Author’s Note: Just wanted to dabble in TWD imagines. It’s a short little guy, but I’d like to write more! Please send in any requests! Thank you :)
Word Count: 709
The dead surrounded you. The smell of rotting flesh filled your nose and you felt like you were drowning, like you’d never taken a breath of fresh air in your life. Moaning and biting at the air, they shuffled forward, encircling you. They pressed closer and closer and closer, and you realized you had no weapons, no clothes, nothing.
You turned and saw more. They stretched as far as you could see, a herd of walkers so immense it blocked the landscape. You caught a glimpse of your bare feet on the road before the dead moved in. Rough, rotting flesh touched your body, clawed at you, tore into you.
“Help!” you tried to scream, but a walker was already on you, its jaw wide and filled with slaver and clamping onto your neck and wrenching its head back in a shower of blood.
Your body jerked as you woke. Before you could think, your hands were on your neck, feeling for a bite that you knew wouldn’t be there, couldn’t be there. Sweat covered your skin, turning cold in the chill air of the prison.
At your movements, the man in bed next to you sat up. “Wha’s goin’ on?” Even though he’d been sleeping only seconds before, Daryl’s eyes were awake and alert. His muscles were tense, ready for action. You saw him scan the cell, checking for threats. One hand was holding a knife, maybe the one you kept under the pillow, maybe the one he kept on the bedside table. He moved so quickly you hadn’t even seen him grab it.
“Nothing. It’s fine.” Your voice was ragged, like your vocal cords had actually been ripped out. The thought sent a shiver down your spine.
Daryl placed the knife back down on the nightstand. His arms wrapped around you hesitantly. There was strength in his hands, the backstory behind all those callouses, but he touched you like a boy in his first relationship, uncertain and afraid of rejection.
You rested your head on his chest. His heartbeat was loud in your ears. Solid. Steady. The exact opposite of your own heart, which was pounding wildly. Words spilled out of your mouth: “What are we gonna do when the prison falls, Daryl?”
His breath fluttered the hairs on the top of your head. “We’ll survive.”
“You’ll survive.”
“’M not gonna do it without ya.” He said it quietly, but that didn’t temper his ferocity. His grip on you tightened, comforting you as a weighted blanket would. The warmth of his skin, the rough feel of his hands, made your eyes flutter shut.
But the dead walked behind closed eyes. Your parents and Dale and Lori. Your friends from school, your neighbors, your coworkers. You forced your eyes back open, forced your ghosts to stay in the past.
“What if...” You didn’t want to say it. What if you die? What do I do without you? How can I do anything without you by my side?
“No.”
The walls felt brittle. Everything was uncertain; nothing was safe. Any second, it could all come crumbling down beneath a wave of the undead. “I can’t-”
“You can. We can.” He was convincing himself as much as you. “We will.”
You wanted to believe him. But every time you shut your eyes you saw his lifeless corpse being eaten. You wanted to cry.
“We jus’ need ta get through t’night.” His gruff voice broke through your thoughts like a sledgehammer. “Then we get through t’morrow.”
You let out a shaky breath. Daryl’s head rested on yours, and you were grateful he couldn’t see your wet cheeks. “How do you do it?”
Daryl was quiet for a few seconds. “Havin’ ya around makes it easier,” he finally mumbled.
With your heart warming at his words, you moved even closer to him. You were nearly on his lap as the both of you sat in bed, Daryl’s back pressed to the wall.
He seemed to want to say more, but the words wouldn’t come. He shut his mouth and held you.
“I can get through tonight.”
“I know ya can.” His lips whispered past your forehead, the lightest brush of a kiss you could imagine. “And ya can get through t’morrow too.”
Request: “How about something with the reader and Daryl sneaking glances at each other and he has to scoot by the reader in a tight spot and accidentally on purpose grazes her booty and her face turns red but she smiles? If ya want :D“
Word Count: 565
Warnings: none really, PG
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The run had been going pretty smoothly so far today, something that didn’t always happen. It’s supposed to be a quick in-and-out run, just grabbing a few basic essentials for 2 month old baby Judith. That’s why it was only you and Daryl, more people only meant more time spent.
You wandered cautiously through the abandoned daycare, dagger raised, prepared for a walker to appear, but none had yet. Daryl was on the other side of the small building, searching for anything useful, just like you. “Psst.” You hear, and turn around from the closet you had been peeking inside of. Daryl silently points to something ahead of him, so you head over to him. The hallway is very tight due to the debris and furniture that had been placed in it, probably as an attempt to keep walkers from getting in. The thought saddens you about what might’ve happened here, so you push it out of your head as you stand beside Daryl. “I can’t fit through here.” He whispers, his voice husky. You nod, doing your best to scoot past him in this particularly tight space. The close proximity makes you nervous, in a good and bad way. You like Daryl, how couldn’t you, he’s gorgeous.
Even with trying not to touch him too much, your ass still accidentally grazes his lower body as you scoot past him. You can feel your cheeks heat up as you finally get past him and through the corridor blocked by debris. You look behind you, about to ask for his flashlight, but he is already handing it to you. You nod at him as a silent thank you, noting how his face looks almost flustered, quickly turning back around to check out this last room.
