent messes, and you happen to be in desperate need of money. He will reward your hard work handsomely; all he demands in return is loyalty. You quickly learn what it means to stray from his orders, carrying body after body, and mopping never-ending pools of blood.
Well now, you're not half bad, are you? He didn't think you had it in you. A regular, law-fearing citizen, now disposing of leftover bullets and hiding condemning evidence from the cops.
"What am I supposed to do with all these drugs and stacks of bills?" you ask over the burner phone, staring at the lavish table you'd stumbled upon during your latest cleaning service.
"Consider it your tip", he responds with a chuckle, somewhat taken aback by your honesty.
What a ridiculous twist. He finds himself trusting you more than his own men. You always do your job flawlessly, no questions asked, and for whatever reason you never fail to provide a full report of your findings. He couldn't care less if you left with a suitcase full of cash. He doesn't need the leftover scraps from some dealer who tried to turn on him. Bold of you to assume he even noticed anything of value in the first place. He merely drove over, pulled the trigger, and returned to his usual business.
"Did you bring enough body bags-" he begins, but his voice is cut short.
This must be the first time he's actually seen you in person. You're no longer a string of sentences over the phone, and he certainly didn’t expect you to be this cute.
"Uh huh, it's all here", you state casually, holding a bucket of water. You gaze at the gory scene and whistle. "It's going to be a long night", you add.
"Do you have anything to do afterwards?", he asks with an unfamiliar hesitancy, swiftly recovering himself. "Actually, it doesn't matter. Finish here, and I'll pick you up once you're done."
"What? Am I in trouble?" you ask, eyes widening in fear.
"Dumbass! I'm inviting you out. It's my treat", he huffs with indignation.
What an absurd implication. Why would he have any reason to threaten you? Surely you must know by now that as long as you behave, you've nothing to worry about.
You won't regret your obedience. He'll make sure of it.
Imagine teasing Konig all day. The lightest touches is all it takes to get him needy. And you've really been laying it on thick. He's been walking around with a badly concealed boner all day. Flushed and panting under his hood. Trailing after you like a lost puppy. But you refuse to go any further. Rubbing a hand down his back before returning to your work. Tugging him closer by his belt loops just to show him the papers you were doing. He was losing it. Unable to get anything done.
So the moment you were alone he jumped you. It was in the elevator, heading up to meet Price in his office. Halfway through the ride you reached out to grope his ass. His fist slammed into the emergency stop button and he pushed you against the wall. Forcing a gasp from your lungs.
"Verdammte... Schlampe..." He groaned in your ear, hastily tugging off your clothes. Ignoring how your head knocked back against the elevator wall with a breathless laugh. This was exactly what you had been hoping for. To push him to the point where he would take what he needed.
Thank god he hadn't torn any of your clothes in his attempt to rid you of them. Exiting the lift afterward with ripped apart cargos would have been quite humiliating. You grinned to yourself as you pictured it. The flush of embarrassment as you had to walk past your fellow soldiers with all of them knowing what had happened to you.
All thoughts were knocked out of your mind when he slid his cock into you. Even at his most desperate he had always prepped you before hand. He must be really needy, or perhaps he was punishing you. The stretched burned, but it wasn't entirely unpleasant. At least while he was still. Which didn't last long.
You wouldn't be surprised if he fucked you right through the wall with the force he was going at. Your own whines mingling with his muffled grunts filling the little metal box. He had easily lifted you off your feet. One hand under your knee to lift it up, while the other squeezed your ass to press you close to him as he pounded you into oblivion.
Konig was mumbling something in your ear. But it was entirely lost on you. Unable to think of anything but his massive cock splitting you in two. His heavy balls slapping against your ass with each brutal snap of his hips. You didn't even realise it but you were crying. Weeping helplessly as he forced your body head first into the most incredible orgasm.
Walking into Price's office afterwards was a tad humiliating. Limping slightly, face blotchy from your tears. You were met with a disapproving frown from John and a smug grin from Soap. Who only grinned wider when he turned the captains computer screen towards you. Showing the grainy video of you getting your brains fucked out in the lift.
"Oh fuck." You whispered. Staring dumbly at your own blissed out expression.
With a proud laugh Johnny clapped Konig on the shoulder.
Ghost is ugly, okay? He just is, and it's nothing he really thinks about.
Scruffy hair, scars all over, sunken eyes, and a nose that's been broken too many times. He wasn't exactly good-looking to begin with, but life hasn't been kind to him.
So why the hell do you insist on saying the most embarrassing shit to him while the others are around?? Ghost takes his mask off to eat in the privacy of the locked rec room, everyone gathered around the sofas pushed together, and the first thing you says is "wow. You have beautiful lashes. Our babies would be models."
Ghost blushes, grumbles something into his spoonful of rice, and refuses to meet your eyes lest he actually turn beet red. There was a time he would have been upset. He would have been convinced you were mocking him with all the compliments. Now though? After months of you still telling him his lips are a pretty shade of pink and his hair glitters in the sun? He has no choice but to accept your compliments as actually genuine.
Still, it doesn't stop the embarrassment. If anything, it makes it worse. Because he knows you were actually thinking about what his and your babies would look like, and now he's thinking about it, and Ghost would really prefer not to get a boner in front of his teammates actually.
Thinking about German shepherd shifter!reader?? Who was a previous member of the shadow company experiencing culture shock with the 141??
Meeting price and feeling so confused when he doesn't so much as reach for your collar beyond giving it a raised brow. It feels odd not having his dominance reasserted, and it leaves you feeling off-kilter. Sure, you know implicitly that price is in charge, but you also feel like an outsider without him claiming ownership.
Then you meet soap and ghost, and truly feel as though you've fallen into some twisted reality. Both of them are undoubtedly shifters by the smell alone, but they greet you in human form. Not only that, they greet you like shifters while in human form, reaching out their wrists for you to scent them.
And god, don't they realize that price is right there? your nerves raise as he watches passively. Is this a test? Surely, it's a test. So you gently pull away, subtly turn your head in a rejection that has soap's lips curling. Still, when you hold out a hand for a human greeting, they accept.
But it doesn't stop there. Every interaction for the weeks following just feels...wrong. Like everyone was in one some ruleset that you were left to figure out. Ghost spent a lot of his time shifted, but you hardly ever saw Soap shift? And even in their dog forms, Gaz and Price talked to them like humans?
Eating is horrible, because they all seem to agree on team meals. Eating at a table always made you nervous, especially when everyone was familiar. The few times you joined your peers in the mess back with the shadows, people were constantly stealing food off each other's plates and laughing around. Except you weren't allowed to take food back because that's rude and it leaves your gums aching whenever a hand strays too close to your plate even if they never grab.
The worst part has to be sleeping, though. You're used to a crate, or maybe a small space under another shadow's bed, but now you have a whole room? And it feels so empty. It makes your skin crawl and leaves you pacing anxious circles into the floor. The space is so big, and your bed is too low to the ground to fit under it, but you don't want to move anything in case Price gets mad and– you end up not really sleeping at all.
Every single day, while you run laps in the morning before breakfast, the guys gather around and worry. Worry about you, about what they're doing wrong. How the hell they can even begin to help you when you reject them at every turn.
