imagine having a baddie in ur bedroom asking to see ur boobs and fumbling 😭😭 shes terrorized by her ghost for a REASON thats her lesbian conscience reminding her she fucked up
ʚɞ author's note: yes I’m aware this has Jackienat vibes it’s one of my fav non canon ships sue me.
ღ You and Jackie Taylor couldn’t possibly be more different, she was rich, popular and captain of the football team, fake smiles and friends all around, Jackie Taylor was the kind of girl who knew exactly how to act, what to say and how to say it, in order to fit in and get what she wants.
ღ You on the other hand were a “burnout”, “trailer trash” you name it. You were used to the harsh nicknames and the comments about your financial status. Unlike Jackie you prioritised quality over quantity when it came to friends there were about two people you considered your friend, one of them being Natalie who lived near you.
ღ The two of you had never properly interacted outside the context of the team, sure you’d say good morning in the locker room and listen to her pep talks and pass her the ball during the game but that was about it. And it was honestly more than enough, Jackie was a prissy spoiled rich princess in your opinion, and you wanted nothing to do with the drama and attention that always seemed to follow her around. Or so you thought.
ღ It was Mari’s 17th birthday party, everyone had been drinking whatever concoction they managed to conjure up with the alcohol available and Jackie Taylor was more than a little drunk, lightweight. You first find her outside sulking outside of the house. Every rational part of you tells you to leave her there it’s none of your business, but the more sensible part of you just couldn’t leave the girl out in the street to be murdered, so against your best judgement you approach the queen bee.
“What are you doing here?” - sulking Jackie emote
“Making sure you don’t get kidnapped and cut to bits how are we going to make it to nationals without our captain?”
“You’re not funny.” She says while sniffling.
She than told you about everything, what started as a fight with Shauna backtracked to her parents weird behaviour towards her and than how utterly sick she is of Jeff and how guilty she feels for not loving him like she’s supposed to.
ღ You assumed Jackie just needed someone to vent to in her drunken and vulnerable state and that the next day she wouldn’t even remember that she told you all of that. Wrong, Jackie remembers, she also remembers how attentive you were, how you listened to her, really listened and comforted her, despite you two not being “best friends”.
ღ After that, Jackie started paying attention to you, more accurately she couldn’t stop paying attention to you, she felt strange like a stalker almost, she also didn’t understand why she suddenly felt weirdly jealous every time she saw you with Nat.
ღ She loved when you were late to class, because that meant she had an excuse to stare at you shamelessly while you walked to your desk in the back.
ღ She made a plan to get closer to you to get to know you better, because all she knew was that you liked to smoke and play soccer and that you were a really good listener. And insanely attractive.
ღ She started pairing up with you during soccer warm ups much to Shauna and Natalie’s dismay she kept saying that it would be beneficial for team bonding to switch up the usual pairs. She also invited you and just you to a “study session” at her house and than said that the rest of the girls just didn’t show up.
ღ You knew what was up, you weren’t stupid. But Jackie clearly wasn’t ready to admit to herself that what she felt for you was a little bit more than friendship, and you weren’t about to push her. Plus it was adorably hilarious watching her buy punk rock cassettes just to have something to talk to you about.
ღ The first time you two kissed was at one of Randy’s parties. She was drunk and you were high and it just happened surprisingly it wasn’t awkward if anything it felt right.
ღ After that, you expected Jackie to ignore you to say it never happened to attribute it to a lack of judgment and way to much alcohol in her system but, to your surprise, the next day, she waited for you outside the locker room, at the end of practice, and told you how she felt about you but that she wasn’t ready for other people to know when she barely understood it herself, you told her you two could take things slow, that it was cool, and in that moment she fell a little bit more in love with you.
ღ when you two began dating Jackie saved a seat for you everywhere, in class, the cafeteria, in the locker room so you could change near her, you also always drove to school together.
ღ Sneaking away during parties so you can make out and feel each other up. Jackie always giving Jeff a half assed excuse that she needed to go to the bathroom.
ღ Jackie doesn’t smoke much if at all, she shared a cigarette with Lottie at parties occasionally, but that was about it. So when you first had her try a joint she got buzzed after two or three hits, her big eyes half lidded while she watched mesmerised as the smoke left your mouth. You felt giddy when she asked you to shotgun with her, to teach her, because she had never done that with someone.
ღ Making out under the bleachers or in your car before practice and than watching Jackie run because she hates being late.
ღ Jackie who, steals your clothes all the time mainly your leather jacket, because it smells like you and she secretly likes the feeling of being someone’s, yours.
ღ You two have pretty different styles but Jackie likes to match with you even if it’s just color coordinating her outfits to yours or wearing one singular similar article of clothing.
ღ Jackie told Shauna about you two, so you decided to tell Nat. While Shauna was incredibly apprehensive for a number of reasons Nat just found the whole thing incredibly funny in a “damn Taylor didn’t know you had it in ya.” Way.
ღ Jackie who, eventually dumps Jeff. It’s hard for her to let go of the version of herself she always saw in her head but she couldn’t keep lying to him, he didn’t deserve that no one does, in her opinion.
ღ The first time you two had sex was also the first time she ever came. She was breathless and fell asleep in your arms soon after muttering that she didn’t know she could do that.
ღ Jackie who’s a sucker for soft, gentle, slow sex, she loves to kiss you slowly and look you in the eyes while your fingers are buried deep inside her and your bodies are pressed against each other’s.
ღ Jackie who, is a queen of preparation therefore a queen of aftercare, you want water, snacks, massages, kisses, shower you name it she’ll give it to you.
ღ Jackie who, loves to cook, bake especially and has you try on all the different food she makes while you hug her from behind.