You found a few things, but nothing too great, while Daryl kept watch outside of the room. You have to step on a brick that had fallen from the wall in order to get back through the tight space. Daryl places his crossbow over his shoulder hastily and offers you his hand. You take it, which sends chills down your arms at how strong and safe you felt just by him holding your hand. He carefully helps you squeeze back through the door, bringing you guys face to face.
You gulp, looking up at him in the near dark, both of you still and unsure how to react. He doesn’t push you away or try to move, he just looks back at you as intently, an unreadable expression on his face. You are the one that breaks the stare, handing him his flashlight back, your fingers grazing over his hand as he takes it, your head all fuzzy and flustered now as you try to turn around and head back to the more open area.
After you guys finally make your way out of the daycare, you feel relief as the sunlight hits your skin. Daryl hurries to load up his bike and rev it, awaiting you, whistling when he spots two walkers stumbling toward you guys. You hop onto the bike and wrap your arms around his waist, a feeling that you will never get used to or stop appreciating. He takes off and you lean your head on his back, wondering what that intense moment between the two of you could have meant, or what it could lead to...
---
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You watch as he places Judith back into her crib, tucking her in a little and stroking her head once more. He is a totally different guy right now, and you feel so lucky to be witnessing it. “Wish you’d call me sweetheart.” You tease, walking out of the cell with him following, a grunt escaping his lips, but you catch the small smile before it disappears. “Goodnight, Daryl.” You whisper, staring at his beautiful face in the moonlight.
“G’night, Y/N.” He mutters, staring right back at you. You slowly back away, despite wanting to stay with him forever, and head to your cell, glancing back at him one last time before disappearing inside....
-
* Takes place in season 4
Word Count: 1375
Warnings: Mentions of violence, angst
PG-13
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
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The next few days had been great, filled with late night talks and even a few kisses here and there when no one was around. Unfortunately, it all came to an end when the Governor came storming through your gates unexpectedly, tearing down everything your group had fought so hard to maintain. Your group was separated as everyone scattered to try to escape the crumbling prison, becoming flooded with walkers. It wasn’t salvageable, it felt like the world was ending all over again. You tried desperately to find everyone, but only found Maggie Bob and Sasha. You were running around, screaming for Daryl and Rick, searching for Judith and Carl, but you could not find anyone. The bus took off without a lot of the group, so you were forced to run out of there, nothing but one gun each.
The following days drug by, each one worse than before. You barely slept, unable to from fear and heartache. You were never going to see any of your loved ones again, it really felt like how it did when this all began. You just went along wherever the other three wanted to go, siding with Maggie when she thought that you should go to Terminus to try to meet up with the others. You and her would write on all of the signs, telling Glenn and Daryl to go to Terminus. You would be praying that you guys got lucky enough for them to come across these signs. You couldn’t bare the thought of never seeing any of them again.
You could almost see the light fading from Maggie’s eyes - she had become nothing but sorrow and anger - and who could blame her? You felt numb as you sat by the tiny fire Sasha made, staring absentmindedly as she checked on Bob’s shoulder once more. You were jealous, knowing that the two of them were going to end up together, and they would make a beautiful couple. It made you miss Daryl even more, wishing he was sitting beside you, holding your hand. You wouldn’t feel so scared, or hopeless. You feel your eyes burning as the tears build up for the hundredth time today, your chest tightening as you remember how different things were just a few weeks prior.
You were sleepless the night before the Governor attacked -thinking back, this was probably your gut knowing something bad was looming- so you went outside to get some air, like you often did on nights like this. You sat on one of of the benches and looked out at the stars. You hadn’t realized Daryl was on watch in the guard tower, seeing him now approaching you from the courtyard, his crossbow perched on his shoulder, right where it always was. “Why’re ya still up?” He questions, stopping a few steps away from where you sat. It was a nice night for this time of the year, not too cold, only a light breeze passing here and there.
“Can’t sleep.” You respond, pulling your sweater tighter around you, smiling subconsciously at him. You can’t help it, his presence alone lifts your mood.
“You smile a lot.” He remarks, leaning against the fence, looking at you crookedly. You smile even wider, wondering if he knew that he was the reason.
“Only around you.” You flirt, laughing lightly under your breath, looking up at him through low lids, still very tired. You catch his lips curve up into a small smile before he tries to mask it. He rolls his eyes and scoffs, not believing you, though he likes to hear it.
“Right.” He replies, not breaking eye contact. You move over on the bench and pat the seat beside you, feeling ballsy. He gives you a look, considering it, glancing around him, but ultimately accepting your offer and walking over to you, taking a seat beside you. You rest your elbow on your knee, cupping the side of your head in your hand and smiling at him tiredly. “Yer pretty drowsy.” He teases, a neutral look on his face, but you can tell that he is in a good mood. You giggle and he scoffs again, a real smile creeping up his face. “Look like yer drunk.” He continues, looking off on the courtyard. Your gaze follows his, looking out on the peaceful property. If the walkers weren’t down there trying to get in, it would be a perfect scene.
You look back to Daryl, feeling so appreciative of how lucky you had gotten in this messed up world. He catches you watching him, giving you a confused look. “What?” He questions, and you just shake your head, not really having anything to say. You lean over and give him a small kiss on the cheek, feeling him tense up a little, secretly making it your mission for him to stop tensing at physical contact. You pull away slowly, placing your head on his muscular shoulder and sighing in content as you feel his body relax.