While you feel like all your bids for attention are being ignored, they wait desperately for you to reach out.
(I don’t know if you’re still doing these or not so please feel free to disregard. Also, all my submissions are always for whoever you are vibing with, not all characters. )
SOA/Mayans - Never Have I Ever
Who asks the best/worst questions, who’s always out first, who’s always left standing, who lies and gets called out and gets butthurt and starts asking targeted questions, who admits their darkest secrets with no shame, who refuses to play, who uses it as a way to brag, who only asks questions about food instead of sex stuff, etc
Cricket you can send me anything any time don’t even worry about it. This blog is for you. 😌💛
SOA:
Jax, a man who has done and is up for doing anything, always gets out quickly. Does he use it as an opportunity to brag?? Absolutely. He will exaggerate even if the core story is based in the truth, and he’ll do it with that cocky little smirk on his face.
Happy originally thinks it’s a dumb idea and says that he won’t play, but he ends up putting his two cents in anyway. Mildly scaring for everyone involved and they try to make sure that if they play it again, they don’t play it around him. No disrespect but the man is about it and he has no filter so they all learn a lot about him in a short amount of time. No amount of alcohol can prepare you for that.
Tig brags almost as much as Jax. He will also use the opportunity to zero in like a goddamn heat-seeking missile on whoever he is beefing with at the time. He doesn’t get heated about it, and he’s usually out pretty quick too, because it’s Tig, but he lives for making other people uncomfortable.
Opie hasn’t played since he was a teenager. He doesn’t want people knowing him like that and I respect that.
The drunker Chibs is, the more into it he gets. He will also blow up the spot of anyone he catches lying and he will not be kind about it. He will not hesitate to air out anyone and everyone’s dirty laundry, especially after a few drinks.
The idea of the game petrifies Juice. But he also knows that if he doesn’t play, it’s going to make everything worse for him. So he goes along with it and divulges as little information as possible. Tries to steer the conversation in new directions with out of left field questions but he’s never successful. Bless him.
Half-Sack, my beloved. He outlasts them all and I truly love that for him.
Piney doesn’t play but he is more brutal than Chibs if he catches someone in a lie. Chibs will at least try to be funny about it but Piney will make you hate everything about yourself in the process of telling everyone your business.
Mayans:
The idea for the game almost always starts with Angel or Coco. And they are ironically two of the boys who get out the fastest.
Angel tries to use it as an opportunity to show off. And sometimes it works. But he is also one of the first to go on the offensive if he thinks that someone is trying to get after him about something. Touch the wrong nerve and suddenly everyone is going to know everything about you that you never wanted them to. And he’ll shoot you a shrug and a sarcastic, “Oops.”
Gilly is the other one who gets butt-hurt super quickly. You know there’s a lot of shit going on underneath the comedian exterior. But he also asks some of the best questions. Sometimes they come about because he’s going in on someone, but he’s also just there to have a good time and it works out for everyone.
Coco stays telling everyone more than they need to know. He’s way far past being embarrassed about anything. You might get a dissertation or two along the way but trust me he’s down to play and you won’t ever catch him in a lie about it.
EZ plays but gives up as little information as possible if anyone presses him further about his response to a statement. Angel will go after him hard because that’s just how he is. And every now and then EZ will drop a strangely specific statement, but he does it so nonchalantly that everyone except Angel just chalks it up to EZ being...EZ. After a few rounds, though, people start to realize that perhaps Golden Boy and Boy Scout aren’t really the most accurate names for him anymore.
Taza and Bishop start off on the outskirts of it, just wanting to listen to the guys dig themselves into something that they can’t dig themselves out of, but they do eventually get roped into the game. They’re also the ultimate pair of lie-detectors, but after a few drinks Bishop is the only one out of the two of them who will savagely call out any of the guys on their bullshit. Taza sits back and watches with a laugh.
I think the game would be utter chaos with either club and I think that’s amazing. 😂
Could I get a sick, blanket, cookies with my boy Juicey?
If it’s not too late! Thank you :) ily
First of all I AM SO HAPPY YOU'RE HERE!!! And maaaaa'am I am here all week. I wanna give every last person that has supported me and be ben so lovely a chance to make a request. Cuz on the real...I luv y'all.
****************************************
Juice had been sick for days so you were were thrilled to be back to normal. Hopping back on the couch, he snuggled you up against him under the warm blanket, grabbing two more Christmas cookies.
You pressed your lips down on a smile when he squeezed your hip pulling you back into him a little more. The brushes of his thumb on the underside of your breast were a little harder to ignore. You reached back finger stroking the back of his neck until he groaned lightly.
Summary: On a run into a nearby town, Daryl and Y/N encounter a bad group of men. Daryl takes a beating and you get taken. He won't stop until he finds you.
Daryl Dixon x F!Reader, 5.7k words
Era: Prison! Post-Woodbury merge, pre-attack
TW: SA and attempted rape. Please don't push your boundaries!
Here it is, my first Walking Dead fanfiction and the first fic I've written or published in over 8 years. Feel free to leave comments, criticism, requests, and anything else! Hopefully, yall enjoy!
3 hours and 27 minutes.
That’s how long Daryl had been searching for you. How long you’ve been missing, since you’ve been taken.
It was supposed to be a normal run, calm even. A few days ago, the two of you found a seemingly untouched bookstore 30 minutes from the prison. You wanted to go in, practically begged Daryl to stop. To your immense disappointment, he refused.
“Daryl, please!” You pouted from the passenger seat of the truck.
He could hear the whine in your voice and focused his attention on the road. If he looked over and saw your full lips in a frown, he would give right there. He would do anything for you, and you knew it. This trick has worked on him since the early days of the quarry since you walked up to him and asked him to watch over you while you cleaned off in the water. He didn’t know you, hell, he could hardly stand you or anybody else, but he risked a glance up at your face. Your pretty eyes locked with his for just a moment, but that was all it took. He was yours for good.
“Nah, ain’t cleared. ‘Sides, don’t have enough room as is.” His rough voice answered, doing his best to keep his composure. He didn’t like telling you no. The truck was full of supplies, food and the like, for your group as well as the newcomers from Woodbury. You couldn’t fit goods from the bookstore.
He could feel the disappointment radiating from your side of the truck. He wouldn’t give in, not this time. But-
“We can come back later. Busy with Rick the next few days, but I’ll bring ya back.”
A cheer rang out. “Yes! You promise?” He fought to keep a grin off his face and nodded his affirmation. He glanced your way and saw the brightest smile on your face.
You excitedly began planning what you would grab, talking about all the books you could bring back for the children, for Carol, for yourself. Daryl didn’t recognize most of the titles and certainly none of the authors, but that didn’t matter. He would do anything for you, just to see that beautiful smile.
That was three days ago. Now, instead of gushing over your books, you were missing. Daryl doesn’t know how they knew you were coming, but not long after your arrival at the shopping center that housed the bookstore, you were both attacked.
Daryl somehow convinced you to stay in the truck while he cleared the stores of either side of your target. If anything went wrong in the main store, you could retreat through the connected alleyway and escape through one of these. The stores were clear of both people and walkers. Thinking back, he should’ve known better. If he wasn’t so wrapped up in the image of you waiting for him, maybe he would’ve been suspicious. Maybe he would have used his fucking brain.
