Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of gore, fighting, nothing too serious for this chapter Iâm 99% sure)
(I just wanna say thank you all so much for all the support, I hope you enjoy the first chapter of the series, I really liked this one! Iâm aware I skipped some stuff, I was really tired writing this so I apologize if its not as good, this is my first written series)
When the world went to shit, you were in your apartment sleeping; yeah, you were asleep while the apocalypse was starting. How ironic, right? You woke up to the sounds of your neighbor screaming, only for you to run out and see his wife, dead but alive, eating him alive in the hallway of your apartment complex. What the fuck kind of nightmare were you in? Oh wait- you werenât dreaming, this was real, and shit was just getting started.
Atlanta, Georgia. The hot air, the busy people, you didnât hate it, nor did you love it; you grew up on the nice side of the city, at least. Decent people, you had a decent education, a few friends who didn't bother calling you back most of the time but that's alright. You had Daryl anyway. Who was Daryl? Your friend, well, that's what you thought of him to be anyway; the fucker wouldnât even speak to you most of the time, but you knew the two of you were close without having to talk all the time; your actions proved enough throughout the years.
How did you meet Daryl? A pretty shitty memory, but him and his brother, Merle, beat the crap out of some boys who were bothering you after school; he didnât go to your school, he was a little older, in fact, and he lived in the shittier side of the city. Simple as that, right? Wrong. Daryl Dixon was the most complicated, stubborn, and annoying person youâve ever met. Heâd take you with him on his hunting trips, but if you even breathed wrong, heâd leave your ass in the middle of nowhere. You had no idea why you were friends with this guy, but you couldnât stay away from him.
That's why youâre out now, walking around the city you once called home; it looked like hell now, filled with the dead, blood, and guts, packed cars just left out in the open. You felt alone without him, which is why you were looking for him and praying for his safety in this world that it had become within mere hours.
You managed to make it out of the street and into the woods, trudging along the dirt's imaginary path, letting it take you wherever it felt like it. You walked up a hill, peering through the trees as you heard some people talking. Your eyes met a group of people near a quarry. Stepping out from behind the trees, you decided you would confront the group, making sure to slip your crossbow over your shoulder before approaching their camp.
âUh..Hello?â you called out as their heads snapped in your direction. Your hand raised to shield your eyes from the sun, you looked at them and stopped in your tracks. âI donât mean no harm; Iâm just looking for someoneâwondering if youâve seen a..â you paused. Looking around, you saw a few kids, men and women, doing the laundry, talking.
âHeâs a tall guy with a real pissy attitude and has a crossbow, like this one,â you continued as you gestured to the crossbow on your back. However, by the looks they were giving you, they had no clue who you were talking about.
After conversing with a few group members, youâd convinced them to let you stay and set up a tent near the others. Once you settled, you decided to rest for a while, sighing softly and sitting on your sleeping bag as you looked down at your crossbow, fiddling with the string before you laid down and decided to get some rest.
A few weeks passed as you got to know some more of the people in the group: Carol, Ed, and their daughter, Sophia; Lori and her husband, who had recently found his way to the camp with the help of Glenn; their son, Carl; and the rest of the group.
You enjoyed Glennâs company and his jokes. He always shared his candy bars with you after dinner, which you appreciated. Carol was a sweet older woman who gave you some new clothes and taught you how to do the laundry in the water since there were no washing machines. Her daughter Sophia was the sweetest, always playing with your hair or following you around.
The same with Carl. When you weren't so busy, the three of you would play tag or hide-and-seek around the camp. Youâd also help them with their school work so Lori and Carol didn't have to stop what they were doing.
You were folding your clothes in the RV once you finished with everyone else's before you heard Carl yelling for his mother, your head perking up as he sounded frightened. You grabbed your crossbow and rushed out of the RV, following behind Rick, Shane, Lori, Dale, and a few others before Carl came running and whining into his mother's arms. You let out a breath of relief as you saw that he was okay before bringing Lori and Carl back to the RV to calm down as the men dealt with the Geek situation.
Lori gave him some water and sat next to him as she rubbed his back, waiting for him to calm down. After making sure both of them were okay, you went back to folding your clothes. After a while, you heard Rick, Shane, and the rest coming back. You picked up your clothes and stepped out of the RV with a sigh, about to ask if they were alright before you heard a familiar voice.
âMerle! Get yaâ ugly ass out here! Got us some squirrel!â a man shouted, his voice all too familiar. Your eyes darted to the man as he set his stuff near the campfire. âLet's stew âem up,â he continued before turning around and walking to the RV, immediately noticing you as he stopped.
You felt the air leave your chest as you dropped your clothes on the plush grass beneath your feet, staring at the man while your eyes widened. Were you dreaming, or was he actually standing right in front of you?
âDaryl...?â you breathed out, and before you knew it, you pulled your crossbow off your shoulder and dropped it to the ground before rushing over to him and wrapping your arms around him. You let out a small breathy laugh as you hugged him tightly, taking in his familiar scent and warmth as you held him.
Daryl let out a small grunt as your body collided with his, his hands grasping your waist as he held you loosely. âY/N?? The hellâre ya doinâ here..?â he spoke before letting go of you and stepping back to look at you, his hard expression never leaving your happy one. However, his eyes held a slight softness at the fact you were safe.
âI found this place while I was out looking for you- Daryl, oh my god, Iâm so glad youâre okay, you asshole, you had me worried!â you smacked his chest, which he immediately responded with a grunt.
âDamnit, yaâ know Iâm fine. I can take care of myself..â he grumbled before giving you one last glance and looking away with a scoff. âWhereâs Merle? Tell âem to get his stupid ass out âere,â he muttered as he looked around.
âMerle?..whatâre you talkinâ about, Daryl? He hasn't been here..â you asked, confused as you looked up at him. âI figured heâd be with you,â you continued.
Daryl looked at you quietly as you mentioned his brother wasn't here. Shane came up behind the two of you as he cleared his throat. âDaryl, there's something I gotta talk to you about,â he spoke as he rubbed his chin. âThere was a problem in Altana.â He glanced at you before his eyes landed on Daryl.
Daryl kept quiet a moment longer as he looked around as everyone started staring at him, he was shifted on his feet. âIs he dead?â he asked, looking over at Shane, his eyebrows furrowing. Your hand came up to rest on his arm as you looked at Shane, worried.
Shane looked at him as he let out a small breath. âWeâre not sure..â he muttered as he bit his lip. Daryl let out a small scoff as he grew irritated, quickly responding after Shane had finished.
âHe either is or he ain't!â Daryl shrugged your hand away and took a few steps around Shane as he looked at him, his eyes narrowing. Rick stepped in as he spoke up. âThere's no easy way to say this, so Iâll just say it.â he walked up to Daryl as he looked at him.
âWhoâre you?â Daryl scoffed as he turned to look at Rick, anger starting to show on his face as he stared at Rick, waiting for him to continue. Rick looked at Daryl, seeing the frustration on his face. âRick Grimes,â he admitted.
âRick Grimes, you got somethinâ you wanna tell me?â Daryl stepped closer to him. Rick spoke up before Daryl could continue. âYour brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof and hooked him to a piece of metal. Heâs still there,â he confessed.