“Y/N?” Your eyes shoot up from where they were staring at the fire, and you feel a tear stroll down your cheek. Maggie is staring into the fire the same way you just were, and Sasha is looking between the two of you, recognizing the look the both of you have. “We’re gonna be okay. It’s all gonna work out, somehow.” Bob tries to reassure, speaking aloud to all of you, feeling that all three of you women are losing hope. You nod sadly, wiping the tears from your eyes on the back of your hand quickly, tired of crying. You place your hand on top of Maggie’s, trying to comfort her. She smiles sadly at you and leans her head on your shoulder, reminding you of how you did to Daryl that night, the tightening in your chest returning. You just hope that he is alive, and not alone.
You know him well enough to know that he is beating himself up for what has happened, and you wish you were there to assure him that none of it was his fault. You squeeze Maggie’s hand a little, trying to comfort the both of you, blinking away the new tears forming. Your eyes wander up to the sky, looking at the faint glow of the stars in the cloudy sky, wondering if Daryl is looking at them too. Or any of the others - Glenn, Rick, Carl, Michonne. You miss everyone so much, you wish you could know if they made it out of there…
---
Daryl pokes at the skin of the snake he killed with one of his arrows, his thoughts in a million different places. Beth sits across from him at the small fire, eating her portion of the snake hesitantly, glancing up at Daryl here and there, wondering if she should say something. She decides against it, feeling that she’ll probably only upset him if she tries to comfort him about the prison. He continues absentmindedly poking the skin on the ground, thinking of Y/N, hoping that she made it out of there. He tried so hard to find her, he stayed as long as he could. The place was falling down before his eyes, towers crashing to the ground with the fences and parts of the building. He couldn’t find anyone, it was a horrible mess. He could only manage to get Beth out of there. Daryl was hoping that you were on the bus and had escaped, that you were with Rick and Carl. More than anything, he wished he was with you guys. He felt all alone again, like he was going to lose himself. Thankfully he had Beth, even if he wasn’t close to her, because he couldn’t bare to be all alone right now.
His eyes leave the guts of his kill, wandering up the trees and landing on the stars. He remembers the couple of nights that he spent outside talking to Y/N after everyone had gone to bed. A sigh escapes his lips as he feels heart aching again, missing all of people he had come to care for. He watches the sky, wondering if you were out there, and if he would ever see you again...
---
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Prompt: The others finding out that you are expecting
Word Count: 1262
Warnings: Violence, lots of angst
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Daryl was so nervous and distraught when he found out that you were pregnant. He would keep a close eye on you from that day forward. Anytime he saw you go to lift something, he would take it from your hands and do it himself. If he saw a walker and you were out with him, even if it was stuck or immobile or easy to kill, he would still shoot an arrow through it before it had any sort of chance to be near you. He never ever let you kill walkers, and when you did anyway and he saw, he would get angry.
Two days after discovering you were expecting, you were on a short run with him, Michonne, Glenn and Maggie. You had stopped by a few houses that you guys missed, checking and clearing them out, scavenging for supplies. Daryl trailed behind you, basically following you around, watching your back. Glenn had glanced back once or twice, taking notice of Daryl’s strange behavior, and you saw that he noticed, muttering to Maggie. You hadn’t told the group yet, dreading that as well. You mostly didn’t want Rick to hear - you don’t want him to think it was intentional, or to bring up the pain he just experience only a few short months ago with losing his wife in childbirth.
You shake those thoughts away from your head as you exit the building, and notice a strangling walker. Glancing behind you, you see that Daryl has gotten distracted momentarily speaking to Michonne, so you stride over to the slow walker growling at you as it tried to walk with its broken ankles, and jam your knife through its head, easily killing it. Daryl head the noise and became furious when he saw you pull your knife from the walker’s head. “Seriously, Y/N?!” He exclaims, throwing his hand up and scoffing, walking toward the truck and hopping in, slamming the door behind himself. You roll your eyes, not in the mood for his shit. You aren’t even showing yet, there is no reason you can’t kill one walker.
You turn and see three sets of eyes looking at you weirdly, and you sigh, realizing that thanks to Daryl, you’re gonna have to make an announcement when you get back to the prison. “I’m pregnant.” You mutter, looking down as you stride quickly over to the truck and climb into the backseat, shutting the door behind yourself. All three of them stare at you, then each other, worried and upset expressions clear in their faces, then follow after the two of you.
No one speaks on the way back to the prison, it is painfully quiet. You hurry out of the car as soon as you are inside of the gates and stomp off to your cell, mad at Daryl. He can be a real pain in the ass, sometimes. You know that he only had good intentions, but it still angered you that he was acting like this, already. Is this what you are going to have to deal with for the next nine months?
Rick ended up calling a meeting about an hour later, and everyone met in the courtyard to listen to what he had to say. He was talking about reinforcing the fences, placing traps in case the Governor came back, things of that nature. After he finished what he was saying, he asked if anyone had anything to add, and you saw Glenn and Michonne turn to look at you, clearly implying that you need to speak up. Rick noticed this and turned his own gaze toward you, then Daryl, who looked away. “Y/N?” He asks, shifting his weight and giving you a look as if he was trying to assure you that you could tell him.
