pairing: you x daryl dixon (established relationship)
summary: you and Daryl finally reunite at Alexandria after being separated at the prison.
warnings: didn't proofread, can't think of anything else.
This is part of my rewrites collection
word count: 1.2k
When the governor tore down the prison, you were forced to run and leave everyone behind or die trying to round up everyone who was either already dead or already running.
You waited for Daryl, you waited for his bike, but the explosions from the tank drew too many of the undead to cross your one clear path to your meeting place, and you had no choice but to abandon the man you loved.
While Rick and the others were on the road, exposed, finding one another along the way, you weren't on the road for any longer than two days when you stumbled across Aaron; when you noticed his clean-shaven face and clean clothes, you knew he was staying somewhere good.
Alexandria gave you a fresh start with new faces, and you needed it, but no matter how busy Deanna made you with odd jobs around her community, you couldn't stop thinking about Daryl. You needed to know if he made it.
Daryl couldn't stop thinking about you, and he looked for you every opportunity he got. When a walker resembled you with similar clothing or hair, he had to make sure it wasn't you, just in case. His heart would jump into his throat and pound loudly in his ears until he knew it wasn't you, and his fear fell away the moment the walker dropped lifelessly to the floor.
When he couldn't finish searching the shipping containers at Terminus, Daryl convinced himself that you were gone. That you were still in prison, trapped, or suffered a worse fate out there on your own. After losing Beth, Daryl couldn't get his hopes up anymore; he needed to mourn.
You were out of a run with Deanna's sons, Aiden and Spencer, which should've been a day's job at most, but unfortunately, when the overrun warehouse plunged into darkness, the three of you were gone for five days. Ruthlessly and strategically fighting your way out with no guns or dropping a single supply; luckily, you were experienced and driven enough to make sure the three of you would make it out alive.
Arriving back in Alexandria in the middle of the night wasn't what you wanted, but another night of sleeping in the car with two brothers who had a serious snoring problem would've killed you off for good.
"We're done for today." Aiden smiled, wiping some blood off your forehead.
You smiled back, "I think we're done for a long while after that," you managed to laugh lightly before saying good night and going back to your home, dragging your feet, feeling sore and tired.
You climbed into bed, too tired to erase the four days' worth of blood, dirt, and grime built up on your body and face, and went to sleep; little did you know Daryl was three doors away, alive and under a roof not too different from your own.
When you first walked into Alexandrea and went through Deanna's gruelling interview process, you felt reluctant to share your story with her. Still, when you were promised that Aaron would do his best to track down your people, you couldn't stop yourself from telling her everything.
"Daryl is hard to figure out at first," you smiled as you made yourself comfortable on Deanna's couch, enjoying her lit fire, "he doesn't let people in."
"He let you in, all the way it seems," Deanna responded, her gaze intense.
You nodded your head, "Yeah, but it took him a long time to trust me, we've been together since the start... we're always together, this is the longest we've been apart."
"Is he a good man?"
"Without a doubt. Daryl and that group are my family, I wouldn't be here if it weren't for them."
When you were on that run with Aiden and Spencer, Aaron lured Daryl and his group back to Alexandria. Whilst they were rightfully wary after what they went through at the prison and terminus, when Aaron name-dropped you and gave them a picture of you looking alive and happy, they agreed to go with him to this new community.
Deanna put every one of them through the same process, shoving her camcorder in their presence, asking them question after question, but it was Daryl who was the most impatient and on edge; unable to keep still.
"Where is she?!" Daryl grumbled, "Am gettin' sick of waitin!"
"She's on a supply run with my two sons," Deanna replied calmly with a smile, "she'll be back soon."
"Where is she?!" Daryl repeated, pacing around the room.
"An old warehouse, a couple of miles out, they are clearing through it and are coming back," she sighed, feeling slightly anxious at the thought of her sons not returning, "if she isn't back by tomorrow night, I'll send for others to search for her.”