Instead of doing his damn job and making sure you were safe, they got the jump on him. Daryl turned a corner on his way back to you and took a mean punch in the face. He stumbled back and tried to fire his crossbow at the attacker, but he was disarmed by another man. He took hit after hit, doing his best to fight back and hoping to God they didn’t see you outside. He was on the ground taking boots to the ribs and punches to the face when he heard your voice. No.
“Daryl?” You weren’t in the store yet, but you would be in no time. The hits lightened up at the sound and something akin to fear and desperation made him call out to you. He couldn’t risk you walking in and not knowing what awaited you. He wouldn’t be able to help you if he tried.
“Y/N, go! Get out-” He was cut off by a hard hit with the butt of a gun. The world spun and Daryl couldn’t see past the kaleidoscope of pain.
Despite his warning, you skidded to a stop in the doorway, taking in the scene in front of you.
“Well, hello there, gorgeous. Y/N, is it? Aren’t you a pretty thing. Name’s Robert.” A voice from above spoke and he vowed to cut the man’s tongue from his throat. He could hear the threat. You needed to get out of here before they hurt you or worse.
“Ya touch her and I swear to God...” Daryl growled. He was going to skin this man alive. He would cut his fingers off and feed them to him. Him and his buddies were going to wish they never spoke to you.
“God?” Robert huffs. “What are you and God gonna do? Huh?” He sauntered over to you. For every step the man took towards you, you retreated until you hit the wall. Daryl didn’t know why the hell you didn’t just run when he told you to. He wasn’t worth risking your life over.
When you were backed into a corner, Robert grinned. The fear on your face was exactly what that asshole wanted. He laid a hand against your throat and caressed your chin with his thumb. If Daryl could stand, he wouldn’t have no hand.
“W-what do you want?” Your eyes flicked back and forth from the threat in front of you to Daryl’s bloody form on the ground. He could see the anger and fear on your face and was furious at himself for getting the two of you into this position. If he just paid attention…
“I want to take that mouth of yours out for a test run, but I have a feeling you like to bite.”
Fuck this. Daryl lashed out at the closest person, and they dropped to one knee. Before anyone could react, he hauled himself up and kicked the same spot and was rewarded with a sickening crunch. Despite the burning in his ribs and chest, he spun around and delivered a right cross to the next man. He dropped and Daryl stalked towards you but was stopped in his tracks by the tell-tale click of a safety releasing.
“Take another step and I’ll blow her little brains all over the wall. Don’t think I won’t just because she’s a nice piece of ass.” The gun was pressed firmly against your forehead leaving no room to disarm him. The first tear rolled down your cheek as your chin quivered. Without looking away from Daryl, Robert leaned forward and slowly licked it off your face. You whimpered and tried to withdraw. The sound broke something in him, he would do anything to never have to hear you sound so helpless again.
“Now you are going to sit your ass down and behave. Don’t make me hurt her.” Daryl wanted nothing more than to bash the fucker’s face in, but he couldn’t risk any more pain coming to you.
Shaking from the restraint, he forced himself backwards. One of the men grabbed him and shoved him onto his knees. He leaned in and locked eyes with Daryl.
“You broke my friend’s leg. Either you or the girl has to pay for that.” His rank breath invaded Daryl’s space and he glared daggers at him. His breath came out in huffs as he tried to keep his rage under control. The constant threats weren’t helping him restrain himself.
Daryl jerkily nodded. “Take it from me. Just leave her ‘lone.” He heard you cry out and instinctively broke eye contact to search for you. You were in the same spot, not having moved an inch. You looked devastated and he found it hard to keep eye contact with you, knowing he couldn’t help.
Tears continued to roll down your face as you sobbed. “Don’t- Don’t hurt him. Just let him go. Let him go and I’ll come with y’all.” What the hell were you thinking? He wasn’t going to let them take you anywhere. They could take their anger out on him, but they couldn’t have you. He was about to voice these thoughts before Robert spoke up.
“How about we hurt him and take you anyway?” He grinned maliciously, looking between the two of you. He was enjoying this display of emotion, and it made Daryl sick to his stomach.
His minions wasted no time and took Daryl for round 2 of his beatdown. He didn’t try to fight back; he kept his eyes locked on you. You would be okay. The longer they focused on him, the more chance for you to get away.
You could protect yourself if he couldn’t, he had made sure of that. Back at the farm, when Shane was becoming a threat to everyone, he taught you everything he knew. He was terrified you would be alone with him and in danger, so he taught you how to defend yourself.
He hated seeing the tears glistening in your eyes, hated being the cause of them, but if you were crying then you were alive. That’s all that mattered.
Daryl’s vision was getting hazy. He knew that if he went unconscious you would be alone and in danger, but he couldn’t stop it. He was sure he heard you calling his name before everything faded to black.
Daryl wasn’t sure how long he was unconscious for. His wounds stung, and the busted skin from the boots was bleeding steadily, so it couldn’t have been long. The blood on the floor was still wet.
The first thing he noticed was the silence. His hearing was sharp from years of hunting experience, and he knew there was nothing, undead or alive, in the store.
Where the hell were you?
He managed to get himself off the ground and ignored the immense pain he was in. It hurt like a bitch, but he would live. Blood and cracked ribs hadn’t stopped him before and it certainly wouldn’t now, not without knowing you were safe.
Robert and his men took Daryl’s crossbow but not his knives. While this put him at a disadvantage, he relished the idea of looking into their eyes while he gutted them. You were his.
He found your hunting knife not far from where you last stood. They must have forced you to disarm. If they were smart, which they clearly weren’t, he grumbled, then they would have patted you down. They didn’t see you as the threat you could be and so they were unaware of the second knife in your possession.
Something flared in his chest as he realized that it was his knife you were armed with. You took it some weeks ago and never gave it back. To be honest, watching you use it to kill walkers and train made his heart light up. At least he was with you in some capacity.
Daryl followed the disturbances on the ground. The parking lot was covered in dirt and leaves, so he could get an idea of which direction they went. There were two possible paths: the road or the woods. And because these dicks didn’t know who they fucked with; they went with the latter. Stupid sons of bitches. They walked right into his domain.
Y/N’s POV
Oh, these bastards are gonna pay.
The leader, Robert, had a hand wrapped around my waist. He was leading me into the woods and away from the shopping center. The creep’s hand kept wandering to my ass and I fought the urge to stab him in the throat now. I would get the pleasure of killing him but the other two would be able to subdue me quickly. It was better to wait.
“Still thinking about your archer? I’m sure he’s dead by now. Left the doors open for our rotting buddies to get a free meal.” His hand squeezed around my waist. I was sick of him touching me.
“Fuck you, you rapey asshole.” I spat. The only reason I was so meek in the store was in the hopes that it could help Daryl. Now he’s back there hurt while we are parading through the woods. No reason to keep my attitude in check now.
Robert’s hand disappeared from my side and a resounding smack filled the air as he backhanded me. I nearly fell to the ground, stumbling from the force, but he yanked me upright and slammed me into a tree.