You feel your cheeks heat up, knowing that everyone is looking at you as you stare at Rick’s feet, clearing your throat.
“I, uh. I’m…” You start, unsure if this is how you want to announce it. Rick shouldn’t have to deal with your problems, you feel so guilty.
“She’s pregnant.” Your’s, along with everyone else’s, eyes snap to Daryl, who is standing off to the side, arms crossed, looking at Rick. “I got her pregnant.” Daryl continues, then stomps off, leaving everyone bewildered. You feel your eyes burn and look down again, ashamed and embarrassed. You heard a gasp or two from behind you, and are shocked when you feel an arm around you, turning to see it is Maggie, who pulls you to lean your head on her shoulder as she rubs your arm, looking up at Rick. He is staring at you, shocked, upset, bewildered. He cares about you, you are a part of his family. And after what he just recently went through with Lori…
“Y/N…” Rick starts, gathering his thoughts. He takes a step toward you, squatting down and looking up into your watery eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Rick. I didn’t want this.” You mumble, unable to stop the tears from falling. He feels bad for you, confused as to why you are apologizing to him, and nods at you, taking a seat beside you and pulling you in for a hug.
“You got nothing to be sorry for, ya done nothing wrong.” He soothes, rubbing the back of your head and trying to comfort you, exchanging a look with Hershel, who looks worried and shocked. “We’re gonna take care of ya, okay?” He promises as he pulls away, looking deep into your eyes with that famous reassuring face that only Rick can make. You nod at him and sniffle, wiping your face as Hershel asks you to follow him to his cell so that he can take a look at you.
When you entered the cell-block alongside Hershel, you saw Daryl sitting on the stairs, his arms rested on his knees. “Ya okay?” He asks, standing up abruptly, jumping to conclusions. You nod, explaining that Hershel wanted to check on you and whatnot. He nods, chewing on his thumb and standing outside of his cell, watching as he takes your blood-pressure and asks you some questions to decipher how far along you are. He comes to the conclusion that you are likely 5-6 weeks along, and Daryl stands off the side, embarrassed about hearing Hershel ask the last time you guys were intimate and if he wore a condom. He gives you a small sad smile when you look up at him, trying not to let you know just how worried he is becoming. “You’re going to need pre-natals. We will need to gather more supplies, be ready this time. You are going to be just fine, Y/N.” Hershel assures you, turning to face Daryl. “You’ll need to keep a close eye on her once she begins the second trimester, keep the baby healthy as possible. I will train Maggie and Carol, we’ve got months to prepare.” He managed to make you feel a little better and you thanked him, heading back to your own cell, Daryl following along. “Need anythin?” He asks, and you shake your head, just wanting to lay down, the day has been too stressful for you. “Ima go on a run tomorra’, take Tyreese, some of the others. Start gettin supplies.” Daryl informs you, and you nod slowly.
“Be careful. I need you…” You mutter, feeling way too emotional for your own liking. He rubs your hand with his thumb, before placing a quick kiss on it and heading out to speak to Rick.
---
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Request: “Can I request a fluff prompt? The "Are you wearing my shirt" one with Daryl please. Like it's an accidental thing and the reader was in a hurry and just grabbed a shirt and went to do stuff and people give her weird looks/teases her and she doesn't realize until Daryl says that when she returns. Please and thank you ❤❤”
This is such a cute request! I hope you like it!
Word Count: 630
Warnings: none, solely fluff
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This morning when you woke up, you had a splitting headache. It was awful, any light or noise was killing your head. But you had chores to do and unfortunately, could not lay in bed all day hiding under your pillow. Therefore, you trudged out of the warm comfort of your rock-hard prison bed, threw on a random shirt and pair of pants without really paying attention to what you grabbed, not caring in the slightest about what you looked like, and headed outside to start your day.
The day drug on, every little thing bothering you. You figured that all of the strange looks you were getting were because of how miserable and awful you seemed. When Glenn smirked at you, one eye squeezed shut to block out the sun, asking “Rough night?” you thought nothing of it, assuming it was because of your bad mood, and nod at him exhaustedly.
“You have no idea.” You respond, not seeing the shocked face he makes as you continue with the crops. He meant because you are wearing Daryl’s faded grey T-shirt, and you looked horrible, thinking that you guys were up getting it on all night, and you basically just unknowingly confirmed his incorrect thoughts. He chuckles to himself and starts heading back to the fence to continue clearing away piles of walkers.
As the day goes on, you still have not spoken to Daryl, since he and some of the other men were busy taking out the walkers pushing against the fence. You happened to glance up when he was finishing, looking in your direction. He nods at you, and you nod back, a small smile on your face. “So… Have a good night?” Michonne asks, startling you.
“Huh?” You respond, standing up straight and wiping the dirt from your hands onto your pants. “Why does everyone keep asking about my night?” You continue, wondering what you are missing. Michonne starts laughing, and low and behold, Daryl has just made his way over. He stares at you oddly for a moment, and you throw your hands up in the air. “What?! Is there dirt on my face or something? What is up with all the weird questions today?!” You exclaim, exasperated with everyone’s weirdness. Michonne only laughs harder and Daryl even smirks, chuckling to himself.