Daryl turned away and let out a small breath as he rubbed his nose. âHolâ on, lemâme process this..â he turned back to face him before continuing. âYou handcuffed my brother to a roof, and you left him there!?â he shouted, stepping closer to Rick once more.
Rick kept quiet for a few moments before responding. âYeah..â he muttered, looking away, his expression complex.
Your eyes widened at what you heard; they handcuffed Merle down with Geeks walking around?! You saw Daryl's face as his lips turned into an angry frown before he threw the squirrels off his back at Rick and darted at him, only to get tackled by Shane.
âDaryl!â you gasped as you stepped closer to them, rushing over to him and quickly helping him up; he pulled away and took out his knife before slashing it at Rick. Shane came up behind Daryl and put him in a chokehold. âYouâd best let me go!â Daryl grunted as he breathed heavily into Shaneâs arms. âChoke holdinâs Illegal!â
The three of them had a small discussion before Shane let go of Daryl. Once they had finished the discussion, Daryl almost choked up but held it back. Lori had practically told Rick that he was gonna show Daryl where they had handcuffed Merle, and Rick reluctantly agreed with his wife.
You grasped Darylâs arms as they finished talking, looking up at him worried. âDaryl, are you okay?â you asked as he looked down at you annoyed and pent up. âCome on, just relax, okay? Rest for a bit before you go.â You ignored his scowl before picking up your clothes and your crossbow and pulling him along to your tent, sitting him inside as you put your stuff down.
Daryl sat quietly on your sleeping bag as he eyed the crossbow you had, frowning at the sight, though he calmed down. âYou still have that thing?..â he asked with a mutter before picking it up and messing with it. You looked at him quietly before smiling. âOf course I do, Daryl. It's the only thing I thought I had left of you..â you sighed as you sat beside him.
Daryl looked over at you as he felt his ears turn red, quickly looking back at your crossbow with a slight grumble of something incoherent. The two of you sat in silence for a while, you lying back on your sleeping bag as he looked down at you. âI went lookinâ for you, ya know?â he muttered.
You looked up at him as your eyes widened, your face reddened as you smiled. âReally..? I couldn't find you anywhere, Daryl. I guess I still suck at the whole tracking thing..â you murmured with a small embarrassed laugh.
He let out a small grunt as he smiled slightly. âYeah, hell, I made it to yer apartment, anâ it was trashed..thought somethinâ happened to yaâ. Me nâ Merle looked everywhere for ya, Sunshine.â he admitted before looking away. You stared at him quietly, blushing even more as you huffed and looked up at the tentâs ceiling, you loved that nickname.
âI left as fast as I could..poor Mr. Shepherd was being eaten in the frickin hallway by his wife..I guess that's what he gets for having an affair..â you chuckled as you shook your head. Daryl snorted as he heard about your neighbor. Looking at you once more, biting his lip as if he struggled to say something. Finally, he let out a sigh and spoke. âMâ glad youâre okay..â he spoke softly, looking at you with a soft look heâd given you once or twice.
You could feel your heart racing in your chest. You opened your mouth to speak before you heard Rick calling for him. You both looked at each other for another moment before he got up and left your tent. You followed shortly after, grabbing your crossbow on the way out as you caught up to them.
âWait! Iâm coming with you guys!â you said as you pulled the strap over your head. Daryl looked back at you and let out a huff. âThe hell you are, you ain't goinâ nowhere, Sunshine.â Darylâs eyes narrowed at you as he spoke sternly.
âDaryl, you can't be serious-â You looked at him, shocked as you got cut off. âI am serious, yer stayinâ here. Where it's safe.â he pointed at the camp as he looked at you. You looked at him as you began to grow annoyed.
âThe hell are you talkinâ about? I just got you back! And you're saying Iâm supposed to stay here? What if you donât come back? What am I supposed to do then?!â you shouted at him as you flailed your hands with a gesture of your own words.
âYou donât do nothin! You stay here, anâ yaâ wait for me to come back!â Daryl growled as he leaned closer. âI ainât lettinâ ya get yerself killed out there, Y/N!â he continued before he turned around and walked away frustrated.
You watched him as he walked off, Rick and Glenn following behind him with T-Dog. Your heart beat heavily as you let out a frustrated scowl before retreating to your tent. This always happened with Daryl. You get along one minute, then you say something stupid, and he snaps at you and leaves you all angry. You hated it, but you knew he was right. You didn't have much experience out in this world like he did.
You lay in your tent as you stared at the ceiling, the frustration slowly leaving you as you grew tired. You missed him, youâd found him, and he was already gone again, but the smell of him still lingered in your tent as it slowly drifted you to sleep.
Thank you for reading the first chapter of my new series, Silent Bonds! I appreciate the love you all have given me, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'm not used to writing anything longer than 1-2k, but I tried my best, Iâll try and make them longer as I go on! Thank you for all your love and support. Iâm so happy to be making this for you guys!
>Chapter Two
Tag list: @dixons-sunshine @missriddle03 (lmk if u wanna be added to the tag list đŤśđť)
Summary: While out riding on your own bike with Daryl, something happens that leads to an accident. Thankfully, the archer was there to help you outâand in turn, make your feelings for him grow even stronger.
Genre: Hurt/comfort.
Warnings: Swearing, injuries such as bruises and a broken foot, walkers.
Word count: 1k.
A/N: Requested by @jokersscarrd. Iâm sorry this is rather poorly written. I havenât been feeling the best these last couple of days, but I really wanted to get some requests done. I hope this is still somewhat okay.
Darylâs heart galloped in his chest in fear as he pulled up on the part of the road where it curved. One minute, you had been in his sight as you rode your motorcycle in front of him. The next, he had lost sight of you and he had no idea what had happened. There were no turns, nowhere you could disappear to, so what happened? Where did you go?
The archer soon got his answer as he brought his bike to a screeching halt. In front of him, there were marks on the road from where your bike had clearly swerved, and his best guess was that you had swerved off into the woods. Daryl quickly dismounted from his bike and grabbed his crossbow, before making his way into the trees, following the clear as day tracks of your motorcycle.
He was right. You had swerved into the woods. For what reason, though, he did not know yet.
Daryl did not have to search for too long. After about a minute of walking, he could hear the sound of a walkerâs groans. However, that was not what grabbed his attention. It was the fact that he could hear someone in distress trying to fight it off, and it sounded an awful lot like you. You were in distress.
The huntsman quickly rushed towards the sound of your voice. Pushing through a bush, he could see your bike broken and practically in pieces, but he did not linger on that for too long. He was far more concerned about you, about saving you from the geek that you were trying to fight off, but from the looks of it, you werenât able to.
Raising his crossbow, Daryl aimed it at the thingâs head and pulled the trigger. It pierced its skull with a sickening squelch, and it dropped dead, thankfully missing you and falling down next to you instead. Black blood oozed from the walkerâs head and down onto the ground, awfully close to where your hand was. You yanked it back and scooted away, whimpering in pain at the exertion on your foot.