When your eyes opened the next morning, you forced yourself into your shower, scrubbing away the dirt caked on your face and neck before digging the dried blood from underneath your fingernails. When massaging your scalp under the warm running water, scrubbing in the shampoo you took from the warehouse, you could hear Daryl's voice, calling out your name.
At first, you thought you were still dreaming, trapped in a nightmare or experiencing another reality similar to what life was once like, but when you finished your shower, got dressed and could still hear his voice, you knew this wasn't a dream, and you knew you weren't hearing things.
"Daryl! Daryl, stop!" Rick's voice boomed.
Your eyes widened as you ran down the stairs, your hair still damp and your feet sockless.
Daryl tried every door in the community, trying to force his way through people's homes to find you, convinced that you were being hidden from him. Rick had to grab him and use all of his strength to pull him away from the last door he hadn't opened: yours.
Your hand brushed at the doorknob and you gripped it with tears welling up in your eyes. As you pulled the door open, Daryl looked up with hope and froze for a split second in disbelief that you were standing right in front of him, without a single scratch or bruise.
Rick let go of Daryl, his arm dropping and dangling by his side.
"Is-Is that really-" Rick started almost breathlessly.
"Daryl-"
He rushed towards you and lifted you up in his arms, his face nuzzling into your neck, inhaling the scent of your soap. Your heart thumped ferociously against his, and you wrapped your arms around Daryl tightly, afraid that if you let go, he'd vanish into thin air.
"I thought-" Daryl sobbed.
"I know, I thought too," you cried, your voice wobbly.
"You've been 'ere, the whole time?" he asked, his voice gruff, reluctantly pulling away.
The rest of the group piled around outside your house, watching with wide smiles and tears in their eyes, relieved that you made it.
"The whole time," you sniffled as Daryl wiped a rolling tear away.
Daryl shook his head, "If you didn't come back, I..." his croaky voice trailed off, and you shushed him.
"It's okay now," you cooed, "it's okay."
Daryl finally put you down but still kept his hand around yours, allowing the rest of the group to come and embrace you in tight hugs, and as you scanned the group, you noticed new faces you had yet to meet, but noticed the absent faces of those you were certain had safely left the prison unharmed.
It wasn’t a good book. Hell, you’d go so far as to say that it was pretty damn bad, but that didn’t matter. This shitty novel had given you a break. It was a way to escape this fucked up place that the world had become, and everyone was glad that Dale shared it.
Glenn had already read it. It had surprised you initially, since you hadn’t taken him for a reader. He seemed more like an action movie kind of guy, obsessed with fast cars as he was. Then again, the apocalypse left little options.
As he gave it to you, Dale insisted that he’d have packed better books if he had known the world was going to end. It made you laugh, and sparked a conversation between you and the elderly man. Sitting on top of the RV, keeping watch wasn’t your favorite task, no. You’d constantly worry about missing a walker approaching the farm, or worse, a horde. On top of that, you weren’t a great shot. The isolation of the whole thing left you wondering why Andrea liked it so much, but you guessed not everyone enjoyed doing laundry and cooking all day.
Now, you could understand it a little bit better. The sun was beating down on the RV, heat making it almost unbearable to stay out in the open. Luckily, it would get colder soon.
It wasn’t too bad sitting here in company. From what you could gather, Dale had an amazing taste in books. Came with 65 years of reading, probably. He seemed happy that you could match his impressive literary knowledge, allowing for a nice talk.
It really wasn’t so bad up here if you had company.
It made you think about what it would be like to keep watch with Daryl.
The redneck had occupied your thoughts for a while. Since his dedication in the hunt for Sophia, to be exact. He was incredible at tracking, and still, it didn’t amount to the end everyone had wished for Carol.
Of course, Carol was devastated. Pretty much everyone was. The search had been a reason to keep going, even though deep down, it was clear to you all that you had been chasing a shadow. Now that it was over, morale was at an all time low. Some doubted Rick’s leading abilities, and tension arose within the group.