“Don’t think it has anythin t’ do with ya announcin t’ everyone bout us?” He jokes, squinting at you sideways in the sunlight. Your jaw drops a little - Daryl just let Michonne know you guys are together!
“What? I didn’t! But you just did!” You exclaim, utterly confused about this entire situation. “What is so funny?!” You turn to Michonne, raising your voice and eyebrows, utterly confused. She can’t stop laughing, holding her chest, and Daryl laughs himself.
“Don’t think wearin my shirt is announcin t’ everyone?” He asks. Your eyes go wide as you slowly look down, and sure enough, you are wearing one of the shirts Daryl constantly wears.
You stare at it for a moment, then at Michonne, and finally shyly make eye contact with Daryl.
“Oops…” You mutter. Michonne catches her breath, patting you on the shoulder and walking away smiling, shaking her head. You just made her day. “Sorry.. I had a really bad migraine, so I didn’t even pay attention to what I put on! I’ll go change!” You ramble, afraid that you could have just accidentally pushed your boundaries with Daryl and scared him off. He only shakes his head, taking a few large strides over to you and wiping a little dirt off of your cheek.
“Nah. It looks better on ya.” He smirks, emitting a deep blush out of you as you nod and try to go back to your crop-work under his intense gaze.
---
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Prompt: You go on a run with Daryl and Rick, where you meet Jesus...who eventually ends up outing your relationship to the rest of the group.
A/N: I just love this fic, it’s so cutesy!!
Word Count: 2.1k | Setting: 6x10 | Warnings: Like one cuss word, guns
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You were going out on a run with Daryl and Rick, something that had become more common, as you liked to stick together with Daryl and he pretty much wouldn’t let you go on a run without him. Often times Michonne would tag along too, but she couldn’t this time.
The run was supposed to be relatively simple, just the three of you scavenging for some food. Eugene stopped you guys on your way out, leaning over the passenger window and handing Daryl a map.
“I mapped out some of the agricultural supply places in the area. Even if they’ve been cleared out, my bet is that the sorghum would be untouched. Now that there is a criminally underrated grain that could change the game with our food situation from scary to hunky-dunky...”
Rick and Daryl look between the map and Eugene, neither saying a word, exchanging a comical look of mutual confusion and exasperation. You bit your tongue to hold back your laughter. Something about the way Eugene talked was just always hilarious to you, and the looks on the guys’ faces was priceless.
Eugene stared into Daryl’s soul for a long, silent, awkward minute, before continuing: “I’m talking standability, drought tolerance, grain to stover ratio that is the envy of all corns.”
He looks into Daryl’s eyes with a very serious face. “Think about it.”
Of course he had to explain himself in the most complicated way he could and therefore left all three of you staring at him, dumbfounded.
After another uncomfortable moment, Daryl rasped, “Thanks,” and Rick began to pull away slowly. Once he had driven a few yards you started laughing, even catching Daryl smirking and shaking his head. You leaned up in between the two of them, resting your arms on their seats.
“This is nice. The three of us, like back at the farm,” you smile. Rick grins, nodding his head. Daryl doesn’t speak, but looks back at you with the corner of his mouth raised in a half smile of acknowledgement, briefly touching your hand before returning his attention out the window.
He doesn’t look stressed, he actually looks sort of at peace. It’s nice to see him like this. Things have been relatively calm at Alexandria, minus the food situation becoming increasingly worse. He reaches over Daryl and opens the dash, pulling out a CD, making you perk up in excitement as he places the CD into the radio.
You don’t get to hear music often - the car was one of the few places that you could hear it sometimes if there was a CD.
“Don’t,” Daryl says. “Don’t. Please, don’t,” he groans, being dramatic, trying to act like he doesn’t find you or Rick amusing at all.
The song starts and Rick begins snapping his fingers to the beat, smiling at Daryl. They act like such brothers, it’s really nice to see, especially knowing Daryl’s history with Merle. He shakes his head and looks over his shoulder at you. You grin widely at him and begin singing along, dramatically pointing at and serenading him. He rolls his eyes but you catch the corner of his lips raising in a small smile, that he desperately tries to hide, as he watches you enjoy yourself.
The day starts off really good, you guys found a big truck full of cans and water and food, it was too good to be true…
Daryl had stopped to raid a vending machine for soda for Denise - apparently she wanted it for Tara - which you thought was adorable on her part and sweet on Daryl’s for actually following through. One of the things you loved about this tough guy. As Daryl was about to bust it open after finally getting it flipped over, you are suddenly knocked over by a long haired guy ramming between you and Rick. You fell over top of the vending machine laying on its side and Rick caught himself, both men quickly whipping out their guns.
He stops a few feet away holding his hands up when he sees the gun aimed at his head. “Hi,” the guy mutters through a large exhale, out of breath.
“Back up! Now!” Daryl shouts aggressively, shuffling behind Rick over to you but never dropping his gun or removing his eyes from the man. He reaches his hand out to you and you take it, gathering yourself hastily and removing your handgun from its holster, watching their backs.
“Keep em up!” Rick warns the blonde guy. You take a few steps from their backs, observing your surroundings, making sure nobody was sneaking up on you guys.
“Whoa, easy guys. I was just running from the dead,” the man says, his hands still raised. His voice is calm and monotone, despite him being out of breath. He is wearing a tan bandana that is covering everything but his eyes.