“You’ll learn to watch your mouth, girl. Keep that attitude in check or I’ll have to show you something better to do with it.” He leaned in and took a deep breath, his nose tracing the skin of my shoulder up to my pulse point. I shuddered and did my best to not physically rebel. Handsy, I could handle. I didn’t want to see what would happen if I gave them a reason to go any further.
A rustling in the trees drew everyone’s attention and thankfully, Robert away from me. Daryl?
It was not my archer; it was a small herd of walkers. From my spot against the tree, I was the farthest away and had a front row seat. I watched as one of the walkers attacked the dude with the broken leg. He struggled with it for a minute but lost as his leg crumpled under his weight and a chunk of flesh was ripped from his throat.
The man screamed and screamed as his friends fought the others off. I couldn’t help feeling a sick sense of satisfaction and retribution as I watched him slowly die. Daryl breaking that man’s leg just sentenced him to death and helped even the odds. Even when he wasn’t here, he was protecting me.
Robert was using Daryl’s crossbow. His filthy hands were touching Daryl’s crossbow. I almost saw red at the disrespect he was displaying. Despite the dick’s handle on Daryl’s prized possession, I needed to focus on getting away.
I could run while they’re distracted… Unfortunately, Robert and his remaining friend managed to gain the upper hand against the herd before I had time to make my move. The one unnamed guy yanked me up by arm and dragged me towards Robert, who was staring down at his dead friend.
“What a shame. Nick was a good man.” Yeah, right. “He was slowing us down. Saved me the bullet.” He said impassively.
Oh shit. If he only cared about his friend in terms of how he could help or hinder, things could be worse for me than I thought. I needed to get out of here, and soon. As his buddy forced me past Nick’s body, I stumbled and fell to the ground. Blood coated my hands and knees.
“Goddamnit, girl. You that fuckin’ slow?” He seethed in my ear as he dragged me up from the ground.
“Now now, there’s no reason to get mad. Y/N’s just in shock. Never seen someone die by a geek?” Robert asked in his condescending tone. Of course, he thought I was a helpless girl, protected and sheltered from what life is now. Why not give him more reason to doubt my abilities?
“I, uh. Y-yeah. I knew it happened but I’ve never…” My voice wavered. I really needed to sell this. I thought about Daryl, how he was bloody and unmoving on the floor as they dragged me out. He could be dead and not just hurt. Tears sprang in my eyes and I sniffled.
“Well, we’ll keep you safe gorgeous.” Robert moved to take his friend’s place at my side, sending him to walk ahead of us. We edged around the puddle of blood and continued forward.
He didn’t notice me leaving a bloody handprint on the nearest tree.
Daryl’s POV
It wasn’t a hard trail to follow. Robert’s men took large, heavy steps through the foliage. To his relief, Daryl found evidence that you were still walking on your own. Smaller tracks, but not nearly as light as they could be. You weren’t trying to be careful. It was clear that you resisted at first, but someone must’ve forced you forwards, either by gunpoint or otherwise. He hoped it was the latter. Either way, he would find you soon enough.
Daryl followed as quickly and silently as he could. There were little to no walkers for much of the trek. The ones he did encounter, he dispatched quietly. He didn’t want to risk alerting the group of men that he was close behind. After some time, he began to see signs of a scuffle.
What happened here?
Scanning the ground, it was clear to Daryl that you were shoved. The set of feet that were by your side, too close to your side for his liking, stayed in one spot while yours dragged backwards.
The son of a bitch had put his hands on her. If he hurt you… The men were already going to die for taking you, but Daryl could drag it out. No need to make it clean and quick.
He looked at the scene ahead of the tree. Blood, walkers, and a dead body. Daryl’s heart stopped in his chest. He took out the few walkers that were feasting on the body, adding to the pile of corpses already laying in the dirt. He slowly approached the bloody form. His heartbeat in his throat so hard he thought he would choke on it. God, please don’t let it be her, don’t let it be Y/N.
Daryl forced himself to investigate the face of the body on the ground and thought he would cry in relief. It wasn’t you. No, it was one of the men from the stores. The one who’s leg he broke.
A violent grin pulled at the edges of his lips. One down, two to go. Daryl could take two people in a fight. The element of surprise would be on his side if he stayed undetected, a skill he’d perfected.
Standing back up, Daryl looked for a new set of tracks. There were no obvious trails, the walkers would have mucked them up, but there was an odd smear in the blood. Someone had disturbed the pool. Daryl lightly touched the liquid. It was still warm, he couldn’t be more than 5 or 10 minutes behind you now.
He scanned the immediate area and found a mark. It was a bloody handprint, deliberately pressed. Daryl’s fingers ghosted across the stain and a genuine smile crossed his face. My clever girl.
Y/N’s POV
Night fell and Robert stopped to set up a small fire. I left bloody marks on as many trees as possible. If Daryl is out there, he has a path almost all the way to me. If he’s even alive.
“Y/N. Can’t be over there by yourself, sweetheart. Come sit with me.” Robert looked up at me and he eyes shined with something I didn’t want to name. I hesitated. I didn’t want to leave my spot by the tree line. I felt relatively safe over here, where neither of the men could grab me.
“Girl don’t make me ask again. Over here. Now.” I knew I needed to move towards the fire, but my feet wouldn’t shift from their spot. I was pissing them both off, risking a beating or worse with no possible backup. If Daryl were here, he’d be furious.
But that’s it. Daryl isn’t here. It’s me and two violent, unstable men. I started to turn towards into the shadows, but Robert was by my side in a flash. His hand wound itself into my hair and pulled savagely.
I yelped as he dragged me towards the fire by my hair. My scalp was stinging, and no amount of fighting would get him to let up. I wasn’t in a position to force his release, my feet scrambling in the dirt as I fought to pull myself up. I was thrown fully down, and his hand was no longer in my hair.
The split second of relief was gone in a flash as he kicked me in the ribs. I let out a short scream before my breath was knocked from my chest as he kicked again once, twice, three times. They burned more than they should. Steel-toed boots.
“You fucking bitch, I told you to listen to me. Now I gotta punish you because you can’t be good.” Robert crouched by my side as I fought to catch my breath past the burning ache. The other man hovered by my opposite side, effectively blocking me in. Now I’d antagonized both men and lost my chance to get away.
My heart froze in my chest as I heard the clink of a belt buckle. No, no, no. I fought with renewed vigor, trying to shove myself past the men and into the safety of the trees. I only made it a few steps before a hand seized my ankle and I hit the ground. My ribs lit up with pain and I could barely see past the stars in my eyes as I was dragged backwards and flipped up to face Robert. He leaned down to whisper in my ear.
“I like it when you fight. What if I let you go, give you a two-minute head start? Chasing you through the woods would get me so hot.” He groped at me through my shirt and grabbed my chin, forcing me into a rough kiss. There was no way for me to reach Daryl’s knife in my boot, so I did the only thing I could. I bit into his lip and tore it off his face.
Blood rushed onto my face as he let out a hoarse scream and fell backwards. His eyes were wide and stunned.
“Thought you said you could tell I liked to bite.” I stood up and pulled my knife from its hiding spot. His friend grabbed me and punched me hard in the side of the face. I hit the ground and waited. He leaned over my body, looking at me like a bug to be squashed. Just a little closer, asshole.
