Prompt: The former savior Justin makes a fatal mistake by pushing his luck with you.
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: Violence, cursing, suggestive comments, misogyny, typical TWD gore
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The day started off like most others. You were on watch this morning, having gotten up barely a couple of hours after Daryl came to bed. Your shift began at dawn, relieving the night crew. You remembered that Daryl was supposed to go out to the bridge today to help with construction, and to keep an eye on everyone in Rick’s absence. He had to go down to the Sanctuary today, so Daryl was covering for him overseeing the bridge.
You hated when he went to the Sanctuary, given all the horror that happened to him there, so you were glad that Rick was going today. However, the bridge construction wasn't a whole lot better. He'd still be surrounded by numerous former saviors, something you found very unsettling. So you typically tagged along, for your own peace of mind, to watch his back.
You left an apple on the bedside table and wrote a quick note beside it telling Daryl that you were on watch and that you’d see him in the afternoon. You hated not being able to see him much anymore - especially waking up together - but you each had a lot of responsibilities to manage.
Standing in the dim light, you lean over the bed to brush the hair out of Daryl’s face. You keep meaning to give him a little hair cut, just so that he could see better, but whenever you were able to see him it would completely slip your mind - too concerned with soaking up as much time with him as possible.
Your fingers brushed against his stubbly cheek ever so lightly, appreciating how peaceful he looked sleeping. He stirs a little, so you quickly try to retract your hand before you accidentally wake him up, but it’s too late - he catches your hand and places it back on his cheek. “Mmm?” He groans, one eye peeking open as his other hand comes up to snatch your free wrist, placing a tired openmouthed kiss on it.
“Sorry,” you whisper with a soft smile, rubbing your thumb over the back of his warm, rough hand.
“Where’re ya goin’?” Daryl questions, his deep voice so raspy that anyone else may have a hard time understanding what he said. You loved his sleepy voice, you found it adorable, sexy.
“I have first watch. Relieving the night shift," you remind him, leaning down so that you are squatting beside him at the bed. He rolls over onto his side, his hand still enveloping yours, and opens his other eye to get a good look at you.
“M’kay,” he mumbles. “Be careful,” Daryl says, his piercing blue eyes meeting your own. A shy smile crawls up your face and you nod in the darkness, moving closer and placing a kiss on his stubble covered cheek.
“I’ll see you at the bridge, hun,” you promise, moving to stand up, but he doesn’t release your hand, keeping you down at his level. He sleepily lifts his head and brings his other hand up to the back of your head. You instinctively meet him halfway, capturing his soft lips in a slow kiss.
His body heat radiates onto you, warming you up in a way only Daryl can. You pull away slowly, a frustrated whimper escaping your mouth as you lean your forehead on his. You miss him so much, you want to lay here beside him forever - but the sunlight beginning to creep through the window reminds you that duty calls.
You loved how Daryl would let his guard down and be more open when he was tired like this. He could be very affectionate in the mornings and nights, which was one of the only times that you go to see him anymore. You stand up from your spot and head out of the room, but not without one last glance at the love of your life.
~
Daryl’s morning was not off to a great start. He was exhausted from the night before, grumpy because he didn’t get to spend any time with you, and it was a cloudy and cold day. Everyone was getting on his nerves and he was practically counting down the minutes until he would be able to go back to Alexandria.
You hadn't arrived yet, and he was antsy about you being on the road without him. He knew you were with Carol and some of the others, coming to relieve some of the people working on the bridge, but he hated being apart from you inside of the walls, let alone outside of their safety.
One person in particular was seriously testing Daryl’s patience today - a savior, Justin. He had been giving everyone attitude from the moment they began working, and Daryl has just about had it.
Daryl was in the process of nailing down a board as Aaron talked to him about Gracie, just as he spotted you. He felt a weight literally lift off of his shoulders as you appeared in his vision. You hadn't spotted him yet, and he momentarily got distracted just watching you.
"-And the diaper just explodes, all over me." Aaron finishes his story.
"Good times," Daryl responds, taking a nail out of his mouth and getting back to hammering.
"You'll see," Aaron remarks.