It made sense that everone was affected. However, no one seemed to see the effect that this failure had on Daryl. Either that, or they simply didn’t want to. He made it easy for them to ignore him, avoiding the group in general. Kept himself holed up in his one man tent further away from the rest of the group. And that after he took a bullet, too.
You’d think he’d admit his vulnerability and accept help, but since the second he was allowed to get up after the wound was tended too, he hadn’t been back. Andrea had come to apologize, Lori had brought him food, even Carol had come by, but none of them had managed to get more than a few words out of the man.
While you understood that he was frustrated and angry at himself, you were determined to coax him out of his hardened shell.
How? Well, you had a reason now.
That was at least what you told yourself as you made your way to his tent.
Your dedication diminished with every step you took. Standing directly in front of it, you weren’t even sure if you should go inside anymore. Maybe you were overstepping. Maybe he would throw you out and feel even worse after you had talked to him.
About to turn around and forget about the whole thing, you flinched when you heard rustling inside of the tent and finally, its zipper being pulled down.
You were met with the sight of Daryl, resting on his cot inside the tent. He lowered his arm and raised a brow, seemingly surprised at the sight of you.
“What d’ya want? I can hear ya shufflin’ 'round, y’know. Didn’t shoot me, ain’t got nothin’ ta apologize for.”
You straightened, looking a little sheepish as you shook your head.
“I know. Look, I was gonna leave, but— I thought you could use a distraction. Must be boring being stuck here all day.”
He hummed. “S’pose.”
That wasn’t a direct rejection, so you pulled yourself together and kneeled down at the tent’s entrance. Threw him an experimental smile, not hesistant, but not confident either.
“Right. That’s why I wanted to give you this. There isn’t exactly much else to do in here.”
You held out your hand, offering him the book.
He eyed it, then glanced up at you. Seemed wary, as if he wasn’t sure what to make of the gesture. “A book?”
You nodded. “What, never seen one before?”
It was supposed to sound light-hearted, ease the tension between the two of you, but with your intimidated, wavering voice, it probably did a poor job. You cringed internally, cursing yourself for even trying to start a conversation with him. He probably felt bothered by you, peace disturbed and wished you would just leave already so he could—
Oh. Your thoughts went quiet when he reached out and took it, sitting up a little straighter on his dirty blanket. The surpressed wince didn’t go unnoticed by you, and you were about to ask him if he was okay, but he was faster.
“That Dale’s?”
A meek nod. “Yeah.” Unsure of what to add to this, you stayed quiet, eyes flickering up to his face.
Daryl huffed, flipping through the pages. Then looked at you. You were ready to be told off for intruding at last, but it was his turn to surprise you.
“What, no pictures?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d thought you had made out the hint of a smirk around his lips, but it was gone too quickly for you to be sure.
Your face fell, caught off guard. “You— you can’t read?” Shock must have been written all over your face judging by the roll of his eyes.
“Nah”, he scoffed, “I can read alrigh', girl. Just ain’t a fan.” He scratched his neck, eyes falling down to the book in his hands.
A faint blush spread on your cheeks. Of course he could, what were you thinking. This didn’t have to be so awkward but of course you’d go and call him an analphabet, for god’s sake…
You cleared your throat, “Oh. Sorry. I mean, I have only read half of it so far, but Glenn said it wasn’t half bad. Maybe better than being all alone with your thoughts? I’ll take it back to Dale, if you want to, I mean—"
He shook his head, interrupting your nervous babbling.
“Don’t gotta take it back”, he huffed. Curt and to the point, as always. His rough voice didn’t fail to make you feel a little silly, intimidated by the one man that had protected you for months now. And the others, of course. Not you especially.
“Sure. Okay, I’ll leave you to it.” Embarrassed, you began getting up when his head snapped up, following your movement.
Daryl frowned, brows pulled together tightly. “Wha', ya ain’t gonna read it to me?” He seemed a little offended if anything, making you stop in your tracks and falter.