“I’m going to hurt you, you little-” His threat was cut off with a wet gurgle as I plunged the blade into his throat. I managed to flip around and gain the upper hand, twisting and yanking the blade out. I was absolutely soaked in blood, barely able to see past it, and Robert was getting up.
Fuck. I hesitated for a split second, torn between running and turning around and gutting Robert. He grabbed the crossbow, which was already loaded from our last encounter. As he picked it up, I spun around and bolted for the trees. I make it into the woods, but not before I hear a low whistle, and something hits me in the left side.
I can’t afford to stop and check. I keep running into the woods back the way we came, praying that I can get far enough away before the adrenaline wears off and I start to feel the object stuck in my side. One of Daryl’s bolts. Branches were whipping across my arms and face, leaving stinging marks. My face and ribs throbbed. But I can’t stop.
My breathing ratcheted up and my heart fluttered like a butterfly. I wasn’t watching my feet and I tripped over a root, breaking my fall into someone’s chest.
Daryl’s POV
Although Daryl could track the steps made by the men, your map of blood ensured he was going the right way. He could feel himself getting closer and his body tensing up for the fight. They would have to kill him to keep you.
A high-pitched scream rang through the trees, quickly cut off. Y/N. Daryl would recognize your voice anywhere.
His heart begged him to pick up the pace and run to help you. You sounded terrified. He forced himself to not outright run, he didn’t want to risk you by charging into the area half-cocked and knowing nothing.
Not long after your scream, a second yell was heard. That was clearly a man, one in pain. Daryl abandoned his plan and began to speed towards the sounds. If both you and a man screamed, you could be getting attacked by walkers. Or another group. Or-
Stop it. Fuckin’ quit. He couldn’t play these scenarios out and stay aware of his surroundings. He had to focus on the present and getting you out of there.
A branch snapped a little to his right and Daryl froze. Something, no someone, was coming his way and it wasn’t trying to be quiet. Whoever it was, they were running for their life.
He slid his two knives from their holsters and brought his hands into a defensive position. There. He can see them now. They were short and feminine. Is that-
You had no idea he was right in front of you. He didn’t have time to call out before you stumbled fell right into his chest.
Daryl’s arm instinctively wrapped around you to break your fall. His chest ached by the force of your impact, but it didn’t matter. It was you.
You fought against his chest, screaming and hitting, trying to break free. A small grunt sounded from the body in front of you.
“Please! Please, let me go, let me-” Your voice cracked as it strained under the stress. Tears ran down your face as you struggled uselessly. Daryl wasn’t letting you go for anything, never again.
“Y/N? Y/N, baby, it’s me. It’s me.” Your struggles died down as your body put a name to the voice, your brain slower to catch up. Whiskey, gasoline, grease. Blood. Ocean-blue eyes.
“D-Daryl?” Your voice sounded so small; he could tell you were scared out of your mind and slow to process. Something terrified you.
He tightened his grip on you and swayed you back and forth. “Yeah Y/N. It’s me.”
A sob wracked through your body. It’s him. He’s okay, he’s alive. The tension drained out of you as you sank into his hold. Your knees gave out and he supported your fall, resting you both on the soft leaves coating the ground.
“He- he tried to-” You couldn’t get the sentence out, but you knew he understood. He always did.
He held you as you cried into his neck. Daryl pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head and breathed deeply, needing to ground himself. You smelled the same; cocoa, vanilla, alcohol and something all your own. Blood singed his nose and shocked him back into reality.
He pulled away from the grasp to get a look at your face. You whined and tried to burrow back into him, but he held you by the shoulders. He needed to make sure you weren’t hurt.
“’S okay, just checking ya ain’t hurt. ‘S okay.” It was not okay. Your face was soaked with blood, some of it yours and some of it from the others. There were cuts across your cheeks still weeping blood and a nasty bruise crawling up the right side of your face. Some of the blood was even in your hair. Your shirt was ripped at the collar, exposing (thankfully) bite-less skin, and you had an arm wrapped around your waist as if holding yourself together. His breath stopped at he looked at your torso.
“Y/N.” His voice was quiet and tense, his accent making a more obvious appearance. “The hell ya got a bolt in your side for?”
Oh. That. “He got me when I was gettin’ away, he has your bow. Asshole…” You cursed. Now that you were safe, you could really feel everything. Your eyes started to close. You were exhausted from fighting for your life and he felt like a horrible person for forcing you to stay awake.
“Y/N, darlin’. Need ya awake. Can’t sleep yet.” He lightly patted the non-bruised cheek, making your eyes flutter open. You didn’t look as if you were entirely there. If Daryl had to guess, it was a combination of exhaustion, blood loss, and dissociation.
His blood boiled as he thought about the men who did this to you. He was going to fucking kill them. But he had to patch you up first. He wouldn’t, couldn’t let you out of his sight, not even when he dealt with those men. He thought he would go insane if he couldn’t see or feel you by his side.
Looking down at you, he knew there wasn’t much he could do to help at the moment. He had to keep the arrow in your side until you were back at the prison with Hershel. He quickly stripped his vest and his flannel off. He reached for your waist, but you flinched, and he immediately quit moving. Daryl felt guilty but he took a deep breath. Those assholes tried to force you and you were traumatized. They were the problem, not him.
“’M gonna tie this ‘round your waist, keep tha bolt from movin’. Need ta keep it in so ya don’t bleed out, okay?” His voice was gentle as he waited for your response.
“Mhm. I know you won’ hurt me.” Your words were a bit slurred as you looked up at him. That wasn’t a good sign. You’d lost more blood than he first expected.
As gently as he possibly could, Daryl pulled the flannel around your waist and tight enough to act as a torniquet. You yelped in pain and he wanted to kick himself for hurting you more. No, he wanted to kick those dipshits-
“I got a few more questions, darlin’. Y/N, where are they?” His hands rubbed up and down your arms to keep you awake and to comfort you. Daryl wanted to know where their campsite was. He had a visit to make.
You pointed behind you. “It’s that way, not too far. Only one left’s Robert. Ooh I bet he’s mad.” A tired giggle left your lips. The situation was far from funny, but you couldn’t help it.
“Why’s he mad? Wha’ happened to the other one? Saw the first a’ready.” One hand left your arm and gently rested on your cheek.
You hummed and leaned into Daryl’s touch. “I bit his lip off. He was trying to-. Anyway, the other one’s dead. Got ‘em right here with your knife.” You tapped his jugular softly.
He didn’t know just how proud of you he could be until that moment. He had let you down in the store, but you managed to protect yourself from the worst of it. He didn’t want to think about what might’ve happened if you hadn’t fought back.
“That’s ma girl. I love ya so much.” You looked up and were rewarded with those pretty blue eyes looking back into yours with adoration. You wanted to stay here with him forever, but you knew the situation was time sensitive.
“Let’s go, the camp’s thatta way.” You tried to haul yourself up and almost hit the ground hard. Daryl quickly wrapped an arm around you and supported most of your weight, doing his best to not provoke the bolt still in your side.
The camp wasn’t far at all. Daryl was so close to you, and you had no idea. It would’ve have been a matter of minutes if you hadn’t made your move. But those minutes would have been filled with pain. You were happy he didn’t have to see you like that.