Daryl shoots him a weird look, before glancing back to where you stood a handful of yards away, pulling your hair up into a ponytail and helping to lift a large board. You were wearing black khakis and a dark tank top, looking absolutely amazing in such a simple outfit. The thought of having a baby with you briefly crossed Daryl's mind, but he shut down the idea almost as quickly as it popped into his head.
"What? You'd be a great dad. Especially with Y/N..." Aaron trails off, teasing the archer.
"Yeah," he retorts sarcastically, dipping his head behind his hair and returning to hammering so that Aaron couldn't see the heat rising to his cheeks.
Aaron dropped it and they got back to focusing, which lasted all of a couple minutes until Daryl heard something stand out to him. Your name. In Justin’s mouth.
Daryl knew that Justin had tried hitting on you once before when you came to the bridge to help out, and he had given him a stern warning to stay away from you. Normally Daryl would have trusted you to handle the guy yourself, but seeing as he was a savior, and he was being very pushy toward you, Daryl had stepped in.
He stands up from where he was crouched, brushing the dirt off of his gloves and wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, listening in on the conversation Justin was having with some other savior.
“She’s a hot piece of ass. The things I’d do to her if that redneck asshole would let her out of his sight, I swear.” Justin remarks as he hammers at a nail unsuccessfully. The man beside him just scoffs.
“She’d never go for you, man," he responds.
“Sure she would. Just gotta get her alone.” Justin continues, a gross smirk on his face.
By this point, Aaron had taken notice and knew that shit was about to go down. The look on Daryl’s face was enough to warn the younger man that he needed to intervene, now.
"Hey! Back t' work! Stop chattin so damn much!" he growls as he shoves his way past Justin, abandoning Aaron to approach you.
You heard Daryl shout and immediately got distracted, almost wacking someone in the head with the board you were helping to carry. As soon as you and Rosita place it down, you search for Daryl, only to find him heading right over to you.
"Hey, you okay?" you ask, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand.
"Yeah, that prick over there pissin me off again," he grumbles, wiping some dirt off of your shirt for you. You smile softly, appreciating the gesture.
"Don't let him bother you, babe," you start. "Your only giving him the attention he wants."
Daryl grumbles in response. "Hi Y/N, hi Daryl," Henry greets you guys as he approaches with the large jug of water. "Need a drink?" he asks. Daryl motions to you and you open your mouth to fight him, but he shoots you a look, so you accept and take a very small cup of water from the boy.
"Thank you, Henry." You hand the cup to Daryl and give him the same look. He knows better than to argue with you and he was very thirsty anyway, so he pours himself a small cup too.
Henry then moves on and you let Daryl head off to grab another large plank with Gabriel. All is well for approximately three minutes, until...
You hear commotion and turn around to see that Justin has shoved Henry onto the ground and is now downing a bunch of water straight from the jug directly into his mouth. You immediately abandon your work and make your way toward Henry, but before you can get to the prick to handle business yourself, Henry has stood back up and knocks him clean off his feet with his staff.
You finally reached the two and just as the asshole is scrambling back onto his feet and some other former saviors are laughing at him, you place yourself between the man and the child.
"You better fucking not," you warn as he looks over your shoulder toward the boy who was hurrying to gather the water jug and get back to work.
"You see that shit?" Justin shouts, shuffling his body like he wants to go after Henry.
"Yeah I saw you bullying a child and him stand up for himself, just like he should," you retort.
Justin's eyes squint at you in shock and disbelief.
"Whatever! I let him do that. Better not get a big damn ego now!" he shouts dramatically.
"Yeah okay why don't ya get back to work," you roll your eyes and turn to walk away.
"Hey, hold up now. I finally gotcha away from the redneck," he grabs your shoulder and positions himself in your way.
"'scuse me?" you all but growl.
"Oh come on now, you know how long it's been since I seen a pretty face like yours?" he attempts to flirt with a gross smirk. "Take it as a compliment, sweetheart. Like you don't walk around in those tight little pants hoping every guy here is looking at you," he continues, and you move to walk away from him, but he follows you.