Daryl was next to you in a heartbeat. He slung his crossbow over his shoulder and gripped you by your shoulders, searching you for any injuries or bites. There were quite a few injuries that he could see with a once-over, namely scrapes and bruises that were already forming, but no bite marks to speak of, which was good news.
âShit, Y/N. Are you alright?â he asked gruffly, his cerulean eyes boring into your own eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed together in concern as he looked at you. âThe hell happened? You were in frontâa me and then I couldnât see ya no more.â
âI lost control of the bike,â you began in a soft whisper. âI was going around the curve and suddenly, I couldnât control where I was going anymore. I was heading straight into the woods and I couldnât stop. The only thing that finally stopped me was that tree.â You motioned over to the tree that stood a few feet away from you and Daryl. âI went flying, though. Landed on my foot in a weird way and now it hurts. Really badly.â
Darylâs heart sank as you explained what had happened. He silently cursed himself for asking you to go for a ride with him. The bike you had been working on since you had found it a couple of weeks ago had finally been fixed up, and you had been excited to finally test it out. Thatâs one of the reasons why he had invited you out for a ride in the first place, and now he was highly regretting that decision. He should not have brought you out that day.
With as gentle of a touch as he could, he gingerly began inspecting your foot. However, when you jerked away when he only lightly gripped it, he got the answer he had been looking for. It was badly injured.
âBest guess sâthat sâbroken. Sprained, if youâre lucky,â he told you with a grimace.
You laughed lightly, although Daryl could clearly tell it was fake. âI have a feeling luck isnât really on my side right now,â you replied, wincing when you tried to move your foot again. âFuck, it really hurts.â The sound of walkers groaning in the distance caught your attention, and for the sake of both yourâs and Darylâs safety, you forced yourself to suck up the pain. âWe need to go. Can you help me up?â
Daryl sighed and got up before slowly helping you up to stand on one leg. However, he was not about to let you hop on one foot back to his motorcycle, with or without his assistance. Instead, he picked you up bridal style and began making his way back to his bike.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and allowed him to carry you without protest, knowing that you would just slow him down if you insisted on being able to walk. Besides, it was nice to be carried by him. Your heart was pounding in your chest at the close proximity between you and the archer. This was the closest you had ever been to him physically, and you were savouring the moment.
âWhat are we gonna do about my bike?â you asked after a few more moments of silence.
Daryl hummed. âIâll come get it for ya, but we gotta get you back to Hershel first. Have him look at your foot.â
Darylâs heart sped up as you leaned your head against his shoulder. Unbeknownst to you, he felt the exact same way you were in that moment. He was savouring having you so close to him, loving the way your body felt against his own. He wished he could always feel that from you.
Little did he know that you wanted the exact same thing, too. Although luck hadnât been on your side regarding the accident, it was definitely on your side now. Daryl had helped you, had probably saved you. And now, as you were being held tightly in his embrace, trying to ignore the pain in your body in favour of admiring the archer, you felt like the unluckiest lucky person alive.
I'm just going to give you a few pointers, I love your work. I entirely believe whatever you write I will love but can we please include these loosely. Go mad, change it about but something along these lines...
They have always looked out for each other from day one, she always checked in on him and made sure that he was okay and he did the same for her, they always had each other's back ever since the quarry. I donât want it to be Daryl not being able to tell her that she loves him and the same for her for him if that makes sense. They both know that they love each other dearly and are fully aware of this but neither one of them likes the intimate stuff, the sex, the making out etc. Theyâve shared sleeping arrangements before, cuddled, held hands a couple of times but they have never approached the subject as they were both scared about the thought of it or didn't feel the need to. But since arriving at Alexandria thereâs been people flirting with one or the other, or making comments, or odd looks etc and it has been getting under their grill and realised that it really bothered them that they never actually made anything official either marriage or whatever but they canât communicate about it because theyâre both as awkward and as broken as each other and have this self belief that everything they touch just ends up in destruction. They end up on angsty terms and shut off from each other then something happens to either the OC or Daryl to the point of either almost losing them, something sparks between them and they decide that actually they do need to make it âofficialâ and shout it to the world.Â
I hope that helps but either way let your creativeness flow my dear, do whatever you would like with it.
I know Iâm going to love it <3
Fluffy-Dixon Commission
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Typical TWD violence & gore; allusions to smut
You loved Daryl. Daryl loved you. A sentiment that was never spoken but communicated nonetheless. You didnât need words with him. It was almost as if you never did. The ability to read one another without speaking came naturally from even as far back as the quarry. Those days didnât really seem like that long ago anymore, time bending and bleeding together as you struggled to just survive.Â
The quarry, the Greene farm, the prisonâa natural progression of something unnamed. It didnât need a title. The two of you just fit. Stolen glances, smiles, and even holding hands while on watch. It just felt right. Given that the touches and gestures were reciprocated every single time without the slightest protest told you that it felt the same to Daryl.Â
Eventually, you started sleeping in the same cell. There was nothing beyond holding one another, coaxing the stress from your bodies with simple touches that no amount of sex could ever achieve. No one questioned it, though no one really questioned any form of happiness anymore. It was too fleeting.Â
âToday sucked.â You would whisper, nuzzling your cheek against the hollow of his throat.Â
âSâover now.â Heâd reply, fingertips dancing down your spine.Â
It was an unplanned, nameless perfection.Â
Carol had jokingly referred to you as an old married couple once, and while you didnât get angry, it did raise several questions. You began to ponder things that had, until that moment, felt ordinary. You had never compared your relationship with Daryl to that of Glenn and Maggie or Rick and Lori.Â
Such an innocent statement had been the birthplace of so many doubts. Should it be something that was made official? Should you talk to him about it? And then the prison fell, your combined grief straining whatever it was the two of you had. Though once you had been reunited with your family, things seemed to return to normal.Â
Except the lingering thought that you should be doing more.Â
âDonât know how I feel âbout this place.â Daryl was perched on the chair just adjacent to the door of the house you, he, and Carol had been assigned, his legs outstretched for his crossed ankles to rest atop the railing. Whittling away at bolts, he didnât bother to look up when a long time resident called out a hello.Â
âItâs not so bad.â You smiled at your notebook and the run list you were creating. The archer grunted. He didnât trust it. âItâs hard to get used to, I know, but Rick saysââ
âHey, Y/N.âÂ
Your gaze slid over to the steps, the one you had come to know as Spencer smiling at you from the walkway. âOh, uhâhey.â The man had been watching you from the moment your group had arrived, his hungry gaze following you with a piercing intensity that made you a little more than uncomfortable.Â
âSo, the party is tonight.â He lifted a foot to the first step and you saw Darylâs knife hand still from the corner of your eye. âI was hoping you would accompany me.â Your eyes blinked wide, dancing between the two men.Â