Daryl’s eyes flicked over the dead man’s body and latched onto the sight of Robert with his back to you both. Daryl set you down gently and lifted a finger to his lips in a silent request. You nodded and he crept towards the man at the edge of camp.
Once behind Robert, he purposefully made a noise. Robert spun around and Daryl was lightning fast, nailing him in the face. Robert hit the ground and Daryl was quick to follow. He threw punch after punch, soaking his hands in blood. His ribs burned like hell, but his rage burned brighter.
He pulled back and allowed a moment of reprieve for the time it took to grab one of his knives. Daryl buried the hilt into the man’s shoulder, effectively pinning him. Robert shrieked in pain.
You hated to see the effect this entire day had on Daryl, but you couldn’t help but delight in the attacker’s pain. You wanted to see him bloody and dying. That’s the least he could expect for the damage he caused.
“Promised myself I’d do this when ya’ first laid a hand on her.” Daryl gripped the man’s hand and brutally chopped a finger off. The screams were both nauseating and rewarding. He went on to the next, then the next. Soon the man was left with 6 fingers.
“Shoulda never touched her. Warned ya’, didn’t I?” He grinned animalistically. You’d never seen Daryl so furious, so dangerous. It sparked the smallest amount of fear before you chided yourself. He would never hurt you. These men were asking for it.
“Please, God, please- “Robert begged. He would bleed out soon, but not soon enough to spare himself more pain.
Daryl shook his head. “What’re you and God gonna do?” He mocked. “Nah, ain’t no God out here. Just me and you.”
Something dark curled up in your chest. The lengths this man was willing to go for you…
When Daryl was done, he slit Robert’s throat and watched as he bled out in the dirt. His eyes eventually went dull, and Daryl extracted his blade from his shoulder and wiped them both harshly on the man’s body. He wouldn’t even spare the man from the transformation. No, he could walk the Earth and feast on people. Daryl hoped that there was a part of him alive in there, despite what Jenner said all those months ago.
You watched as Daryl approached and knelt beside you. His hand was pressed to his ribs, which were likely broken. He’d almost forgotten the beating he took. He looked over your body and locked eyes with you.
Daryl is in a sucky relationship but doesn't see it at first. Reader helps him see and later shows him how a good partnership works.
💘 💘 💘
With another invite turned down, you had set out on your own. Not that you enjoyed hunting without Daryl, but he seemed to be preoccupied with his girlfriend.
Again.
It was annoyingly quiet out there, nothing that indicated any animal being near..
Only ..rustling plants. Low, no wind in the trees. You followed the sound, staying low and undetected like Daryl taught you until-
Plap. Plap. Plap. "Hahh please~" Plap. Plap. "Quiet." Followed by a grunt and more skin on skin noise.
You recognized that barked command, having heard it a million times before during Daryl's hunting lessons. Was he really out here fucking his gross girlfriend? That preppy lady wouldn't even know how to function out here let alone be comfortable on the forest floor. Why the hell would he fuck that annoying bitch out here but not you during all those times spent together on your own?
But that's how it was these days. Your dear friend always being followed by that hag of a woman and you being sidelined.
On days it could get so bad you ended up in tears, begging Carol to explain why he was being so weird all of a sudden. She knew you cared deeply for him and didn't like Daryl's lady either and when you returned from your cut short hunting trip you told her about your findings. And of course about Daryl's clearly visible annoyance surrounding the act. You ended up being able to laugh about it all, laying back in a fit of giggles just as Daryl came back home and upon seeing him crying out laughter even harder.
"Ahw pookie, did a walker snag you?" She spoke through the snickering, pointing at her neck and back at him which had him look in the mirror and spot a dark red spot on his neck, immediately turning a deep shade of red in the face as he mumbled a response you couldn't make out.
As he stomped up the stairs, grumbling about a shower you gave each other a look and went back to laughing.
"Man, it's sad. Really." Your words brought some seriousness back into the conversation, seeing your friend was still being tortured on a daily basis but never seeming to be doing anything about it.
You all saw it. He was unhappy. But the majority of the community didn't see that. They didn't know him and only saw their happy friend with her quiet, grumbly boyfriend. The man you wanted to be your quiet, grumbly boyfriend.
Even Rick had tried to get his brother alone for even a short moment to make it clear she was bad for him but no matter where he found the archer, the woman was there too.
Everybody knew when Daryl was working in the garage you left him be, emergencies were fine, and leaving him some lunch with minimal interaction was appreciated but those were his moments to unwind. He needed those and you respected it. He'd make sure to let at least someone know so the word spread amongst his friends who all knew he'd come say hi when he was good to socialize again.
But these last weeks someone apparently didn't feel like those rules applied to her. The garage door was opened, allowing a view of Daryl sitting cross-legged on an old blanket and tinkering on his bike. And then behind him on the toolbox, the top cleared off for her to sit on and her legs resting on the bike's front wheel was the missus. You ever so slowly walked past, having Dog spot you and come up for some attention that he never got from the other one which you found more than sad.
You crouched down and lovingly cuddled up with the canine and ruffled his fur, smiling into his neck and listening in on the endless chattering that came from the woman currently disturbing Daryl's much needed alone time.
'Alright fuck this' you thought to yourself before standing up straight and calling out to her. "I heard you bake some amazing apple treats. Wanna show me how to make them?" Daryl gave you the most shocked look ever, but the feet touching the ground behind him made him smile ever so slightly. The one thing she was almost more fond of than Daryl was her baking. Clearly Carol must have told her.
But nothing beat the relief he felt when the two women walked off and Dog came to rest at his side again. He was gonna have to thank you for that later.
Back in the kitchen you suffered through the endless yapping beside you, barely telling you steps for baking and more bragging about her adventurous time in the woods. As you tried to follow her progress you tried your best to twist her words into your favor, and send away any snarky remarks on what you saw in reality.
All you had to do was survive this ordeal and think about Daryl having some time to clear his head.
And clearing his head he did. He felt refreshed after being left alone with his dog and bike for so long. He missed the quiet, started to hate the sound of his lady's voice almost.
But he couldn't tell her that. It was something he'd have to live with, something to get used to about relationships. Just like she had to live with him having Dog and dragging mud into the house.
That was all normal stuff, right? He had no clue so rolling with it until that warm, happy feeling Glenn and Maggie shared showed up. It was only a matter of time, it was gonna happen soon.
Except it didn't, and Daryl got worse so now it was Rick's turn.
He ran out to where Daryl was following around his woman like a lost puppy through the pantry, grabbing him by the shoulders in fake panic and dragging him along, something with trouble, and Carol, and hurry.
So he followed him into his house, where he stopped in the middle of the room and stared at you and Carol on the couch, and Rick behind him.
"Feeling those butterflies yet?" There was clear mockery in her tone, referring to their argument from a while ago about his lady. About how Carol felt he wasn't happy, and he called it none of her business and going on about how everyone had annoyances from time to time and they'd be fine soon. "Ya can't tell me ev'ryones got them butterflies all'a the time."