“How many?” Rick asks, glaring at the man. Something in you is telling you that he’s not a threat.
“Ten, maybe more. I’m not risking it, once they get to double digits I start running,” he replies, still catching his breath but slowly dropping his gloved hands.
“Where?” Daryl growls.
“‘Bout a half mile back. They’re coming this way, probably have about… Eleven minutes?” the man responds cooly. You continue scanning around as the two sus him out, looking for any walkers or people trying to approach you guys.
There is a long pause as the men look at one another, before Rick finally says “Okay,” and lowers his gun, placing it back inside of its holster. “Thanks for letting us know.”
“Yeah...There’s more of them than us, right? Gotta stick together,” you lower your gun and move to stand beside Daryl, studying the man. His gaze falls on you and you don’t feel very threatened. You’d like to think you’re a pretty good judge of character, much like these two, and he didn’t seem like a bad guy.
“Right?” the guy asks, looking at Daryl, who still had his gun aimed at his face. You nudge Daryl, and he finally lowers his gun. You exhale in relief as the tension is mostly defused. “You have a camp?” the man asks, and Daryl glares at him deeper, before growling: “Nah,”
“Do you?” Rick questions, cocking his head to the side slightly.
The guy looks between the three of you for a moment then shakes his head, saying “No… Sorry for running into you,” the man apologizes, and you nod your head at him.
“No hard feelings,” you reply.
“I’m gonna go now... This is the next world, I hope it’s good to you guys,” he says, turning on his heels and beginning to walk away.
“I’m Rick. This is Daryl and Y/N. What’s your name?”
He stops in his tracks, turning back around and finally lowering the bandana that was covering most of his face.
“Paul Rovia,” he says, extending his arms out to the sides: “but my friends used to call me Jesus.” He has a hint of a playful smile on his lips, and a matching glimmer in his eyes.
“Your pick.” He continues.
Rick starts asking the guy about if he is on his own, and Daryl shakes his head, muttering “Not this guy,” as he turns to grab your forearm and tug you along gently, suddenly wanting you far from this guy.
You let Daryl guide you away to the vending machine to gather some more goodies for Tara and Denise. He hands you a coke just as Rick returns to the two of you. You hear loud bangs a few moments later and the three of you instantly pull out your guns, believing the sound to be gunshots.
You slowly creep around the side of the building, Rick taking the lead, signaling for you to stop with his hand. Then you see some firecrackers go off on a barrel and realize what just happened.
“Shit!” Rick exclaims and the two of them run ahead of you to the truck while you trail behind, watching their back.
You turn around in time to see the man - Paul - toss a backpack out of the window and holler “Sorry!”
The three of you stand there, staring defeatedly as he drove the truck away.
You guys ended up chasing the man and, after he stopped somewhere and there was a struggle, tied him up on the side of the road. You felt bad, he seemed like a good enough guy, despite stealing the truck. Daryl and Rick were heading back to the truck when you decided to give him your coke, setting it beside him. Rick had left him a knife a feet few away - he would be okay.
“Y/N!” Daryl calls out, waiting for you at the passenger door. You turn on your heels and hop into the truck, scootching over to the middle to make space for Daryl, who slams the door shut. Daryl puts the middle finger up in the mirror as he settles his feet on the dash and begins unwrapping an old chocolate bar, handing you and Rick thirds of it.
After a few minutes, you guys realized that the man had somehow gotten on the roof and that resulted in Daryl chasing the man around a field while Rick and you killed the wandering walkers. After a struggle between Daryl and Paul in the truck, one of them must have hit the gearshift, because the truck starting tumbling into the river.
“Daryl!” you scream, running after the truck that was heading right toward the river, and he jumps out just in time, however the man fell out and hit his head on a large rock, getting knocked unconscious.
You finally catch up to Daryl and let out a sigh of relief as he stands up. “You okay?” you ask him, grabbing his biceps and looking him over. He nods, out of breath. Rick joins you guys, frowning at the water where the truck was sinking. After a moment, you acknowledge the unconscious man on the ground.
“We can’t leave him,” Rick tells Daryl as he tries to do so. You give him a stern look and he shrugs his shoulders.
“He saved you,” Rick reminds him.
In the end, you guys ended up tying him up again and hauling him into the backseat of one of the cars.
You offered to sit in the back with him but Daryl refused, deciding to do so himself. You turned to watch in amusement as the unconscious man fell onto Daryl’s shoulder a few times and he shoved him away, clearly irritated.
For some reason you found it pleasing that Daryl doesn’t do that to you when you lean on him - although he’d never do exactly that, you’re just glad he doesn’t push you away. You lean your chin on your arms on the seat and smile back at him.
“What?” he rasps, clearly confused as to why you’re staring. “Oh, nothin...Cutie.” you smirk, turning back around and glancing at Rick who is smirking at the remark you made. You hear Daryl scoff in the back and your smirk only grows.
When you guys got to Alexandria, you left him in the hands of Denise. Rick left him a note that they will come get him from the room they locked him in in the morning with a glass of water and a cookie.
~
The thing with you and Daryl was… Rick knew, Michonne knew… But nobody else did. You guys had been very good at keeping your private life, private. Of course people suspected or knew of your feelings, but nobody else actually knew that you guys had made it official.