"I mean why else would you be here anyway? Not like a woman can be much help buildin a bridge," he blabbers on. You spot Daryl and instantly start walking toward him. The dumbass hasn't spotted Daryl and continues trailing you. "Hey, hold up! You think you're too good for me bitch?!" he grabs onto your shoulder, and before he has the chance to do anything else, Daryl literally tackles him to the ground like a football player, knocking the wind out of him and banging his skull against the ground.
Daryl gets two good swings in before you grab his shoulder to pull him off. He resists until you call out his name, wrapping your hand tightly around his raised fist. "Daryl!" you shout again, and he finally takes pause. Justin lies limp on the ground underneath Daryl. He grabs him harshly by the collar before saying: "Ya come near her again.. I'll beat yer ass into the ground," Daryl growls viciously before slamming him down as Rick shows up and gets an arm around him before he is able to decides to continue beating the prick to death.
He tries to scramble up as fast as he can as Rick and Aaron struggle to keep between him and Daryl. "Hey! Ya hear that shit! Huh?" Justin shouts and points over Rick's shoulder, trying to rile Daryl up some more.
"Enough!" Rick shouts, but Daryl doesn't stop pacing and stalking back and forth as he glares. Justin stupidly starts talking smack again.
"Unbelievable! Tried to kill me over nothin!" Justin tries to get people on his side. "Fuckin redneck asshole!" he shouts around Rick's shoulder. Before he can get any other insults out at Daryl, you reach up and punch him in the nose. Your hand immediately aches and you grab it instinctually, cursing out in pain. In your distraction, Justin grabs a hold of your shirt and suddenly you are in the middle of no less than four grown men pulling at you. Justin holds onto your shirt for dear life, as if keeping a grip on you will somehow prevent him from getting his ass kicked anymore.
Daryl is literally jumping over Rick to get to you as Rick tries to peel Justin off of you while keeping himself positioned between the two men, and Aaron tries to help hold Daryl back. By now a huge crowd has formed and everyone is egging each other on. "Enough!" Rick shouts again as he finally releases you from Justin's grip. "I said enough!" He hollers viciously as Daryl continues shoving his way through the men.
"Daryl!" you shout, finally halting him. He takes pause and notices your stretched out shirt hanging down low on your chest. He grabs your wrist, glancing at your knuckles and then peels his vest off of his back and swiftly pulls it over your shoulders, buttoning it in the front for you to cover you up a little better.
"Everyone get back to work! Now!" Rick hollers, guiding you and Daryl away from the crowd. "What the hell was that?!" he growls under his breath once you guys are far enough away.
"That asshole had it coming! This was neva gonna work Rick! Ya hear the shit he was sayin? He put his fuckin hands on 'er!" Daryl begins shouting again.
"Hey, hey!" Rick puts his hand up and you take Daryl's bicep. "You trying to kill the guy in front of everyone solves nothing, Daryl. You just stirred everything up!" He scolds.
"I'on care! He had it comin!" Daryl huffs.
"And you," Rick turns to you. "Not any better. Are you guys trying to make sure this doesn't work?" he scolds you guys like children.
"Hey," Daryl glares at Rick, pointing at him. "Leave 'er outta it. That prick should die for touchin 'er." Daryl warns Rick, who raises a brow at his friend. Rick puts his left hand up and his right on his hip, tilting his head and huffing.
"Daryl," he starts, trying to deescalate. "Alright, why don't you two go work on the logs, huh? Go cool off..." Rick sighs like a disappointed parent. Daryl wastes no time in grabbing your arm and quickly but gently leading you away to grab your stuff and head off to work on the logs.
Once you're out of earshot, outside of the cabin, Daryl stops and turns to face you. "Ya okay?" he asks, looking you up and down. You chuckle at his worry.
"I'm fine. Just stretched out my shirt," you respond, glancing down at your chest, which is covered by Daryl's vest.
"I'll getcha some new shirts. Go on a run tomorrow," Daryl mutters, grabbing your hand and inspecting your knuckles. "Shouldn't have hit him, don't want ya gettin' hurt," he continues, rubbing your knuckles with his calloused thumb.
"Asshole had it coming," you respond with a shrug. Daryl chuckles lightly and grins proudly.
"That's m' girl," he touches your chin. "Ya should head back for the day."