"Daryl, she doesn't even look at you." Well, she looked, but not in the way it mattered. Stared, gawked and drooled. He was nothing but a piece in her picture of a fake perfect life. And now was the time for truth. "I saw you with her in the woods." Eyes wide he stared at you, discomfort clear on his face. "You hated it, it was clear on your face, you barely even finished before you were up and away from her."
"Whuh-- why'd ya stay?" He stumbled over every word, his mind blank as he heard your reply. "Needed to know if you loved her for real. To move on, get you out of my mind."
He tried to place your words somewhere they made sense, but he got stuck again like he always did.
"Sideline that for a moment. We're talking about the other issue right now." Rick's order helped to get the conversation back on track, looking his dearest friend in the eyes before he spoke the harsh truth.
"Daryl, I know you don't want to hear this from us, but we're worried and you have to understand.." He needed a breath in preparation. "You're never going to be happy with her."
The front door had opened and closed during his sentence, a clearly angry girlfriend rounding the corner. One who had heard his words.
"What the hell are you saying? That's a lie and you know it!" She was face to face with Rick now, giving Daryl a stern look to help defend her. "Who do you think you are to make that assumption! Of course he's happy, he'd tell me if he wasn't!" She went from screaming to pointing aggressively as well. First at Carol. "She's probably just jealous that he likes my baked goods more!"
And then you. "And she.. She's just jealous of what me and Daryl have! You need to mind your own business, all of you!!" She huffed in annoyance.
"Wow." You spoke in the short moment of silence. "Can't believe you can fuck someone with a voice like that. Instant turn off for me."
Now there were four pairs of wide eyes staring at you. Two trying their hardest not to laugh, one in utter shock and one red-faced and ready to throw hands. Not that she'd win against someone who had trained to fight with a cop and a hunter.
She took one step towards you, hands balled into tight fists and brows furrowed in anger when a hand stopped her. "Touch 'er and yer walker bait."
Daryl had stopped her from approaching you. She'd ways obey her loving boyfriend, he loved her for that. "Daryl, honey she-" "Quiet!" He barked the order loud enough to startle everyone in the room, tears slowly forming in the offended woman's eyes. "Why would you let her say that?" She still continued. "You love my voice, my stories when we cuddle.." God, imagine loving your voice that goddamn much. "You said so when we visite--" "I said QUIET. Ya never fuckin' listen do ya?" The initial shock brought the tears to spill. Pressing her lips in a thin line as she sniffled.
You took the opportunity to speak up. "The only reason I asked you about those bland, boring pastries of yours was to give him-" You pointed at Daryl who kept his position in the middle of the group." "-some goddamn peace and quiet. You know, the only thing he actually wants when he's working in the garage." You scoffed at her ignorance. "Funny how everyone here knows, except for his Girlfriend. who loves him 'so, so much'." She went from angry glaring at you to staring at her boyfriend with her best sad eyes. "D.. Daryl? She's lying.. right? Y.. You love me."
No. No he didn't. He realized that now, he only thought he did when she showed him kindness and interest.
He opened his mouth to respond but no word came out. None that went through his head would end this conversation without conflict.
"She's.. I uh." He looked around as if words would appear is he searched hard enough but he quickly realized there was only one clear answer to be given.
The truth.
"Nah, I don'. M'sorry." He had turned back to face her but still hadn't found the courage to look her in the eye, the guilt eating him alive. He didn't want to hurt her. Hurt anyone, but in the process he was hurting himself.
"Liar." Her voice cracked, spirit broken and defeated. "Don't lie to me you love me!"
In her yelling she took a step forward, face now inches away from Daryl's.
"Nah." He repeated again. It stung but she needed to hear him and there it was again, right in front of him but not registering his words. She never truly saw him, heard him, loved him like his found family loved him.
"I don' love ya." Only now did he lift his gaze to meet hers, seeing the tears, the sadness and the anger.
"M'sorry."
She just stared, shaking her head, words lost for once as she cried.
The whole room felt heavy with emotion. It was never the plan to have this talk turn into what it was quickly becoming.
"A- are you.." her words barely came out between sniffs and hiccups. "Leaving me..? Y- you can't.."
"Look," Daryl had to dig deep for the right words, and begged they would work. "I never wanted ta hurtya, s'just.. We jus' ain't a match." He had kept his gaze on her, hoping his eyes would speak what his mouth couldn't. "This.. Us. It ain't workin' fer me." A sigh left him at her silence. He stepped past her, finding the large chair in the corner of the room and sitting down, needing a serious break with how his head was close to overflowing.
A loud sniff left her as she mumbled an okay and left. No further words, just an okay and out she went. Rick made a mental note then to send someone to check on her later. He suggested Daryl to go rest downstairs and take some time off jobs to clear his mind before wishing you and Carol a good day and heading off as well.
"Well, come on." You got a pat on the shoulder from Carol, who lead you off the couch. "You go take Dog for a nice long walk around the community while I go make some comfort food, alright?"
With a nod you retreated downstairs to find Dog napping on Daryl's bed, having to wake him to come with you to get some much needed fresh air for you, and some exercise for Dog.
The community was quiet around dinnertime, having everyone inside with their family, friends and housemates. It was perfect for thinking, commenting on stuff to Dog who padded alongside of you. You should have brought a ball to play with.
Back home Carol was busying herself in the kitchen, all her focus on cooking this meal to keep her from talking to Daryl. He needed the quiet so his head could do some serious sorting out.
You returned to Carol finishing up dinner and watched as Dog quickly made his way over to Daryl and rest his head in his lap.
You joined Carol in the kitchen and helped with plating the food and rinsing pans before leaving for the living room, handing Daryl a plate and eating in silence.
It was clear you weren't talking today and each went on with their lives.
It took a week for Daryl to be back in his usual routine, not avoiding people who could ask questions but just doing his jobs and runs like he normally would.
So now it was time for that talk.
Surprisingly he was the one that came yo you over dinner, having Carol as a buffer to fill in when he'd fall silent made it a bit easier to initiate the conversation.
Of course he had talked to Carol before alone, not knowing how to respond to your words in the first place he wanted some knowledge up front.
"Ya like me, in a boyfriend-girlfriend way?" Daryl's sudden words had you almost choke on your food, giving yourself a moment to breathe before nodding. "Yeah I do." It was no use denying it after what you said last time. And it probably took.him a lot to even start this conversation.
"Can ya tell me how tha' would work." He played around with the food on his plate, needing to keep his hands somehow busy. "If I said yes to it, I mean."
Now you gave him a sweet smile and happily told him. "I guess we'd share a bedroom, whenever you'd be ready for that. And I'd make sure to ask before I kiss you and all that."
"She'd also not kick Dog out and respect your alone time." Carol added with a fork pointed at you both, to which you agreed.
"I jus' ain't sure this is fer me, ya know. I'on wan' things ta get weird." Him admitting his fear was already an important part of any relationship, which you explained to him before adding, "we can give it a trial run, yeah? You can tap out whenever you feel like it's too much, yeah? We'll go at your pace." holding your hand out for him to take it.
Carol had snuck out while you talked and now busied herself in the kitchen to still listen and hop in when needed. She stared at your waiting hand, and Daryl's as he moved it ever so slow to rest it on top of yours. "I like ya too. Should've seen tha' earlier. An' m'sorry fer not seein' yer interest in me."