ღ Jackie who, buys you two promise rings and has you promise you’ll never leave her. You would never leave her, you couldn’t.
ღ Jackie who, to everyone’s surprise is the one to propose to you, she takes you to a pretty place with a nice view and has a whole speech that has her crying at the end of it while she kisses your lips after you say yes, as you taste her tears on your lips.
He’s never really had people rely on him before. Sure, that changed during the apocalypse. Still, throughout all of the protection, he has never been fully convinced that it’s truly him they need. Daryl Dixon, useless redneck lowlife. It’s more like, y’know, they needed someone and he was available to do the job.
Just once, he wants to be wanted. Most of his life, he has been despised. He wasn’t exactly planned, so his mother downright ignored him, preferred her cigarettes from the beginning just like his father the bottle. With Merle, they at least seemed to notice him. Sure, it came in the form of getting beaten, but he used to wish that it were him instead of his brother. Merle just wanted to leave, anyway. He never wanted to be there. Once he did, Daryl took his place. His father turned to take his frustration out on him and suddenly he would have preferred to be ignored. He secretly hated Merle for going away… Only to do the same once he gained the courage.
Now, people seem to rely on him alright. For runs, strenght, protection. He provides for the group in a way he never has before, looks out for them in a way he never has for anyone but himself.
With you, it’s different. Everytime he does something nice for you, you smile at him with that glow in your eyes that makes him want to do stupid things… Like go back to the bookstore he stopped at for you, and bring back the whole inventory just to see it again.
He gave in to the temptation once. Hunted for a copy of Northanger Abbey in the city and almost got himself killed. Strangely, bookstores never seem fall victim to scavengers. He supposes people just stopped reading because no one can risk being distracted. Not that he ever has. It’s just that you do, and that means there must be some appeal to it that he missed, which was the sole reason why he stopped just short of the door and went back to grab Pride and Prejudice, too.
Read it in secret so you wouldn’t be disappointed if he didn’t go through with it. It was weirdly nice though, mainly because he imagined the surprise on your face when he’d impress you with his newly acclaimed knowledge on literature.
And surprised you were. You thought he was kidding at first, since Daryl hardly seemed the type to enjoy books. He didn’t have much time with hunting, being Rick’s second in command and constantly killing walkers on top of that. But he took some anyway, just because you liked to read.
“I can’t believe you actually went through with that! Daryl, that’s so sweet of you.”
He only gave a huff in response. There it was again. That smile. He turned away and pretended to be busy keeping watch of the treeline, mainly because he didn’t know what to say. No one had ever called him that. Sweet.
Also, he felt the warmth spread from his heart to his face, and didn’t really care for you to see his blush.
However, Daryl didn’t get rid of you that easily. Once you heard that he read one of your favorite books, naturally, you wanted to talk about it. Fuck, he should have anticipated that. You stubbornly stayed glued to his side for the whole evening. Not that he really minded.
“So how’d you like it?” Damn your expectant eyes. It was difficult, that’s what it was.
“Eh. Wasn’t bad.” He bit his lip. Was that really all he could come up with? For lack of something smarter to say, he just blurted out the next best thing. “That Darcy guy sure is a prick.”
To his suprise, you nodded frantically. “I completely agree! I mean, sure, he accepted Elizabeth and her family in the end, but that doesn’t mean he really changed. He’s still at least somewhat superficial.”
“Right, ‘s what I thought too.”
From that day on, you sook him out more often to talk about books. It was both a blessing and a curse. Spending time with you felt amazing, but he just couldn’t match your knowledge.
However, and that’s only one more reason to like you, you never seemed to mind. On the contrary, you gave him more recommendations, even went out of your way to suggest novels that you thought would suit his tastes. He pretended to look for them, stupid Hemingway or whatever it was whenever he came upon a bookstore or library during runs, but really he just wanted to read the books that you called your favorites.
It was a good way to learn more about you without invading your space. At least in theory, ‘cause whenever Daryl read a story you told him you’d read as well he felt like he was intruding into your heart or something. Like reading some sort of diary. He imagined what you thought of certain wordings when you stumbled upon them all this time ago, wondered if you had been able to foresee plot twists or which character you liked most.
His favorite thing about reading was talking to you about the books afterwards. Finally, you could answer all those questions even if he didn’t have the courage to ask outright.
Sometimes your opinions suprised him. For instance, he had been absolutely sure that you lied about liking Metamorphosis because you were scared of bugs. Yet, you insisted that it was one of your all time favorites. Your extensive knowledge however never failed to blow him away. Like when you told him that Gregor Samsa didn’t really turn into an insect, that it was just a metaphore. Well, probably. Apparently you never know with Kafka. At least that explained how the book earned it’s place in your inner bookshelf, ‘cause he swore there was no way in hell you would have liked it if there had been real bugs involved.
𝐵𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑠𝑎𝑓𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝘩𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑦. 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑙 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛ˊ𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑟𝑒. If anything, it got him even more hooked on doing nice things for you. Acts of service, if you wanted. Not that he loved you. No, that was no it. He just thought you were a decent person. A little ditzy — it was a miracle how you survived this long, actually — but he didn’t mind. If anything, he thought it was cute. No, wait — not in that way. Not cute. It could get you killed someday, which was just another one of his reasons for going out of his way to protect you. You fucking needed it. Or did he just need you? That happy smile whenever he snuck you a treat?
Well, it didn’t matter anyway because your deserved way better than him. Daryl didn’t even know how he got this infatuated. Honestly, it was infuriating. He had always been alone and now… he constantly yearned for your company. Scared him a little bit. Not you, you weren’t scary — anything but, most of the time — but how close you were able to get. How close he allowed you to be.