âIâwell I wasnât planning on going.â You laid the pen and paper aside, placing your hands on your thighs.Â
âOh, come on, pretty lady. Itâll be fun.âÂ
Your eyes flitted over to watch Darylâs hand tighten around the hilt of his knife. Was he just being protective? Was it something more? The questions you tried so valiantly to ignore rose again to the forefront of your mind.Â
âMâa go talk to Rick.â The archer spouted suddenly, dropping his legs and standing. He was down the steps and on the walkway before you could manage to say a word.Â
Spencer watched him leave, a visible tension draining from his form. Once Daryl was out of sight, Deannaâs son turned back to you with a smile that made your stomach turn. âSo, about that party?â
You glanced over his shoulder to Rickâs front door. What would it hurt? Daryl wasnât attending and making friends couldnât be such a bad thing. If Spencer wanted more, you would simply set him straight.Â
âYeah, I guess so, but as friends, okay?â
The look he gave you filled you with instant regret.Â
âFriends. Sure.âÂ
Oh boy.Â
The gathering itself was a success, introducing you to some of the communityâs residents while you gained a bit more knowledge about the history of Alexandria. It was Spencerâs relentless advances that had ultimately driven you to abandon the party early. You had acquiesced to one dance, yet that had been enough to send the wrong signals.Â
âDaryl? Are you home?â You called, awkwardly removing the high heels from your aching feet. Of course they would give you the most uncomfortable shoes known to man. Youâd definitely be sticking with your boots from that point forward, fancy dress or not. âDaryl?â Tired and more than socially drained, you wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with your archer and let your stress melt away into the mattress while secure in the safety of his arms.Â
It wasnât meant to be.Â
Daryl wasnât there. It was unlikely he had left the walls. Unlikely but not impossible. So, you shuffled off to change out of the outfit youâd be given and into your familiar attire. By the time he strolled into the house, you had fallen asleep on the couch.Â
âHey.â You croaked, wiping the sleep from your eyes. Daryl glanced your way and offered a jerk of his chin in greeting. âWhereâd you go?â
âSâit matter?â He huffed. It almost sounded bitter.Â
âI guess not.â You warily watched him move around, the air growing thick with tension. âJust worried, thatâs all.â He laughed ruefully, a sure sign that he was ill at ease. âDaryl, are you okay?â
âDropped by the party earlier.â He cleared his throat. âDidnât see no reason to stick around.â
Uh oh.Â
âOh.â Why did you feel guilty? Nothing had happened. âYou hungry?â You asked, realizing the ridiculousness of the question when there were other obvious pressing matters that needed to be discussed.Â
Daryl stopped stripping off his gear to spare you a sidelong glance. âNah.â That wasnât what he wanted to say, that much was clear, but he refrained. You felt your heart shift and twist uncomfortably.Â
âDaryl, I think we shouldââ
âMâgoinâ to bed.â And then he was gone, loud steps echoing from the basement stairs until they were muted thuds that were followed up by the loud slam of his door. You werenât welcome in the room that night.Â
Wiping angrily at the sudden tears on your cheeks, you cast your gaze to the stairs leading up to the bedrooms, suddenly exhausted. In fact, the thought of trudging up to the extra bed was a feat you werenât sure you could accomplish. Lowering onto the couch, you sniffled and closed your damp eyes.Â
Sleep wouldnât find you that night.Â
âWe shouldââ The words were cut off by a mighty yawn, drawing Darylâs unwelcome attention. His expression alone spoke volumes.Â
âSâthe matter with you?â
As if he had to ask. He knew you better than anyone, like the back of his hand. You hadnât rested, fitfully tossing and turning on the couch the previous night, missing the warmth of his arms and the sounds of his breathing.Â
Knowing you couldnât start a discussion that might lead to foolish mistakes, you heaved a sigh. âIâm fine.â Keeping your eyes downcast, you pushed open the passenger door and climbed out, heading toward the main entrance of the mall. A succession of slamming car doors followed.Â
âYâainât fine.â Daryl fell into step with you, pulling his crossbow from his back. His eyes, squinting against the sun, remained glued forward.Â
Neither are you, you wanted to say. Still, you pressed onward. âLetâs just get this done and go home.â You chose instead, picking up the pace to leave him behind. Arguing with him wasnât new by any means, but thisâtension, it was new. It was different. It felt much like the stress that passed between the two of you after the prison. The questions, the doubts.Â
âY/N!â
You shook your head when you heard him call. You couldnât deal with that confrontation at that moment. There were supplies to find, there were walkers to avoid andâ
You didnât even realize how close the teeth had come to your shoulder until you felt the sting of Darylâs bolt slide across the back of your neck to pierce the young womanâs skull. Hand slapping over the cut the projectile had left behind, you spun to watch the body topple sideways, your eyes wide.Â
âThe hell were you doinâ?!âÂ
Your brain had yet to catch up, your lips moving with mere silence the only result. When Daryl reached you, his weapon clattered to the ground, leaving the others to watch your backs.
âIââ
âYa just stood there! Why didnâtâgoddamnit, Y/N!âÂ
Your hand jerked away from your neck as you were yanked against his chest, face squished until you managed to maneuver your head just enough to breathe.Â
âIâm sorryâIââ
Daryl sniffed above you, roughly letting you go and stepping away. He had turned away from everyone, arm moving to appear as if he might have been wiping at his eyes. âSâget this done.â He snapped, jerking his arm in a vague motion to beckon you. âYouâre stayinâ with me, yâhear?âÂ
You nodded, though he couldnât see, and picked up his bow for him. After he had taken it, he stomped toward the entrance, barking at you to keep up.Â
How could you have been so careless? Youâd allowed your thoughts and worries to cloud your judgment, blind you to danger. If Daryl hadnât been there, youâd have been dead. Now things were worse between the two of you. He stalked ahead, his shoulders tense and frame trembling. Did you dare try and smooth things over?
âGot somethinâ here.â He suddenly spouted, rocking back and forth with the toe of his boot pressing into a creaking floorboard. He glanced at you, eyes narrowed in a silent request to watch his back. You jerked your chin in a nod. Crossbow placed next to him on the floor, he crouched and used his knife to pry up the board and reveal a bag beneath it. âBingo.â
âWhatâs in it?â You inquired, looking to him for a reply and then back to the door.Â
âMeds. Some granola bars and Spam.â He shoved the sack into his satchel.Â
âTrip was worth it then.â You were smiling when you turned to him, your mouth turning down when you were assaulted by the expression he donned. He was stricken.Â
âWorth it.â He looked down as he stood, licking his bottom lip before chewing it in earnest. âNah, Y/N. It werenât worth it.â Squinting, he shook his head and brushed by you. âWeâre done here.â
Sighing heavily, you rubbed the towel over your damp hair. The dayâs grime had been washed away, swirling down the drain to keep your tears company. Daryl hadnât spoken a word to you the rest of the run, not on the drive back, and he had disappeared the moment the car had been parked.Â
Pulling your sleep shorts up to rest on your hips, you reached for your camisole when there was a soft knock on your door. You were once again in the upstairs room, giving Daryl his space while suffocating in your own.Â
âYeah?â You pulled the garment over your head and stepped out of the bathroom, narrowing your eyes at the entryway.Â
âSâuhââ Daryl cleared his throat, the sound muted by the wooden barrier between you. âSâme.â
Your heart fluttered before it sank. Another argument wasnât something you were confident you could handle, but you couldnât just turn him away. Padding across the cold floor on your bare feet, you turned the knob and opened the door enough to lean against it. âHey.â
âHey.â He was already rubbing the back of his neck and shifting from foot to booted foot. He was anxious. âCan we, uhâcan we talk?â He requested without so much as a glance at you.