You gave his hand a little squeeze and so a relationship was started.
Very, very slowly.
Daryl now hovered around when you busied yourself in the kitchen, offered to help more just for the sake of being near you. He slowly worked up the courage to rest his hands on you as he stood around and realized quickly he loved to have his arms around you while you cooked, moving along with you across the counter.
"Daryl," His hands left you immediately, feeling like he overstepped. "Oh, no please, keep your hands on me I don't mind." You let out a laugh as you took his hands and placed them on the side of your ribs. "I just wanted to know if you enjoyed me returning the favor." You gave him a look over your shoulder and watched him as he faked deep thoughts. "I think I'd like yer hands on me, yeah."
You brought over some lunch in a basket. At Daryl's garage you whistled for Dog and gave the basket to him. He happily carried it over to Daryl, handle in his mouth and tail wagging.
Just as you wanted to walk off you were called back over. "Wanna share lunch?" His question shocked you, knowing he never liked people bothering him in the garage so being asked to stay was ..weird. But you stayed anyways and shared a peaceful lunch with Daryl.
You weren't sharing a bed yet. Taking things slow was your tactic, so you'd wait for Daryl to ask, or for him to mention it in conversation when the topic allowed it to be slipped in.
He hadn't yet so you were in bed alone, almost asleep when a knock woke you up. "Yeah?" You called out to whoever it was. The door opened to reveal Daryl in a pair of sweats and an old tee. "M'sorry fer wakin' ya. I wanna try'n sleep 'ere tonight."
His words were like a dream come true, almost literally with you so close to dozing off and scooted over to let him into the bed. The warmth that surrounded him felt good, and hearing your voice whisper a soft good night to him felt right. He returned the words and carefully took a hand to rest it on your side.
He slept through the entire night after years of waking at every creak or caw. When he woke up the first thing he saw was your sleeping form and he knew he wanted that every day. "G'morning, Dee." Your voice sounded like heaven, even in its groggy morning state. "Hmm mornin'." Hw grumbled with a smile. You loved that smile. You wanted to kiss that smile over and over again, but before you got the chance to finish that thought he had made the first move. He moved closer to you, face an inch away as he took a second to steady himself and ever so softly press his lips against yours.
The next night he only went downstairs to bring his pillow with him and moved to your room again, this time letting you settle against him as you got comfortable and again slept through the whole night.
Slowly your cabinet got rearranged to hold Daryl's clothes as well, he'd pull you against him as you both slept.
But maybe tonight he'd try something more than sleeping.
Daryl wasn't a stranger to sex these days, he just wasn't a big fan of it. Sure, it felt nice and he'd get the job done but it never felt like he thought it'd feel.
He hoped it would feel different with you.
You were already in bed when he came out of the shower, wanting to be clean if you were going to be intimate tonight. His arms snaked around yours and pulled your body against his under the covers, pressing the effects of his shower thoughts against your backside as he softly kissed the back of your neck.
"Dee?" You let out a content sigh at his eagerness all of a sudden. "Hmhm. Wanna touch ya." You responded by pressing your ass harder against his cock, grinding against him in slow but steady motions. "I'd love that, please." Words were important to Daryl, he needed his yes's and no's to make sense of these type of situations. Now that he had his yes he slowly made progress by slipping one leg out of his boxers and pulling down your underwear as well.
His cock was back against your ass as his hand snuck down your front and found his way between your folds. His rough fingers felt so good, having you let out a soft gasp as he slipped two fingers into you. You moaned along with his movements, loving the feeling of his thick digits pumping in and out of you. Your hand made its way between the two of you to touch him, moving the hem of his shirt out of the way to take him into your hand properly. Your fingers curled around his cock and pump slowly, soft rhythmic squeezes and pumps had his breathing pick up, almost whining at the touch. After a bit of more lazy touches you started to want more, positioning his length between your legs. He removed his fingers to assist positioning himself at your entrance and carefully moving his his to push into you.
You moaned at the initial stretch, having missed the feeling of being with someone so long. Your hips moved back to meet his on their own and Daryl noticed, enjoying the welcome feeling of his partner joining in the movements. His hand slid underneath your hip as the other trailed up to your chest, lingering just off your breast. With a soft giggle you took his hand and moved it to where he wanted it to be and squeezed softly. Behind you Daryl let out a delicious sound, making you turn just enough so you could watch him. One of your hands reached to scratch at his chin fluff as the other went to cup his balls between your legs, softly kneading them with every thrust of his hips.
His pace picked up and his groans deepened. "This okay for you?" Your voice came out in huffs, watching his face contort in pleasure. "Yeah. Keep touchin', s'good."
You were more than happy to oblige and keep up your gently pawing at his balls and moved your other hand to tangle in his hair, softly scratching his scalp and moving in closer for a kiss. His lips slotted perfectly against yours now after nights of figuring each other out before sleep.
Daryl was enjoying himself. And if your sounds were anything to go by, you were too. Your moans were slowly turning into whines of 'more' and 'please'. The hand that held your breast before now slid further up to your throat as he angled your head by the jaw to deepen the kiss as the hand on your hips helped to roughen his pace. Your sounds, now muffled by his lips were music to his ears and the squeeze of your walls spurred him on more than anything.
"M'close.." You almost whined against his lips, having him double his efforts to make you finish. His hand moved away from your hip in search for your clit, not daring to admit he needed guidance. Your hand moved from between his legs atop of his for a short moment to press the pad of his fingers at the right spot before going back to squeezing at him. It took only a couple more thrusts, rubs and squeezes before you both finished, your walls tightening around his length as he spilled inside of you.
He slumped onto his back, pulling out and putting his underwear back on.
"You good?" You turned to fully face him, "hmhm, yeah tha' was way more fun than I thought." He gave you a soft smile as you wormed your underwear back on too. "S'nice when the lady touches me too." You took his words as an invite and rested your hand on his hip and squeezed. His body was just so perfect for squeezing in any and all places, you loved it. "I'll always happily touch you, just lemme know when you don't like something." He gave a grunt in agreement and suggested sleep for now, continuing the talk in the morning.
So sleep you did, even better now being all tired out.
Breakfast tasted better after that, the air was fresher and the residents were less annoying.
That was of course until the one they didn't want to run into saw them holding hands on the way to the pantry.
"I hope you like sloppy seconds." One voice commented from behind you. "Yeah, sloppy for sure. Horrible lay, that guy." The women giggled among themselves, staring you down. Where Daryl tried to ignore his ex's stupid remarks, you weren't going to leave without snapping back. "Sloppy? Maybe when the chick he fucks squeals like a dying hog! Fucked me so good I could barely walk last night." You sent them a smug look, the women in the background giggling softly as she colored beet red and crossed her arms with a huff, turning away from the two of you in shame. "Ya done makin' a scene now? We gotta grab food." You proudly nodded, a wide smile on your face on your way into the pantry to pick out dinner food.
Daryl might not have shown it on the outside, but he was damn proud of his lady. And hearing you defend him like that made him live you even more.
~~☆☆☆~~
A/N: loosely inspired by the Avril Lavigne song. Because I'll forever be a little emo kid by heart.