No, scratch that. He was terrified because he didn’t only enjoy your presence but also wanted you close and even closer. He liked it when you talked his ear off about stupid old made-up stories and dead authors or how it was a shame that the apocalypse aquired killing squirrels to survive (because they were so adorable), and he liked it when he was able to exceed your expectations.
Sure, it stung a little every time your eyes widened when he revealed yet another present he had brought back to the camp. He knew he wasn’t anything but an uneducated redneck in your eyes but he tried, okay? Though he wasn’t sure why. Not like there was any possibility of winning you over, and he wasn’t cut out for these type of relationships anyway.
Little did he know, the thoughts running through your head didn't even come close to that. Surprised, that you were, but only because no one had ever done such sweet things for you. It made you imagine what it would be like if he did all those things because he liked you and not because you barely held your own. Daryl probably thought you were an absolute apocalypse failure and annoying on top of that, pestering him with book talk. God… you’d just enjoy it while it lasted.
Meanwhile, Daryl held onto every ounce of gratitude that you bestowed upon him. He felt blessed, knew deep down that there was no way this would last longer than a couple of months anyway. If everything went back to normal tomorrow, you probably wouldn’t spare him a second glance and leave, just like all the others.
He wouldn’t pretend that he was more than a means to survival for any of them. It would only hurt once they came upon something better and left him. He figured he’d get over it eventually, go back to being on his own like back when he left his fathers house. Merle wasn’t out there to lend him a helping hand anymore, but he didn’t need that, either. He had learned to get by on his own, and that was alright. It was just how things were, how they had always been.
𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑦𝑙 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝑡 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑤𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝘩𝑒 𝘩𝑎𝑑 𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢. For now, he supposed he’d just count himself lucky. Enjoy it while it lasted. ‘Cause right now, you needed him in some twisted way. Even if it was only because he wasn’t scared of anything, neither walkers nor bugs, or because he was tough enough to kill a squirrel so the group wouldn’t starve.
He’d just go on doing what he always did… Telling you he caught a hare today — not that it was better (he could bet you were a vegetarian before the outbreak, too sympathetic for your own good), but they were at least a few places lower than squirrels on your list of favorite animals that he knew by heart by now. Once it was skinned, you couldn’t make out the difference anyway.
As for books, the next one that he’d look for was Little Women. You’d told him that you’d read it when you were only nine. Figures, you probably came out of the womb a nerd. He wonders what you were like as a child.
Part of him hopes it’s one of those girly books that have love stories in them. He likes listening to you talk about those especially, even though the characters that make you swoon aren’t anything like him. It’s stupid, but he likes pretending that he could be. Even if it’s only for a second. Imagines it being him who changes for you like Mr. Darcy did for Elizabeth, only that he would do a better job, of course, so you would never ever call him superficial.
Maybe Daryl was only telling himself that you needed him. If he was being honest with himself, you probably didn’t. Anyone could do these things. It wasn’t anything special.
It’s just like with the romance books — he likes pretending. It makes him feel a little bit better about himself. Makes him feel useful.
You had just caught Daryl in the middle of the night, sitting on your couch, focused on fixing one of your pistols that had jammed earlier that day, right after you and Rick had returned from a long and exhausting supply run. The atmosphere was silent, except for the occasional sound of metal being adjusted and the slight creaking of the couch under his weight. You stood in the doorway, wearing only your nightgown, watching the hands of the man intently, trying persistently to find a way to fix that piece of metal that seemed to be the last one on Earth. He hadn't yet noticed your presence there, immersed in his thoughts and the task at hand.
You had known for a long time that you harbored feelings for Daryl, and you knew he felt the same way about you; it was a feeling that intensified with each passing day. But seeing him sitting in your living room, so engrossed in something that was yours, was a shock.
The sounds of the metal being tuned ceased suddenly, and you noticed Daryl was looking at you in a way you'd never seen before. It was an expression of fear, a vulnerability that contrasted with his usual strong and fearless demeanor. Your eyes met in an instant that seemed to stretch for an eternity, making you both stiffen, and the silence around you became almost palpable.
You try to return to your relaxed and friendly nature, striving to remain calm amidst the tension of the moment. "I wasn't expecting a visitor…" you say, attempting a calming tone, but then a nervous laugh escapes your lips, and you find yourself averting your gaze from the man sitting on the sofa, who still displays that strange and confused expression, as if trying to process the situation.
Daryl, soon after, tries to articulate some words to answer you, but they seem to get lost inside his mouth, as if they were struggling to find a way out. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out, only unrecognizable grunts that echo in the silent air. Meanwhile, he averts his gaze, focusing anywhere but you, as if that could help disguise the shame that overwhelms him.
You, noticing Daryl's state, can't help but find it extremely endearing how this man, who during the day seemed so carefree and fearless, now appeared like a wet dog, embarrassed for having been caught in an awkward situation. The way he tried to compose himself but failed to hide his own vulnerability only made everything even more captivating and cute. "Can you help me understand what's going on here?" You ask, somewhat curious to know what he would answer.
"I found this broken gun and figured I’d try fixin’ it… that’s it," Daryl said in a low tone, but still trying to be confident, even knowing that this excuse was extremely blatant at that point. He tried to look at you with an expression that mixed nervousness and determination, as if he were trying to convince not only you, but himself, that what he was saying was the truth.
“And why would you be doing this in my house exactly?” You asked in a somewhat ironic tone, raising your eyebrow slightly, knowing that what he had said was a lie. The situation was almost comical, because he knew that gun was yours, and you were sure it wasn't the first time Daryl had done something like this without giving you an explanation. One day, you complained to him that something in your house was breaking or about to break, and the very next day, everything was in perfect condition, as if what you had seen was an illusion.