“Huh? You want me to stay?” Now it was your turn to be confused. However, he ended that by patting down a spot in the tent next to him.
A shrug, “Ya said ya were only halfway through. Course I ain’t gonna take it from ya now. Ya could be dead tomorrow, fer all I know. Might as well finish that damn story.” His voice didn’t leave much space for discussion.
You were strangely touched. He payed attention to every word you were saying, apparently. Not only did he refrain from throwing you out, he wanted you further inside the tent.
Your braced yourself, smiling at him. “Oh, uh, sure. I’ll read to you.”
As you crawled inside the tent, he reached for the zipper to close the opening. You made yourself as comfortable as was possible in the small room, leaving space between you and him. Didn’t want to overstay your welcome or make him feel uncomfortable. After all, it was rare for Daryl to allow others near him at all, always the closed off hunter. Actually, you hadn't heard him talk this much in weeks.
You counted yourself lucky. Must have caught him at a good time, then.
“Okay, I’ll start with chapter one.”
“Nah, just go on from where ya left off.”
“Are you sure? You won’t understand the story if—"
“Don’t care.”
“Well, if you insist.”
And so you began reading, stealing the occasional glance at him, spread out on his blanket, arms under his head. He was staring at the tents ceiling, blue eyes trained on the worn fabric. His focus however was on you and you only. He listened to your gentle voice, losing himelf solely in the sound instead of the story. Fuck, he could care less for the story.
No, he only cared about the way the words formed in your throat, flowing out of your lips. The soft breathing, how it hitched when you reached an exciting passage. The small noise of frustration when you stumbled over a sentence and had to begin anew…
If only you knew how much he liked your presence.
Honestly, if someone had asked him anything about the content of the novel by the point you said goodnight and left his tent to return to yours, he would have been at a loss. Didn’t remember a thing about the characters, but all about the way you had invented distinctly unique voices for each of them.
That book may have not been the best, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t grateful for every single chapter.
Actually obsessed with the thought of ex-boyfriend!Daryl carrying around a picture of you from before. Especially if it's just one that was definitely taken with a shitty disposable camera on some random day while you were doing some mundane task. He'd take it out at night when no one was watching and just stare at it. There would he a little worn spot near your face from where he rubbed his thumb over it while he tried to remember what it felt like to be loved. Not in the fucked off way Merle did or the way the other survivors saw usefulness in his abilities but for real. And if he cried a little because he missed you well before the world ended and even more since? Well, that's his business
I am very high on pain meds, so idk if this even makes sense, but I'm thinking about Carol catching Daryl staring at you for like the millionth time and asking him why he doesn't just do something (like, literally anything), and he lowkey panics just thinking about it. I feel like that conversation is just:
Daryl: *staring longingly at (Y/N) and somehow looking a little threatening*
Carol: Why don't you go sit next to her? Ya know, so she doesn't think you're gonna kill her
Daryl: Hell no
Carol: Why not?
Daryl: She’ll talk to me
Carol *amused*: And that's a problem because?
Daryl *visibly stressed*: She’ll want me to talk back
I feel like when Daryl gets jealous it would be in a pathetic way. In public, he’d loom behind you like the grim reaper himself until whoever was hitting on you left. At home, he’s on his knees, arms around your hips, rubbing his cheek against your stomach saying something like, “Ya aren’t gonna leave me, are ya? You’re still my girl?”
I have so many thoughts about ex-boyfriend!Daryl that it's not funny. Especially S1 Daryl. Like he's such a douchebag, but he cares so much. Enjoy!
Pairing: Ex-boyfirend!Daryl Dixon x Reader
Ex-boyfriend!Daryl who immediately thinks of you when the world goes to shit. He knows there's no way to get to you, and even if there was, you probably wouldn't go with him, so he never tries.
Ex-boyfriend!Daryl who feels a crushing sense of guilt for that.