Not tonight. Iâm too tired. âOf course.â You ignored every possible excuse to avoid the conversation. He merely grunted and squeezed by you with care not to touch.Â
And that hurt.Â
âWhatâs up?â You asked with feigned nonchalance, sitting down on your bed. Daryl paid extra attention to the furniture and the things you had taken with you from the basement room.Â
ââBout todayââ
And there it was. âI said I was sorry, Daryl. I was distracted.â You felt your eyes burn, wishing you could say so much more. Tell him you missed him, that you loved him. âIt wonât happen again.â
âYeah, I know.â His tone was solemn and it dawned on you that he didnât seem angry at all. He turned toward you, taking a moment to chew on the side of his thumb. You hated when he did that. You hated anything that caused him discomfort, especially the things he did to himself. âSâmy fault, ainât it?â
You blinked, saucer-sized eyes following his hand as he lowered it. âYour fault?âÂ
âJustââ You tracked him as he began to pace. âJust saw ya with that prick at the party anâ Iââ He stopped, fists clenching before he shook them out and continued wearing a trench into the floor. âI thoughtâwerenât weânah. I shouldnâa come up here.âÂ
The confusion muddling your brain had yet to wear off before you were on your feet and stepping into his path to effectively block the door. âSlow down, Daryl.â His mouth opened but snapped shut with a click of his teeth. âSay what you mean.â You pleaded in the calmest tone you could manage while numerous sentiments twisted in the pit of your stomach, tendriling out to wrap around your heart like a vice.Â
âDunno what I mean.â The defeat on his face, the utter bemusement in his eyes tore you to pieces. It also refueled every burning question that had befuddled your mind into nearly getting yourself killed.Â
âDaryl.â For some reason beyond your comprehension, you hesitated with your open palms just in front of his chest. Câmon, idiot. This is Daryl and heâ Your train of thought nearly derailed, maintaining just enough contact with the foundation to urge you onward. âDaryl, if I said that I loved you, what would you say?â Your hands finally made contact.
He reeled back a fraction of an inch, his wide eyes mimicking yours from only moments ago. âI, uhââ
âIâve always thought that you loved me.â You dared, your hands sliding over to settle on his ribs. âI know weâve never reallyâdecided that we wereââ
âSure, we did.â He cleared his throat, hand traveling toward his mouth as he inhaled. You caught his wrist before he could begin to gnaw on already abused skin. âMean, I thought weââ
You smiled and released your grasp, content to allow his hand to rest on your waist instead. âI love you.â And you held your breath. Blue orbs danced and sparkled, scrutinizing you and your declaration.Â
âYâsure?â
You didnât hesitate. âVery.âÂ
Your first kiss was everything you had expected and all you could have hoped for: sloppy, inexperienced, yet so passionate and honest. Darylâs teeth clicked into yours, uncomfortable but still inspiring a giggle that had him smiling against your mouth. A real smile. A unicorn in a world that had lost its magic.Â
And it stole your breath, precious oxygen that you werenât sure you found again until you settled on the bed beside him, sweat-soaked, sated, and more in love than you ever thought was possible.Â
He never said the words but you had all the answer you needed.Â
You were his.Â
He was yours.Â
And even if he turned beet red each and every time, youâd shout it from the rooftops.Â
Summary: You remember the night Daryl showed you his scars for the first time, while you were patching him up from a failed supply run.
A/N: guys i am so sleep deprived and swamped with work and coursework but i really wanted to get back into writing for the new year and revive my page, so sorry if this is absolute dogshit I honestly cant tell!! As always my asks are open and any spelling errors or critiques pls let me know! Happy New Year Lovelies!!
The archer was simply not what many people had preemptively assumed. He shouldn't be defined by his exterior or the way he lashed out when threatened, like a wild and dangerous wolf caught in a snare, because it's simply just not him. You know that better than anyone else.
You remember the night he dropped his walls to you, back at the prison, which felt like a lifetime ago; it might as well be.
It was storming badly outside; the wind howled and thrashed against the prison walls loudly, drowning out the sounds of walkers ravenous growls, yet the noise couldn't drown out your incessant worrying for the archer who had set out earlier that very day.
The rain seemed to pick up in momentum every time your brain screamed the different possibilities to itself. You couldn't sleep. You wouldn't until you knew he was safe and sound.
Some god might have been listening that night, he might have taken pity on your poor mortal soul for all that you'd lost, maybe the higher power who sent him back to you knew you'd need him yet. The sound of the large prison gates being pulled open was the sweetest music to your ears.
You remember racing out towards the gates to greet him, your joy faltering slightly as you took in his sorry state, soaked to the bone from the unrelenting rain and some gashes that decorated his cheek and arms, but alive nonetheless. Breathing is all you can ask for in this unforgiving new world. You know that now, more than ever.
That night you took him up to your room, the small cell in the furthest corner, which you claimed the first night you all fought your way into this block, although you didn't actually sleep in it for a good while. The fear overpowering your exhaustion. You can't really remember the cell walls anymore. The memory slipped from your brain slowly the more places you sought refuge in throughout the years.
You had walked him in slowly, closing the curtain behind you to conceal you both behind a screen. It almost gave the illusion of safety, being in a little room like that, secluded from prying eyes.
"Are you hurt badly?" you asked him quietly, grabbing a small towel and filling a bowl with some lukewarm water.
He shook his head from left to right, eyeing you warily as you lowered yourself to sit next to him with the now damp towel, gently dragging it up and down his bare arms to clear the grime away, your movements featherlight as you ghosted over a gash on his arm. A silence laid between you both, heavy but not exactly uncomfortable.
"Where else are you hurt?" you whispered, breaking the fragile silence, Daryl seemed to go ridgid at the question, staring straight ahead, chewing nervously on his bottom lip, a habit you had observed from him since way back at the quarry.
After a few long seconds in silence Daryl gently makes a move, removing the soaked leather vest, which fell to the ground with a wet plop, and slowly unbuttoning his dark grey shirt to reveal his back to you.
You held back a shocked gasp as you took in his back, long deep scars stretched across his back, colouring him in deep purples and reds. The scars have ragged and angry edges, and your body nearly ached at seeing them, mirroring his own pain in yourself. There was a new cluster of gashes where he must have skinned his back falling today. You gently shook yourself for pausing so long and sprung back into tending to his wounds. Thinking better than to acknowledge the blatant vulnerability in the moment for fear of scaring him off.
You reached out slowly to press the damp towel to his back, wishing desperately to somehow absorb the years of pain from his body, to take it into yourself and erase this past from him. However, as much as you wanted it to be possible, it wasn't. So you had to make do with easing the pain of his newest wounds, hoping to god you could convey the affection you held for him.
You cleaned his wounds with the utmost care that night, gentle movements that ensured the sting of the antiseptic was numbed, as you contemplated breaking the long, vulnerable silence.
"Daryl?" you had whispered attentively, the end of his name lilting up into a slight question. You weren't exactly sure what you were going to say yet.
"It's fine" He replied quickly, practically cutting you off, his tone gruff and almost defensive.