Daryl remained silent, lost in his own thoughts in response to your question. He knew there was no escaping this embarrassing situation, but at the same time, he didn't want to succumb to his pride in any way, so he continued sitting there, his eyes fixed on the floor, as if he wished to disappear at that moment, to vanish completely from the world that surrounded him, if that were somehow possible.
You watch the scene intently, trying to decipher what was going through his mind. He certainly didn't want to admit why he was there, and you could feel the resistance in his posture, and, knowing Daryl the way he is, you knew the last thing he would do would be to confess the real reasons behind his actions—you wondered if he even understood what he was feeling.
“Could you at least tell me why you’ve been fixing my things?” You ask, trying to sound as neutral as possible, but your tone carries your frustration, already aware that he would probably remain silent, leaving you without an answer like always.
“I just wanted to look out for you or somethin'," Daryl murmurs, his words coming out hesitantly, as if each syllable required considerable effort, but still looking directly at you this time.
A slight smile appears on your lips as you realize what those simple words really mean to both of you.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader ANGST
Summary: Your relationship with Spencer was anything but kind. Some days you wished you would fall through the Earth and escape. But, after a group of survivors arrive, a glimmer of hope appears.
Warning: 18+ Minors DNI ✦ Swearing ✦ DOMESTIC ABUSE (not by daryl) !! ✦ Mentions of cuts and bleeding ✦ Injury ✦ Violence ✦ VERBAL ABUSE ✦ Evil Spencer
Word Count: 3.8k
Author's Note: This story is about to come to a head, and I promise that it will get happier! Also, if you are not comfortable with reading about domestic abuse PLEASE KEEP YOURSELF SAFE. Please remember that the domestic abuse hotline is 24/7 available for you if you need it.
masterlist
part one
That look that Spencer gave him was a warning. Like if Daryl got too close, he’d leave with his teeth punched in.
Daryl didn’t fear Spencer. That little mama’s boy? No.
But the thought of messing up something good scared him. Terrified him.
It was so rare these days to have someone you could call yours. If Daryl had to back off and let you be happy, he would. You deserved it.
He felt a longing in his chest, like anger and rage boiled down into one solid mass. Like it should have been him glaring into the eyes of a man who threatened his relationship.
A sick feeling made his feet move faster than his brain. In that moment, he found himself walking inside and slamming the door shut. Daryl only spent a moment in his head, consumed by the flood of that nasty feeling that destroyed his self-worth with each incoming wave.
As if drawn out by a siren call, a loud knock broke him from his trance. Daryl inhaled a deep sigh of frustration and swung open the door. “The hell ya’ want?” He hadn’t even looked up to see who it was.
“Relax pookie, it’s only me.” Carol snickered when Daryl muttered a quiet “shut up”. Carol’s eyes traveled to the sleeping bag on the floor behind him.
“Beds are just too soft, huh?” Daryl hummed in agreement.
“What’s got you so worked up?” Carol absentmindedly walked around his place, admiring the features of his apartment and comparing it to hers.
Silence.
Carol turned to face him and noticed his eyes flicker to the window. Her eyebrows rose as she stumbled over to see what he was looking at.
There, across the space in between Daryl’s place and yours, you stood at your own window. You were washing dishes with these pink rubber gloves. Adorable, domestic.
“Aww, are you in love?” She taunted Daryl with a pout. “Ya got good taste, she’s very cute.” Carol snickered when he tried to shut the blinds in frustration, his face beet red.
“S’nothing. Run went bad.” He grunted a lie, praying that Carol wouldn’t see straight through him. And normally, she would.
But, Spencer came into view, his large arms wrapping around your waist and bringing his lips to your neck. He seemed to whisper sweet nothings into your ear.
Carol laughed to herself and shut the blinds. “I get it. You’re jealous.”
Jealous. That word.
“Ain’t jealous.” His voice wavered slightly, a tone that immediately made Carol snicker.
“Sure you aren’t. You could probably take him, y’know.” She teased, shoving his shoulder. Yeah, he most likely could. Hell, Daryl could shoot him in the foot with his bow.
Wouldn’t make a difference. You were in love with Spencer.
The next few days, Daryl avoided you like the plague.
Because, for the first time since he had arrived, he understood that you belonged to someone else. And, based on the way you’d lean into his touch, the eager and loving smile on your face…
You loved him.
That didn’t stop his gaze, however, which searched for you in every room. God, he worried himself to death whenever you were gone. He wished he could come up to you, talk to you about your day.
He felt a pain, a longing to hear your voice, your laughs, and the little things about you.
That’s why he flinched when he heard your voice behind him while he was fixing up a car for one of the other neighbors. “Daryl, where have you been? We haven’t talked in forever!”
Your friendly tone masked the uncertainty you were truly feeling. Daryl had stopped talking to you completely. Was it something you said? Did you push him too far?
“Been busy-” He grunted out a meek response, not even sparing a glance your way.
“Uh can-” You cleared your throat. “Could you come help me lift something? Spencer’s out right now, or I would have asked him.”
I would have asked him.
Those words struck Daryl like a knife in his side. He was a second thought, a backup, lesser-than version of your man.
Still, he mustered the gall to answer. “Mhm,” he grunted and pushed himself off the ground to go help you.
He watched you walk in front of him as you led him to your porch. Daryl’s gaze traveled up and down your frame, watching the sway of your hips in almost a hypnotizing manner.