Until of course, Paul had to walk right into your bedroom while you and Daryl were sleeping, almost completely naked. He had been joining you in bed more often lately. He’s usually gone before everyone wakes up, being an early-riser and all, so he didn’t worry about what he was wearing, since he knew he’d be one of the first to get up - he didn’t expect to have to jump out of bed in the middle of the night.
You were woken immediately when Daryl jumped straight out of bed and grabbed his gun, aiming it at the man standing in the doorway. You were still half asleep so your reflexes were nowhere near on par with Daryl’s, just sitting there pulling up the sheets to cover your naked chest.
“Oh, um, I was trying to find Rick…” Paul says, keeping his hands up - and his eyes high. You shrink into the bed in embarrassment as he slowly leaves the room and takes a seat at the top of the stairs. You and Daryl quickly throw on some clothes and go to meet him in the hall to get Rick, worried he may wander off into the community or something.
Not thinking clearly in your tired state, you throw on a baggy t-shirt and your shorts and open the door, Daryl following you as he buckles his pants back up hastily. Expecting to only see Jesus in the hall, you are mortified to find Rick, Michonne, Glenn, Maggie, Abraham and Carl on the stairs, everyone holding or aiming guns at Paul.
Carl goes wide-eyed at seeing you and Daryl exit your room together, and you hide your face in your hand, embarrassed that this is how everyone found out. Daryl is clearly angry and starts hollering obscenities at Paul, and at Rick when he chimes in. You decide that you don’t care enough for this right now and head back into your bedroom, crawling under the sheets and hiding your face in the pillow.
After what felt like forever, but was probably more or less ten minutes, you heard the door open and close, and quiet footsteps approaching you. The bed dips and you feel comfort instantly, glad that Daryl has returned instead of going off on his own, embarrassed by everyone discovering your secret. You turn to face him as he gets under the covers carefully, clearly trying not to wake you.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, turning on his side to face you.
“Glad you came back,” you whisper, moving closer to him and resting your head on his shoulder, leaning into his chest, your arm snaking around his torso. He no longer stiffens whenever you do this, unless it’s in public.
You feel the arm you are laying on move to hold your lower back, rubbing it gently, soothing you to a sleepy state in just a few seconds, when you were just so restless.
“Rick… Handle him?” you ask quietly through a tired yawn. You feel Daryl nod as he rests his chin on your head.
“Sleep,” he mutters, his hand rubbing your arm soothingly, and you are unable to respond, too tired.
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Request: “Hi, angst prompt with Daryl? “I couldn’t save Merle, I couldn’t save Beth, hell I couldn’t even save that little girl back at the farm” “I can’t fucking imagine to lose you too’”
Word Count: 918
Warnings: Language, mentions of previous characters deaths, very angsty, fluff also
Masterlist
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Daryl has been extra weird over the course of the last few days. He will be extra clingy, but as soon as you try to talk he’ll shut you down and act like you are bothering him. It is so bizarre, and you cannot figure out why he is acting like this. Being on the road since Terminus has taken a toll on the group, sure, but it’s like Daryl has reverted back to the man he was when this all started. Shut off and quiet, acting like he doesn’t care about anyone.
You know that is isn’t true, because this entire time he has been trailing behind everyone, watching out for any danger. He hasn’t been drinking or eating, always giving up his portion to you or the others, and he is constantly heading out into the woods in search of water. You know that he is mourning Beth, you could tell that they grew close when they were alone. You weren’t jealous, because she was not only much much younger than him, but you knew Daryl well enough to know he would never cheat on you, even if you were separated, and he wouldn’t even be able to move on that fast.
You felt bad, when you saw him come out holding Beth’s limp body, you had always cared for the young girl. You felt the worst for Maggie, who shut off entirely after that day. You are glad that she still has Glenn, otherwise you don’t know what she would do…
You look behind you and spot Daryl looking around, somewhat far off from the group, crossbow in his hands as he keeps watch. There isn’t too much need for someone to specifically be on watch, considering how many of you there are and no one is sleeping, but you know it is his guilt and his emotions getting the better of him.
You stand up from where the group is gathered, resting before you continue walking to who knows where, and head over to Daryl. He hears you coming and turns his head to face you, a look you don’t recognize on his face as he looks away. “Can we talk?” You mutter once you are close enough. He doesn’t look at you for a moment, and you feel a pang in your chest as you await him to say or do anything. Finally, he nods, clearly knowing where this is going, because he starts to walk off into the woods, expecting you to follow him. The sun has not set entirely yet, so it isn’t too unsafe out here, especially as long as you are with Daryl.
After a minute or two, he turns, facing you, his crossbow slung over his shoulder. Neither of you speak for a moment, not quite sure what to say. “I know you lost something back there…” You mumble, kicking at the dirt bny your feet. “We all did.” You continue, not meeting his eye. “I just… wanted to see if I could do anything for ya…?” You ask, sheepishly looking up to see him staring at you, a dead look in his face. He seems emotionless, but you know that isn’t true. He is hurting, and he needs someone, if he’ll just let you in…
“I’m fine.” He mumbles, looking around.