"it's not... it doesn't have to be fine" You whisper back, a small correction, desperately wanting, needing him to know that you cared.
The silence afterwards was long and painful, you were scared to move in case he snapped out of it, snatched his shirt back and left. in case he never spoke to you again after this, in case you pushed too far, crossed some line, some barrier he had.
What happened next was what you had least expected at the time. His shoulders, imperceptibly, started to tremble. it was such a slight movement that you could have missed it had you not been paying such close careful attention to the man before you.
You lay your hand carefully on his shoulder, offering him the slightest physical reassurance, the movement unsure and hesitant. You gave him space and time to flinch away, to turn sharply and tell you off before leaving.
But he didn't go. He didn't snap or shout or push or shove.
You kept your hand steady on the archer's back, slowly leaning forward to wrap your arms around him carefully, slow and steady in a deliberate effort not to startle him. After nearly a year in his company you had learned that Daryl startled easily, lashed out quick, and now you were beginning to understand the root cause. You cursed yourself for not seeing the signs sooner, for resenting his attitude in those first months, for arguing when he pushed you away.
It made sense now, and it broke your heart.
He let out a broken, shaky sigh as your arms wrapped around him, his breaths coming faster and irregularly as he finally let every defense crumble. In that moment nothing could have pulled you away from him, nothing at all. You were consumed by the need to comfort him, to soothe his aches and pains, to take the unbearable weight off of his shoulders.
After what felt like an eternity, and simultaneously not nearly long enough, the archer finally spoke.
âSâa hell of an ugly sightâ He mumbled, his voice uncharacteristically broken, soft.
âNo. no it's not⌠it⌠you could never be.â You whispered back, your voice hushed and gentle. You pulled back, gently beckoning him to turn to face you, desperate to tell him to his face.
âYou're perfect, scars and all.â you whispered, grabbing his face up in both hands, urging him to believe, to understand. He just stared back stunned, his eyes searching yours long and hard. For a fleeting moment you were worried you had once again overstepped, that he would push you away and leave, running from you and the prison walls.Â
All doubt left your mind when he leaned forward, the horrific world surrounding you was suddenly forgotten as his lips met yours in a soft, gentle manner. It caught you off guard before you softened against him, giving in to the magnetic pull between you both. The world turned off around you, the horrific, awful things you'd seen, and done, together became irrelevant as he pulled you in. Your hands stayed cupped around his jaw as your other went to tangle in the hair as the back of his neck.Â
When he finally broke the kiss, he leaned back to give you a long, meaningful look, his eyes taking in your facial features, your short and rapid breaths mingling with one anothers in the inches between both your faces.Â
The storm raged on outside the prison walls, but the threat that night had been swiftly forgotten as you curled up in the Archers arms, so naturally it was as if you had been doing it your whole life.Â
That night will never leave your mind even now, when youre looking at him from across the room in your apartment in the commonwealth, watching him chasing RJ about the house as laughter fills the air, or when you're standing in the doorway, listening to him read to Judith.
It was the night he dropped his guard, the night he was brave enough to rip down the walls he had built to keep you out. The night he became yours.Â
"CarolâCarol!" Daryl's expression was desperate as he rushed through the cell block. He was drenched in sweat and still clutching his kills from his hunting trip. Tears welled in Carol's eyes before he even got to her. He stopped dead and shifted his weight back and forth, back and forth. "Tell me it ain't true. Please." Daryl was shaking, barely holding back falling to pieces. His voice was quiet and strained.
Carol could barely speak, her throat was so tight. "I'm sorry," she gasped, heaving in a shaky breath. "He showed up and she was outside the walls andâand he took her." Carol watched the blood drain from her friend's face.
He seemed on the edge of passing out for a moment, and then his fists clenched along his sides and his jaw set. He burst into movement again.
"Daryl?" Carol gasped, her voice thin from the emotion clogging her throat. "Where are you going?"
"To fuckin' Woodbury. To get her back. Where ya think?!" he growled.
On a snowy day, Daryl's daughter tells him about an interesting conversation between you and Aunt Maggie, but Marley ends up spilling the beans to Carol too about her daddy's worst fear.
A/N: Just another sweet and funny imagine about Daryl and his daughter hehe another one to add to the list :) "My everything." "A whole new world." "For life." "Make you happy." Hope you like itâĽ
The whole street, the whole block, all of Alexandria is covered in snow, painting the world of the living white after being blood red for so many years. The green of the leaves has disappeared under the cold season, snowmen on every house as a reminder of the past. Snowflakes sway in a gentle dance in the evening breeze, under a sky that changes color with the passing of the hours.
On her way back home, holding her daddyâs hand, Marleyâs little world seems infinite at 5 and a half years old. Her winter boots sink into the snow, lifting it slightly with each step she takes. Her brown hair is identical to her fatherâs, a little messy under her white wool hat.
âThe shot still hurt, angel?â Daryl has to look down to meet his daughterâs gaze, blue eyes looking back at him, deeply. âYou want daddy to carry ya the rest of the way?â
Marley nods, because the walk back from visiting her mom in the infirmary was too long for her little legs.
âPlease, daddy.â
Daryl smiles as his ears fill with the tender, sweet voice of his daughter calling him daddy, a voice he learned to recognize ever since Marley said her first word. He has to bend down to pick her up, holding her against his chest as she hugs him close, his forearms beneath her, her small arms around his neck.
âWhy are ya so cute, huh?â Daryl smiles as he sets off again for the walk home. âYa do that on purpose, donât ya? Is that yer master evil plan? To make daddy love ya so much he canât breathe?â
Marley laughs, her gaze locked with her father's eyes, the corners of her lip curling into a smile as she continues to learn to understand the depth of Daddy's words, but before she can respond, a neighbor's wave from her front porch forces them both to look to the right.
Daryl lets out a small hey back without stopping, followed by a nod before turning back to his daughter, but Marleyâs eyes are still on the woman they leave behind.
âSweetheartâŚâ He uses his arms under her body to rock her once, softly, getting her to look back in his direction. âWhatâs wrong, angel?â
Marley holds a thoughtful expression, her brow furrowing slightly with the seriousness of her little thoughts at her short 5 years old. But Daryl canât help but smile, because that expression is identical to yours when you both didnât like something.
âAunt Maggie told mommy that Mrs. Ellie likes to stare at you too much when you leave the house in your sleeveless shirt in the summer. She said the neighbor was a female version of a dog, but I donât know what that means, daddy.â
Hearing her words, Daryl has to make an enormous effort not to laugh.
âMommy said that? Or was it Aunt Maggie?â
âAunt Maggie...â Marley tilts her head to the side, still thoughtful. âBut Mommy said we needed to get you some baggier clothes, or burn that shirt, or maybe just get rid of the neighbor, but I donât know what that means either.â
Itâs hilarious for Daryl at the new information, though he does his best to remain cool, but thereâs also something daring in your words, a compliment to his body even though he wore those clothes without a thought for others. Well, he knew he did it to get your attention, but not the rest of the worldâs. Daryl also knew that kids didnât know how to keep secrets, no matter if they knew or not that some things werenât supposed to be said.
And he canât help but smile.