Daryl realized he was staring and quickly cleared his throat. “S’this what you need?” He saw a large potted plant sitting on the top stair, and noticed the hook you had been trying to place it on.
“Yeah.” You looked down at your feet. Part of you felt like screaming, grabbing him, running away. Anything to get you away from Spencer.
But it wasn’t safe. Spencer was conniving and arrogant. He’d find you, he’d steal you back.
You’d never be free.
You were drawn from your thoughts when you heard your name being called. “Y/n, you okay?” Daryl was looking into your eyes at this point, noticing the glossed-over look. The stare that reached him and far beyond.
And he recognized it. “Y’look scared.”
You pulled away from his eye contact and grabbed the plant. “Could you just hang this, please?” You avoided the statement, the truth sitting just behind your eyes, threatening to fall out in one fell swoop.
Daryl took the plant from you, a pit in his stomach growing at your avoidance.
“Hey Daryl.” Spencer approached the porch, his eyes boring holes into the space between you and Daryl.
Daryl was safe. He was a good man. “Keep going, you’re fine.” You give him a faint smile.
He shook his head. “S’not right.” He mumbled and set the plant down, making his way down the steps. He gave Spencer a quick nod before walking away.
It felt like the air was knocked out of your chest. Daryl left.
“Y/n, what the fuck was that about, huh?” Spencer approached you with a low voice, his hands gently holding yours. A mere front to his real emotions, a show that he put on for others.
The next few days felt suffocating. Daryl hadn’t even seen you. Not even in the window.
At least not until the little town event. A campfire sat in the middle of the town, with logs placed for seating and plenty of space for cooking whatever the group could come up with.
With some tough love from Carol and a sliver of hope that he might see you there, Daryl decided to show up.
In the time between when you last spoke with Daryl, it seemed like Spencer wasn’t the only plague on your life.
You laid on the couch the past few days, tears spilling from your eyes with no abandon. A blank, lost expression replaced your once hopeful self.
He left. Daryl left.
On particularly late nights, you would find yourself swimming in your own sea of thoughts. Maybe you weren’t being fair to him. How could he save you if you didn’t tell him you needed saving?
You wrote him letters with some scrap paper you had found on one of your runs. “I wish I had the courage to tell you. It kills me, y’know. Seeing you around, helping people.” You wrote, your expression bearing everything but joy.
“I wish many things, actually. I could finally tell you, scream it out that I’m not in control here. Tell you that you’re the first person to show me an ounce of fucking decency in months.” A flat chuckle left your mouth as you realized how juvenile these words may seem.
But it was true.
“You really hurt me the other day. Seeing you walk away and leave me with Spencer felt like a stab in the chest.” Tears were falling freely now, dripping onto the paper and blending with the fresh ink from a pen.
You paused before writing your next sentence. This was too real, too real to be written down forever.
“Sometimes I wish I could feel your touch. A gentle touch, without pressure, without strings.” A heavy heat rose through your body, feeling an overwhelming sense of anxiety at the fact that this is reality.
“Maybe I’ll build up the courage to tell you today at the campfire. We’ll see.” With that, you slammed the book shut and slipped it underneath the floorboards of a corner in the house. With the large pile of letters you amassed over the past month of knowing Daryl, thoughts of scattering them across the house crossed your mind.
It was almost time for the campfire, and you definitely had some work to do in order to be presentable. You passed by the couch you had been lying on the last couple of days.
A deep sadness washed over you upon seeing it. The dent in the couch, unbothered by the hours spent sobbing and shaking uncontrollably.
Keep pushing. You shouted inwardly.
After a nice warm shower, you got dressed in whatever was clean and begrudgingly made your way to the campfire. Your heartbeat pounded incessantly, the sound clouding your ears.
Public appearances were always hard on you. The sheer exhaustion from keeping up your act. By the end of the night, your face always ached from the fake smiling.
“Ah, there she is! C’mere honey.” A grin crept onto your mouth as you sat next to Spencer on a log in front of the flames. Orange glowing embers flew into the air, threatening to land on the pair of you. Spencer wrapped an arm around you, “What were you up to, princess?” His eyes glanced down to meet yours.
“Workin’ miracles. You think I look this good by sheer luck?” Your laugh echoed across the neighborhood, alerting a certain man you had been longing for.
You pushed down the thought of how you sat in front of the mirror for 20 minutes today, fighting back tears as you put on your second layer of foundation over the bruises on your face and neck.
“Yeah, leave her be, Spence. A lady needs her girl time.” Maggie gave you a nod and smiled, a feature of hers that made you feel a sliver of warmth every time you saw it.
“She doesn’t even need a miracle. You’re gorgeous already, sweetheart!”
Blood rushed to Daryl’s face as he realized why you had been so distant. It hurts to see you fawning over him, to see you hanging on his every word.
“Oh, hush, we’ll talk about it later.” You gave Spencer a wink and leaned against his chest, breaking eye contact to ease the burn you felt in your throat.
A wave of nausea hit Daryl as he sat just feet away from you. You truly loved him. He thought.
He eyed Spencer as he placed a hand over your thigh, rubbing small circles into your denim jeans as he listened to Rick’s exaggerated story about something the group had gone through.
The story didn’t matter. He didn’t even fucking hear it.
He heard the blood rushing in his ears, commanding him to look away as Spencer’s hand drifted further up your leg, squeezing your thigh with possessiveness.
With a dejected sigh, Daryl faced a familiar friend.
“See something you like over there? You’re whipped, honey.” Carol mumbled, her eyes drifting to Spencer with a raised eyebrow.
“Nah I ain’t.” He grunted, glancing back in your direction to see you placing a quick kiss onto Spencer’s lips, a gigantic smile plastered across your face.