Ex-boyfriend!Daryl who finds himself wondering if you survived. Wondering if he should be out looking for you.
Ex-boyfriend!Daryl who freezes up when Rick comes back to camp with you walking cautiously behind him.
Ex-boyfriend!Daryl who dumps his crossbow on the ground and starts striding up to you like the fucking terminator, before he can even really figure out how he feels, making everyone nervous.
Ex-boyfirend!Daryl who doesn't give a fuck that he's your ex because you're alive. Tired, scared, and a little worse for wear, but alive.
Ex-boyfriend!Daryl who takes your face in his hands and just looks at you. Doesn't kiss you because he doesn't think he deserves to, but looks at you like he used to. Like you're the lady of the lake. Like you hung the goddamn moon.
Ex-boyfriend!Daryl who feels like he can take a breath for the first time since he realized he had to leave you behind.
Ex-boyfriend!Daryl who takes a shaking breath and tries to say something to you, maybe an apology, maybe something else, but can't do it. The words just stick in his throat.
Ex-boyfriend!Daryl who damn near takes Rick's hand off when he tries to pull you away, thinking Daryl might hurt you.
Ex-boyfriend!Daryl who feels such a sense of relief when you lean into him and tell him you missed him.
Ex-boyfriend!Daryl who's shoving down tears by sheer force of will while you say the difficult things for him. You wondered every day if he was alive. Wondered if you should look for him. That you still love him.
Ex-boyfriend!Daryl who can't believe he's been handed a second chance with you in this new, fucked up version of the world.
Ex-boyfriend!Daryl who doesn't know how to apologize for what happened before, and instead tries to atone by making sure you always eat before he does, sleep in the safest place, and never get so far away from him that he couldn't protect you.
Ex-boyfriend!Daryl who's suddenly not your ex-boyfriend anymore.
"Where ya think yer goin'?" Daryl asked, looking at you pulling your boots on.
"To check in on Maggie," you explained.
"Mmm," he hummed nodding. He nestled the edge of his thumbnail between his teeth and bit at it aimlessly. "So, ya enjoy playin' with a man's heart?"
You looked up at him and let out a confused laugh. "What?"
He paced over to you and chewed on his bottom lip for a moment as his eyes flickered over your face. There was a slight crinkle at the corner of his blue eyes, just enough for you to know that he was teasing you. He said in a low voice, "Ya dun started somethin' this mornin' ya still ain't finished..." He reached out and ran his rough fingers down the bare skin of your upper arm and goosebumps rose on your skin.
You bit your bottom lip as you looked up at him and then they curved into a smile. "You poor man," you said with a light laugh. "Will you perish if you have to wait a few more hours?"
"I might," he drawled. "This is some cruel and unusual treatment..."
You finished lacing your boots and stood up, moving in close to him, smiling up at his bright eyes. You reached up and straightened his shirt collar. "You'll survive. You're tough," you said, your eyes sparkling.
"I dunno. Ya might need to make it up to me."
"Oh, is that so?" You grinned, smoothing your hand briefly down his chest. "Well, I'm sure you'll show me how. I'll be in your very capable hands." You gave him one more wide smile that sent an electric chill up his back and then headed off.
Both of you were left in strenuous anticipation of the day being done...
Prompt: "Ya enjoy playin' with a man's heart?"
A/N: *melts into a puddle*
bastard sounds great in an irish accent. if an irish person calls you a 'daft bastard' it just feels right
the welsh have the monopoly on things ending in hell. fuckin hell and bloody hell hit different in a welsh accent. its like music to my ears
the scots have piss and shite for sure. "its pishin it doon out there" "this is a load of shite" absolute poetry
if i may speak for the english i think we do penis related words very well. dickhead, knobhead, twat, etc.
and for all the shit we give them, you gotta admit that no one can deliver a 'goddamn' quite like an american. theres a certain weight to it that you just cant achieve in other accents. when an american says goddamn you know shit just got real
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