âOh yeah? And what else mommy said about daddy, Marley?â
Marleyâs expression changes as in her mind, she starts putting the words mommy and daddy together.
âMommy told Aunt Maggie that youâre still very hot, like living forever on a summer day.â Daryl chuckles as does his daughter, having a blast with your unfiltered words, though he also knew that he had to teach his daughter later that listening to adult conversations was wrong. âIs that a good thing, daddy?â
âWell⌠that means mommy finds daddy attractive.â
Marley nods slightly.
âSo you are handsome, because you are.â She smiles, because to her, Daddy was the most handsome man in the community. Daryl shakes his head, because his reserved personality still prevented him from seeing himself the way others did. âMommy said she really likes your long hair.â
The corner of his lip curls into a smile, loving the way Marleyâs small hands brush away the strands of hair that usually cover part of his eyes.
âMaybe Daddy should tell Mommy that he really likes her too.â
Marley lets out a sweet laugh, hugging his neck again.
âYou stare at Mommy a lot, Daddy. Last week at Uncle Rickâs house, he told his wife that you couldnât take your eyes off your wife.â
Even in the dead of winter, Daryl can feel the sudden warmth on his cheeks, spreading throughout his body as he climbs the steps of his front porch, walking over to the rocking chair in the corner to sit in it with Marley on his lap, her little legs swinging out on either side.
âYes, daddy likes to look at mommy a lot, angel, and s'because mommy is a pretty thing to look at.â
Marley thinks for a few seconds, trying to understand such simple words that at the same time hide a deep meaning.
âThe love you and mommy have for me, is it the same as yours for mommy?â
Daryl has to think about his answer for a few seconds, trying to explain with words that his daughter can understand, the love he had for her and for his wife.
âS'the same, but different. Mommy and daddy love ya with all their hearts, angel, 'cause ya came into our lives to make everythin' better. And daddy loves mommy with all his heart too, thatâs why I asked mommy to be my wife, so sheâd be stuck with me for life.â Daryl tries not to laugh as he remembers that that was what he told you when you got married. âMommy and daddy love each other a lot too, and ya were born from that love.â
Marley holds his gaze, her little mind trying to process his words.
âAunt Maggie asked Mommy if you two were thinking about having another baby.â Marley tilts her head again, looking at her daddy with blue eyes that sparkle with curiosity. âAre we having another baby at home, Daddy?â
Daryl smiles as he uses one hand to tuck a strand of his daughterâs hair behind her ear, but for him, itâs a relief to see his daughter willing to share her place as queen of the house.
âDun know, angel. Daddy thinks it might be a good idea for ya to have a little brother or sister at some point, but thatâs Mommyâs decision. S'her body that has to carry the baby, and Daddy ain't pressurin' Mommy into doin' anything sheâs not comfortable with, okay?â
Marley nods.
âBut maybe if we ask Santa for a baby, he can bring one and Mommy wonât have to carry my little brother or sister inside her.â
Daryl laughs, but he too is at peace with the idea that his daughterâs innocence was still intact in that cruel world.
âThatâs an excellent idea, angel.â His hand, warm despite the season, caresses his daughterâs soft cheek. âIf s'okay with Mommy, I know yaâll be a great big sister.â
Marley smiles at the touch of her daddyâs fingers against her skin, not even noticing that his hand was calloused, somewhat rough, because he always caressed her cheek softly, so gently that she never noticed Darylâs insecurity the first time he thought he would hurt her skin.
âYou, Daryl DixonâŚâ Marley giggles, because she never used her daddyâs real name, because to her, he had always been daddy. âYouâre a good daddy. The best daddy in the whole world.â
Like the snow melting when the weather leaves winter behind, Daryl feels an overflowing love for his little daughter, his baby, his angel, feeling her love that managed to melt those fears he harbored inside him, the mistaken idea that he would never be the father Marley deserved.
âCan ya stay this little forever, angel? Can ya promise daddy ya will never leave his side?â
Marley tries not to laugh, making an effort to keep a serious expression to match her promise.
âIâll never leave your side, daddy. I promise.â
Daryl smiles, and when he does, his expression softens, always, and his blue eyes become warm as he takes in how identical his daughter is to him.
âWhatâs this beautiful couple doing here?â Carolâs sweet voice draws their attention, and Marley has to turn to look at her, smiling the instant she recognizes her. Daryl pulls her off his lap, and his daughter clings to Carolâs body the moment she climbs the porch steps. âAre you better now, honey? Your mommy said you were getting a little sick.â
Marley looks up, smiling instantly.
âYeah, Denisse gave me a shot. It hurt a little, but when she told daddy he should get one too to prove to me it didnât hurt, daddy told her only his wife could touch his ass.â
Carolâs laughter drowns out Darylâs embarrassment, embarrassment he tries to cover with a serious expression, but when she says goodbye minutes later and Marley climbs back onto his daddyâs lap, he has to keep the same expression so as not to give himself away.
âMarley, honey, s'okay when ya tell daddy that mommy thinks heâs attractive, but ya donât have to tell everyone that daddyâs scared of shots, okay?â
Marley, though confused by the contradictory idea that always telling the truth is okay, nods before leaning back against Darylâs chest, one side of her face feeling the softness of his long-sleeved black t-shirt that he always pulls up to his elbows. Daryl chuckles as he wraps his arms around her, like a refuge from the slight chill while they wait for mommy to come home. He shakes his head in disbelief, his long hair moving with him, because Daryl knows that when the day is over, his family, the family he made at the end of the world, will know that the man who survived a couple of gunshots and several fights is scared of shots.
Oh, but what the hell, because after marrying the love of his life and having a little girl as a daughter, everyone already knew that, despite his rough exterior, Daryl was a big softie (in a good way) for his girls.
Despite being together with you, Daryl would still find it hard to express his feelings. He knew how he felt about you, but not how to say it so that you knew.
Sure he showed you he loved you in anyway he could but words were lost on him, until he found a book while out scavenging. The title read: every day, iâll love you.
He sat in the faux-leather brown chair, opening the book to a random page. He leaned back, resting a foot over a his knee and almost forgetting where he was.
He tore the page out and folded it up but shoved the book into his bag.
When he came back to you, he felt awkward, like a kid having a crush on a girl for the first time, as he handed the paper to you. Before you could ask him anything, he left, with a poor excuse to go talk to Rick about something.
The paper was slightly yellow, you could tell it was from a book. You assumed a notebook, that Daryl had written something only for your eyes.
Confused, you open it only to find something that made your eyes sting. You looked up but Daryl was gone and no one was paying you the slightest bit of attention.
The note said:
You managed to track Daryl down a little later on.
âHey.â You tapped him on the shoulder, soft smile on your face and the words of the page in your mind.
Daryl turned to you and smiled when you kissed his cheek. âHey.â
You leaned in and whispered, âThanks for the note. But Iâm the lucky one.â
âNah. Yer not.â He turned to fully face you, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifted you up, kissing your smile.
Thank you so much for supporting my work and taking the time to read what I create!!! Writing has been a passion of mine for years, but itâs something I hadnât picked up again until recentlyâafter nearly a decade away from it. To know that people not only read my stories but enjoy them means the absolute world to me.