The beer he was sipping was left on the log bench as he strutted off into the recesses of the neighborhood. God, he couldn’t take it anymore.
His stomach twisted in raw emotion. The anger, the jealousy, and even some sadness ripped out any thought of you ever being his.
How could he ever win you over? A rugged man who looked like he’d been a lifelong stray.
How could he ever compete with pretty-boy, Spencer? Hell, he’d probably be the type to wake you up with breakfast in bed.
And he was just goddamn useless.
“Daryl, stop being such a baby.” Carol’s words brought him back from the ledge of spiraling into self-hatred, at least for now.
“Quit it, will ya?” He turned away, sulking in his own self-pity. The sight of this grown man sulking like a child earned a snicker from Carol.
“Look, you wanna be around her, right? Well, how can you possibly do that from all the way over here? She’s taken, Daryl. But let me tell you from experience, a ring ain’t always forever.” Daryl paused his thoughts to process Carol’s words.
“Ya’ think I should try?” Daryl’s voice quieted as he asked.
“I think you should be there for her.” Carol glanced back at the campfire, a sad, knowing look in her eyes.
“Like stick around?” Daryl didn’t quite understand. How would being close help?
“Just do it. Be what she needs, be there.” Carol’s words were cryptic, and left Daryl wondering what his next steps were.
Daryl’s feet felt heavy as he tracked his way back to the campfire. Reluctant, unsure eyes met yours. A stare that spoke of late-night chats on the porch, of figuring things out together, of exploring this new broken world with someone by your side.
You shifted in your seat to ease the ache in your back from holding a pose with Spencer while you pretended everything was okay. Under his grasp, you felt his chest rise as his breath hitched in rising anger.
“So Y/n, you’ve been doing some runs out west, what have you seen so far? Any kind of facilities or factories that might have potential?” Rick tossed you a smile with his question, a quiet reminder of what a true smile actually looked like.
Not a facade.
“Oh, I actually-”
“Well, yesterday, Y/n and I found some kind of grain processing facility. Might be worth checking out.” Spencer interrupted you. The eyes of the group seemed to breeze over that fact, questioning Spencer now instead of you.
Looking down at your shoes, you listened to the conversation slowly fade out of your ears with every new thought that popped up.
No one noticed. No one checked in.
Courage rose in your chest as you finally looked up at the group. No eyes on you.
None except Daryl’s.
The night crept in faster than anyone anticipated, stragglers leaving with every passing hour. Eventually, it was just Rick, Daryl, Deanna, and the two lovebirds.
“We could definitely use any resources we can get. I’d love to organize some kind of-”
You weren’t even listening to Rick and Deanna’s conversation at that point. The old log began to feel painful after hours of sitting. You shifted in your seat, briefly standing up to stretch your body.
Upon sitting back down, Spencer raised his hand-
You flinched. Flinched.
Ever so slightly, but Spencer continued his movement to brush hair out of your face. “Wasn’t gonna poke your face, honey. Might just have to now!” He laughs and pokes your nose, playing off the fact that you had just flinched away from him in front of practically everyone.
Well, the one person who mattered.
Daryl, who felt like he was consistently intruding on your relationship, noticed the flinch.
A flicker in the perfect pair. Just a small movement, really. Except that wasn’t normal. You weren’t one to break easily, weren’t one to become fearful.
You were resilient, brave, and one of the loudest people in the room. What is happening?
Daryl’s grip on the beer bottle began to tighten. His vision tunneled, as if nothing else mattered in that moment. Right now, he could only focus on you.
How your body was instinctively turned away from you. How you hadn’t looked at him since the flinch.
And how your hands began to shake.
Daryl felt a crack beneath his hand. Fuck
The bottle shattered in his grasp, the shards slicing his skin and leaving his hand dripping with blood. Instinctively, you rose to go grab your emergency kit. As if a force pulled you, it felt like this could be your break.
Then Spencer grabbed your wrist. “Damn Daryl, that looks bad. Y/n and I are probably going to head back home. Let us know if there’s anything we need to do.” He played it off, the arrogant asshole. His grip on your wrist was impossibly tight, a silent punishment for even thinking of leaving him.
Daryl let Rick and Deanna patch him up, but his eyes remained glued on you and Spencer.
The events of the campfire remained in Daryl’s mind, hanging over him like a dark cloud.
Spencer’s hand around your thigh, his close proximity, his affection, made his stomach churn in jealousy. Except now, that jealousy mixed with something else. A nasty cocktail that burned through his brain, filling his thoughts with worry.
That flinch.
Daryl ran over the memories he had with you. Because now, there was a different angle, a perspective that made his head spin with rage.
Every memory was tainted. That night on the porch, how you rushed home at the sound of a slamming door. The bruise he saw on that run to the gas station with you. And finally, the way you flinched from his hand coming up to brush hair out of your face.
Maybe she was telling the truth. That she was just a jumpy person, a clumsy woman who was eager to prove herself to everyone.
And yet. When Daryl was with you, you were courageous, strong, and goddamn intentional with everything you did. Hell, you could slash through any walker without a single thought. Nothing could make you flinch.
But Spencer did.
And the longer Daryl sat around thinking about it, the more his thoughts consumed him. He’d have to see for himself.
Daryl made it way outside to see an argument happening between Spencer and Rick. “No fucking way, man! I got things going for me here. I’m not fucking it up for some goddamn outsiders?” Several gasps echoed out from across the lawn.
Daryl observed the argument, but his eyes focused on only you. The new perspective wrecked him.
Not only was Spencer’s hand around your waist, but if you tried to move away, he’d only hold you tighter.