“I know you Daryl… I know you need your space and time to heal but I’m only worried about you.” You explain, trying to make him understand that you love and care for him. He knows that you do, he is just pretending that he doesn’t. He doesn’t speak, and after a few moments pass, you sigh, turning to head back to the group.
“I couldn’t save her…” He mutters, startling you. You turn back around, looking at him hanging his head. “I couldn’t save her. Or Merle… Couldn’t save Hershell… Hell, I couldn’t save that little girl back at the farm.” With each word, his voice grows louder and he is basically hollering, his eyes watering as he waves his arm, sniffling and looking away from you. Your heart breaks at the sight, and you step closer to him, only making him take a step back. “I can’t protect no one!” He exclaims, laughing at himself as he hastily wipes away a tear before it can fall.
“Daryl…” You mutter, unsure of what to say to comfort him.
“Nah,” He says, pulling away and turning around, not wanting you to see him like this. Tears well up in your eyes as you watch this brave man fall apart in front of you. “I can’t fuckin imagine losin you too.” He mumbles once he turns back around, his sad eyes finally making contact with yours. You let out a sad gasp and walk over to him, ignoring him tense as you hug him tightly.
“You aren’t going to Daryl. You aren’t. You’ve kept me alive this long.” You try to reassure him, feeling him sulk under your arms and a small sob escape him as he holds you close, cherishing your comfort.
When you pull away, you wipe away the tears on his cheeks and kiss his hand, interlocking your fingers with him. “I love you. I’m not going anywhere.” You promise, feeling a little successful as he nods at you, accepting your words. “C’mon. You need to rest, you haven’t in days.” You say, leading him back to the road by his hand, which he doesn’t let go of for the rest of the night.
---
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Request: “Daryl request please. Daryl showing affection and like falling asleep on you. Cutesy stuff please.”
Word Count: 771
Warnings: None, solely fluff
Masterlist
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Ever since Daryl began sleeping with you in your cell, you have been unable to sleep well without him. If you guys are arguing, or he has a late night on the guard tower, or is on a multi-day run - you tend to be restless.
Unfortunately, these nights were not all that uncommon, and tonight was another one of them. Rick has reassigned and gotten more tight about having people in the guard tower at all times, ever since the Governor decided to try to take the prison, and ended up executing all of his people when they retreated. You agreed with him, as did Daryl, but you wish that someone else would feel inclined to take the late night shifts. You understand that nobody wants it, which is why Daryl tends to step up so often; but it sucks for the both of you. He’s up there, alone, bored - and you’re in bed, wide awake, awaiting his return.
The last time you glanced at your watch that sat on your make-shift bedside table, it was 2:20 am. Almost everyone was asleep by now, with the exception of Rick and Daryl, and you had recently seen Carol walk by. You toss onto your other side, facing the wall, staring at it. The moonlight is shining through the cell-block just enough to keep it from being pitch dark, other than the small candle lit outside of the cells, so that people can see where they’re walking. You can hear Glenn’s soft snoring from where you lay, that is how silent the room is. You also have a hard time sleeping in total silence.
An exasperated puff of air escapes your mouth as you turn onto your back once more. You twiddle your thumbs together, then duck them underneath the sheet after the cold air hits them. You just cannot sleep without him here.
You hide your eyes in the crook of your elbow, thinking that maybe if it is totally dark you will feel more sleepy. You desperately want to sleep - it has been a long day, but you just can’t.
Finally, you feel your heart skip a beat at the familiar sound of the gate of the cell block squeaking open. Whoever it is is trying to be quiet, otherwise it would have made much more noise and woken everyone from their slumber. You cross your fingers that it is Daryl, not Rick or Carol, and glance over at your watch again. 2:40. The curtain slides back, and you are greeted with the sight of your archer in the near darkness. You see him looking at you, and stop in his tracks. “You’re still up?” He questions, his voice husky and quiet. You nod tiredly, then wonder if he could even see you nod and respond “Yeah, waited up for you.” You whisper, watching as he stripes off his angel winged vest and his boots, placing them in the corner.
You scoot closer to the outside of the bed, making room for Daryl to lay down, and watch him carefully crawl in beside you. He doesn’t hesitate for a moment like he usually does, almost as if he is checking to make sure you still want him there. Instead, he just lays down, making himself comfortable on his side facing you. “Ya good?” He asks thickly, staring at you in the sheer moonlight. You nod again, finally feeling the tiredness taking you over, unable to give a proper response. You are shocked when Daryl scoots over a little, resting his head carefully on your belly, his hand over your hip.
You stare at the back of his head for a moment, stunned, and then smile, overjoyed with his affection. You place your hand on his head, slowly dragging your fingers through his messy unwashed hair. He sighs in contempt, listening to your heartbeat, enjoying the feeling of your hand in his hair. “I missed you… I don’t like sleeping without you..” You confess, yawning tiredly as you continue to stroke his hair. You don’t expect a response, you just want him to know how much you care.
“I missed ya up there too.” He mutters, catching you off guard again. He rarely says things like that, he’s much more of a ‘show you how I care’ guy, not a talker. You think that he must be really tired, and your smile grows, realizing just how content you are in this moment.
“Goodnight, Daryl.” You whisper, growing too tired to continue speaking, your eyes feeling weighted.
“G’night.” He mumbles, equally as tiredly, and drifts off to sleep in your arms.
---
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