This blog and the friends I've made has reminded me of how much I love creating these little worlds, and itâs all thanks to your kind words, encouragement, and enthusiasm. Youâve reignited a part of me I didnât realize I missed so much.
Hereâs to more stories, more inspiration, and the love of Daryl Dixon we all share. Iâm so grateful for every single one of you. â¤ď¸
Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for making this such a special experience.
The fire crackles softly, filling the room with a warm glow that flickers across the walls, casting long, lazy shadows over the worn furniture and the threadbare rug underneath you. Outside, the cold wind whistles against the windows, causing them to rattle every so often. But here, inside the warmth of the house, itâs quiet, calm. The world beyond these walls feels distant, dulled by the flicker of flames and the steady rhythm of your breaths.
Youâre nestled in Darylâs lap, his back propped against the base of the couch. His arms are a comforting weight around you, holding you close. With your legs folded across his, you lean into him, your head tucked beneath his chin. His hands drift absently through your hair, his calloused fingers catching gently on the strands before smoothing them out again. The motion is slow, unthinking, and so tender and sweet.
Every so often, he leans forward, his lips brushing against your temple, then your cheek, and onceâsoft and lingeringâagainst your nose. Each kiss feels deliberate, like heâs committing every line of you to memory.
The smell of pine lingers faintly in the room, mingling with the smoky tang of the fire. There's a small Christmas tree in the corner, decorated with scavenged ribbons and mismatched ornaments. It glows softly with the faint light of a string of battery-powered bulbs. Itâs lopsided, leaning slightly to one side, but itâs yours. And something Daryl had done just for you.
âYer warm,â he murmurs just now, the words barely audible, his arms tightening ever so slightly around your body.
You hum in response, shifting slightly to settle deeper into him. The sound of his steady breathing and the warmth of his arms around you is enough to make you feel weightless. Somewhere down the street, the faint noise of Deannaâs Christmas party drifts through the stillness, laughter and music carried by the cold wind. But it feels a world away.
âThey still going at it, you think?â you ask softly. Your voice is low, teasing, your cheek pressing against his chest.
âProlly,â he mutters, his lips brushing against the crown of your head. âAinât missinâ nothinâ, though.â
âI hope Carol at least saves us some cookies,â you say playfully, âUnless theyâve already devoured everything.â
âShe prolly stashed some somewhere. Knows theyâll tear through âem.â He huffs a soft laugh, the sound more like a quiet rumble in his chest. âI ainât worried.â
You smile to yourself, savoring thisâ just the moment. Thereâs something about the warmth of his voice, the way his hands stay so steady and gentle even though his whole world has been rough edges. His hands continue their stroking of your locks, and it feels like something precious, something you donât want to let go of.
After a beat of silence, you shift slightly in his lap, angling your head to glance up at him. âHey,â you murmur, a mischievous smile curling at the edges of your lips. âIâve got something for you.â
Daryl tilts his head, his brow furrowing as he looks down at you. âWhat?â
âA Christmas gift,â you say, pulling a small, clumsily wrapped bundle from the pocket of your sweater. âSurprise.â
He frowns, his eyes darting to the package and then back to you. âDonât need nothinâ.â
âWell, too bad,â you say lightly, placing it in his hands. âYouâre getting it anyway.â
He exhales sharply, but the way his fingers curl carefully around the gift betrays his curiosity. He peels back the paper slowly, methodical as always, and when he finally reveals the knife nestled inside, his breath catches. Itâs one you made, though not entirely on your ownâRosita's talent for knowing how to disassemble an old, ugly knife and reassemble it onto a new handle had been invaluable.
But the handle itself, that was yours. Weeks of carving, sanding, and perfecting the grip until it fit in your hand like it belonged there. Youâd smoothed out the wood until it was free of every imperfection, careful and precise as you could be. The laminate had been the hardest part to findâan essential finish to make it usable without risking splinters. Now, dark and polished, the handle feels solid, complete.
A single word is carved into the side: Always. The letters are uneven, the depth of each line a little shaky. Youâd whispered that word to one another in quieter moments, a promise exchanged in place of three others meant only for the two of you.
Daryl stares at it for a long moment, his thumb brushing over the word. âYou did this?â he asks quietly, his voice thick in a way that makes your chest tighten.
âYeah,â you say, suddenly shy. âFigured it might⌠yâknow, come in handy.â
His lips twitch, the faintest hint of a smile breaking through the seriousness on his face. âSâperfect.â
âEven though the âAâ is a little lopsided?â you tease, trying to lighten the mood.
âThat partâs perfect too,â he mutters, his fingers tightening around the handle. He lifts his gaze to meet yours, and thereâs something soft and unguarded in his eyes. âThank you. It⌠it means a lotâ. Even with yer messy writin,â
You swallow the lump in your throat, smiling and leaning into him. âGood. âCause you mean a lot."
He lets out a breath, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head. âLove ya, hunny,â he mumbles, before pressing his lips against yours in a tenderness that leaves your heart aching.
You hum in response against him, leaning close and gripping his shirt in your hands. When he pulls away, his lips press into a thin line, his brow furrowing. âI, uhâŚâ He shifts slightly, reaching behind him and pulling a small bundle out of the pocket of his jacket. âFound these for ya. Thought âbout just givinâ ya coal, butâŚâ He chuckles, his eyes flicking to yours. âFigured thisâd solve the problem instead.â
You take the bundle from him, unwrapping it carefully, and laugh softly when you see the thick, fleece lined leather gloves inside. Theyâre soft and warm, clearly picked with care.
âFer when yer freezinâ yer damn hands off,â he says gruffly, rubbing the back of his neck. âAnd stickinâ âem under my shirt.â
You laugh, slipping one of the gloves on and wiggling your fingers. âTheyâre perfect. Way better than coal.â
âYeah, well,â he mutters, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. âMaybe now youâll stop tryna freeze me tâdeath and I wonât have to consider it fer next year,â
âMaybe,â you tease, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. âBut I sure do love the face you make when I do it.â
He huffs, though his ears tint pink, and his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer. The fire crackles on, the warmth wrapping around you like a blanket, but itâs his lips, soft and lingering against your temple, that make you feel truly safe. He pauses for a moment, then presses another kiss to the crown of your head, his hands smoothing over your back.
For a moment, neither of you speak. The fire pops softly in the hearth, its light still casting everything into golden light. His thumb brushes absentmindedly along your back, and you find yourself marveling at how something so simple, so quiet, can feel like the most profound thing in the world.
You shift again, your hand rubbing along his sweater clad forearm as you tilt your head to look up at him, your voice barely above a whisper. âMerry Christmas, Daryl.â
His hand slides up to cup your jaw, fingers gentle as his eyes search your face with a gentleness only found in these sorts of moments. In the quiet, with just the two of you.
âMerry Christmas,â he murmurs, leaning in to press his mouth to yours, and for the first time in a long, long time, everything feels right.
Of my Daryl Dixon/Norman Reedus friends and followers, PLEASE help this wonderful human out, every little helps and she is an absolute gem and the kindest and most supportive person I know.
If you are able to help, please let me know and I will offer you a free commission of your character or your person with any character that Norman Reedus plays in the new year.