Rick sighed and looked at you. “Alright then, Y/n. What do you think? Spencer’s the only person here who hasn’t been on a run for a few weeks. Do you think we could borrow him?” Rick chuckled at the scenario of asking permission from Spencer’s fiancee.
Opening your mouth to talk, you almost let out a yelp as Spencer pinched your side, hard.
“She’s got nothing to do with this-”
“Actually, I think he should go. C’mon babe, you need a little time outside to spice things up!” Your smile pleaded innocence but Spencer could hear the venom coating the backend of your words.
And that is why, he pinched your side again, feeling the tiniest bit of satisfaction at your quiet whimper.
Daryl was fucking fuming. You were the most fascinating woman he’d ever met.
And yet Spencer couldn’t see it. Instead, he interrupted you and hurt you.
Rick kept pushing Spencer until he eventually gave in and decided to go on the run. Daryl walked back to his porch to observe the aftermath of the argument.
Maybe there was some kind of explanation, some reason for him to treat you like shit.
Although, Daryl knew there was no excuse. In some small part of his mind, he hoped that his inkling wasn’t correct.
The sun began to set, mere hours before Spencer was supposed to be leaving with Rick and a group to go investigate a facility nearby the community. The same Spencer that had a death grip on your hand as you walked back to your apartment with him.
A strike of impulsiveness hit Daryl in the chest, his voice calling you over before his mind registered. “Hey Y/n, come over here for a second.” Daryl watched your fiancee stare daggers into him.
At first, your movement stuttered, as if weighing the options in your mind. And then it happened.
You let go of Spencer’s hand.
Surprised wedged a dent into Spencer’s rage-filled exterior, making him reach out instinctively to grab you.
“Better make it fast, Dixon. Wanna spend some quality time with my girl before I deploy.” His smile was joyful, but the emotion didn’t quite reach his eyes this time.
Pride settled deep into Daryl when you took a seat next to him on his porch. Spencer made his way inside, surely heading to the kitchen counter to glance out the window at you.
Daryl shifted his body to block you from his view, already anticipating the moves of a man with no control over the woman he loves. Or loathes in this case.
“What did you need?” You etched a smile onto your face, the corners turning downward with every ounce of energy that left your body.
“He hurts ya, don’t he?” Even speaking those words had Daryl’s stomach dropping.
You chuckle and look past Daryl, staring into the kitchen window where Spencer was indeed watching you. “What? He would never. What is this a fucking interrogation?”
There it was, that tenacity that Daryl had been missing. Only, this time it was directed at him. You bounced your knee as your eyes met with Daryl again.
“S’that why you flinched?” You froze, eyes drifting to the floor. Your suffering was public, shown and humiliated in front of everyone. And Daryl noticed.
Of course he did.
“Daryl, you drop it right now. You hear me?” Chewing the inside of your cheeks, you took even slow breaths to calm down your rising panic.
“Because he loves you, right?” Daryl knew that you were aware of what he meant.
“I can’t do this right now.” You ran a hand through your hair and stood up from your seat. “Daryl please-”
You choked back a sob, taking a deep breath with closed eyes to push the tears back into your subconscious. “Please you have to promise me that you’ll drop it.” Daryl began shaking his head, and you placed a hand on his knee.
Normally, Daryl would be a blushing mess at this gesture. But his stomach and mind were in knots, taking in your pain and suffering tenfold as he truly understood your experience.
“He’ll-” You started.
“Please.” You begged him.
“Alright, dropped.” He grunted, watching you clean up your eyes and your composure.
“I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You couldn’t even muster a smile as you turned on your heel and jogged over to your apartment.
Hi!! I adore your writing, would it be possible to request reader being Maggie's best friend who was at the farm with them, and reader mentioning how she can 'see what she likes' about Glenn and him being a cutie, & Maggie in turn teasing her about liking a certain redneck and maybe Daryl overhears?
Crush - Daryl Dixon
pairing: Daryl Dixon × reader
a/n: first of all stopp thank you for the compliment you made my day, I loved writing this I hope you like it too!
word count: 1.5k
You'd know Hershel and his family since you were born, your own family had a place close to theirs – as close as it could be, and that was with yards of grass in between your homes. You made a routine of your mornings to wake up, shower and walk straight to the Greene's, at a point, you felt like they were more like your family than your own, so when everything went down and you ended up losing them, they Greene's held you like an anchor to your feet, helped to get it together again and welcomed you in as one of their own just like so many times before.
You sat on the porch enjoying the calmness of another night at the farm, things had been shaken since the new group arrived, you all felt a little on edge since they came in for help and made themselves comfortable in no time, the sheriff one posing like he owned the place deeply bothered you. "I don't know how I feel about them." You said "Daddy's scared they might turn against us as some point, and we wouldn't stand a chance." Maggie speaks on low tone.
Daryl wasn't far from you. As always, he was a little stepped away from everyone else, propped on the side wall of the farm house, smoking a cigarette and minding his business when he started to listen to the whispers and giggles, unsure if he should stay or not, he remained still, hidden by the thick darkness of the night, prying on what the pretty farmer's had to say about his group.
"Fears aside, you know damn well how you feel about one of them atleast, huh?" she nudges you with her elbow, smiling.
"Nah, you're the only one who's living an actual romance here. Daryl doesn't even look me in the face, it's just a little crush."
"He doesn't seem like he looks anyone in the face if that helps."
"Yeah." you sigh, glancing down to your lap "I actually think he only spoke straight t'me when I was bringing him food on the room after he stole your horse to look for that lil' girl. I even think he smiled at me, or tried to." you and Maggie laugh.
Daryl froze in place. Why were you talking about him? He felt childish at the way his heart skipped a beat over hearing that, cringing at himself. How couldn't he, thought? He knew you were pretty, he had eyes, for God's sake. And kind. Always kind to him and the others, specially Carl, he'd grown fond of you, in his own way, after seeing how easygoing you were with the kid, and after speaking to you in very rare occasions.
Daryl's boots dragged quietly through the grass as he circled around the house, antsy, cigarette long forgotten between his fingers. He told himself that it didn't matter, he shouldn't be hearing that, that he'd forget it, that he'd just head to the RV or maybe check on the bikes, sleep it off, something. Anything but face it. Before he knew it, Glenn was right there crouched beside a toolbox near Dale's camper, fiddling with some busted flashlight.
"Hey." Daryl grunted. Glenn looked up immediately, unable to hide his suprise. "Uh... hey?" Daryl shifted awkwardly, eyes darting anywhere but his face. Glenn waited patiently, eventually shaking his hands in a way that said 'spill it'.
"Gotta ask ya somethin'." Daryl finally blurted out. That alone made Glenn grin a little, responding with a curious. "Okay..." in motion for Daryl to keep going.
He hated how childish he felt. "That girl, Maggie's friend." he says your name embarrassed, in secrecy.
Glenn's smile widened instantly and Daryl nearly walked away right there, cheeks burning red. "Oh my God."
"Shut up." Daryl snapped quickly, pointing at him. "Ain't nothin' like that."
"Sure." his smile was still there, stamped wide on his face.
Daryl glared hard enough to kill the poor kid where he stood. Glenn lifted his hands defensively, still laughing under his breath before calming himself down enough to answer.
"What about her?"
Daryl rubbed a hand over the back of his neck roughly. "Heard her an' Maggie talkin'."
Glenn blinked once, then his expression shifted into something almost guilty.
That made Daryl narrow his eyes. "What?"
"Nothin'."
"What is it?"
Glenn hesitated only for a second before sighing, only acquiring a single look to make him break, it was common knowledge he wasn't the greatest example on keeping secrets. "She's mentioned you before."
Daryl felt his stomach twist strangely. "Mentioned what?"
Glenn stood up straighter now, clearly enjoying this way too much. "That she thought you were cute."
Daryl stared at him like he'd spoken another language. "Cute?" he repeated slowly, deeply offended by the word itself.
"Yeah." Glenn laughed softly. "And she said she'd like to get to know you better sometime, but you don't seem like you'd down for it so she was scared to try."
For a second Daryl's brain short circuited entirely, he felt the heat climbing up his neck so fast he prayed the darkness hid it. Glenn watched him carefully before snorting.
"You good?"
"I'm fine." he spits out, only playing tough.
"I'm just saying, man, you actually have a chance here."
Daryl scoffed hard, stepping back already. "Ain't nobody said nothin' 'bout chances."
"But you're smiling."
Daryl's expression dropped instantly.
"I ain't smilin'."
"You literally are."
He flips off, vanishing into the night before giving the younger man more space to tease him, leaving a giggly Glenn behind.
You were rinsing out a few dishes at the sink the next day after breakfast when the screen door creaked behind you. "Mags, can you peel the potatoes for me? I'm doing dishes of a battalion here, if you-" you cut yourself, embarrased, you expected Maggie, as usual, to be the one walking into the kitchen to help you out, but when you looked just slightly over your shoulder, there he stood, the archer, shifting awkwardly between his feet, unsure if he should've announced his arival to you.
"Oh." you blinked. "Hi."
"Sorry if I scared ya." he rubs the back of his neck.
"You didn't, don't worry, I was just... not expecting it, s'all." you dry your hands slowly on a towel, and you turned to face him, trying not to notice how strangely tense he looked, not that you'd ever seen him relaxed. Daryl tenses even more when he realizes he had your full attention, suddenly to self aware about the dirt and grime he collected in the woods earlier that same morning.
"What can I do for ya?" you ask, giving him a thin lipped polite smile.
"Y'uh..." he cleared his throat roughly, looking nowhere near you so the words could make it out of his mouth. "Y'ever hunted before?"
You frowned a little in confusion. Whatever you expected him to say, that wasn't amongst the options. "Hunted?"
"Yeah."
"I mean, yeah. A little bit when I was younger. My daddy tried to teach me once but I felt too much for the animals." you scoff "He used to call me a pussy f'that."
Daryl nodded, archiving in his brain another information about you. Apparently your father was a dick just like his. But he didn't insist on that topic, seemed to soon to go on about family matters.
"Would ya' maybe be interested on learning it now? I mean, circumstances changed. It's kinda... important." he struggled to find the last word. "I could teach ya." he stated finally.
You furrowed your eyebrows lightly. Was that an excuse to spend time with you? Sure sounded like it.
Daryl immediately looked irritated with himself after saying it out loud, shoulders tightening as he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. "I mean– if y'wanted." he muttered. "It's a good thing t'know.".
There was a brief silence, you looked up at him, considering his idea, corner of your mouth tugged upward before you could stop it, unable to hold your pinning comment before any response. "You offering to spend time with me, Dixon?" His ears burned red instantly. Cute.
"Ain't what I said."
You laughed softly, and Daryl swore it was one of the prettiest sounds he'd ever heard.
"I'd like that." you answered gently. "The hunting lessons, I mean."
Daryl finally looked at you then, blue eyes meeting yours for half a second before dropping again.
"A'right." he mumbled. "Tomorrow mornin' then."
You nod, gladly. "Deal." and before you could tease him any further, he was already halfway out the door again, disappearing quickly while you stood there smiling to yourself like an idiot. You had a date.
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