"Hell no. I just got here. I'm not leaving 'cuz of him," you state firmly. Daryl looks at you for a long moment, nibbling on his bottom lip before nodding in agreement.
"A'right, but stay with me," he starts leading the way toward the area of the woods where they are taking down trees for the bridge.
~
The rest of the day is pretty uneventful. You and Daryl spent a few hours helping with the logs, loading them up onto the trucks and whatnot. By the time the sun had gone down, your whole body was on fire. You'd definitely be feeling it in the morning.
You hadn't seen Justin since the incident in the afternoon, and you kept near Daryl for the most part, like he asked. The two of you were heading back through the woods, past the cabin and campsite, right when he happened to come out. Rick and Carol were right there talking to one another, and Rick made stern eye contact with Daryl from where he stood a few yards away. Daryl stood on your left as you continued to walk, his body shielding you from Justin.
The two men made intense eye contact as they passed one another, but neither spoke. Just when you thought you were in the clear... You hear: "Better keep your dog on a tighter leash!" Both you and Daryl whip around and spot Justin shouting at Rick as he is slowly walking away. "Damn near killed me for nothin," he continues stupidly.
You grab onto Daryl's bicep and Rick is instantly approaching Justin, his glare on Daryl, anticipating another fight - which seems to be exactly what the savior wants.
"Daryl don't," you try to stop him but he shrugs out of your grasp and strides over.
"Daryl," Rick warns, and Justin puffs his chest, anticipating his attack. Instead, Daryl stops two yards away from where Rick was standing near Justin.
"Listen up. Real good." Daryl points a finger at Justin. "Ya come near her again. Touch her. Talk to her. Hell. Ya look at her sideways," Daryl continues in a calm but dangerous tone. "Stitches won't fix what I do t' ya." It's not a threat, it's a promise. You cautiously take Daryl's bicep again, tugging him lightly to get him to back off, and when neither Justin nor Rick say anything, Daryl allows you to guide him away.
"I love you," you mutter up at Daryl once you are plenty out of earshot, taking his hand and interlocking your fingers as he leads the way toward the awaiting horses and other members of Alexandria to head home for the night. He squeezes your hand and smiles softly in return, silently saying it back.
Grump/Sunshine. Finally friends to lovers. Swearing? Mutual pining. Smut! NSFW. Minors beware. Hope it doesn’t feel rushed. Was tired of dragging it out. I’m supposed to be on a writing break this summer! @laz-110 @antheia-of-narnia @clussysposts @qwikmart @chuuyas-world @tuesday469 and everyone else who took the time to comment and hype me up! Thank you from the bottom of my heart. ❤️ I hope you enjoy this last part, and as long as I’m breathing there will always be more Daryl fics to come! Enjoy!
It took a few days to get settled into Alexandria.
The majority of you were worn thin and practically starving, but the walls, the houses, the hot showers—everyone seemed to breathe a little easier with every passing hour.
Carol was already baking casseroles like she’d been waiting her whole life for it. Rick walked the streets with something almost like hope softening the hard lines of his face. Maggie and Glenn stole quiet moments. Even Carl smiled more, chasing Judith through grass that didn’t hide half eaten walkers.
Everyone was falling back into the rhythm of the old world.
Everyone except the grumpy archer.
Daryl moved along the edges like a shadow that didn’t belong—sleeping on the porch like a stray dog, slipping out of the gates for long hours, coming back with scrapes and supplies he’d found alone the way.
He never stayed long enough to settle.
The large extravagant houses and white picket fences made his skin crawl. The polite smiles from strangers, the endless talk about shit that didn’t matter anymore—it felt like teeth waiting to bite. This place was too perfect. The people too naïve. Like a dream right before it turned into a nightmare.
The moment you stepped through the gates you threw yourself into helping—sorting supplies at the pantry, pulling weeds in the garden. Anything to prove you belonged here, to earn the safety you’d been handed, but your eyes still found his across the well kept lawns, shoulders tight, crossbow never far from reach.
The distance between you had grown again. Not cruel like before—not even intentionally—just the quiet kind of space that came from life pulling people in different directions. You still stopped to check on him when he huffed past, still brought him blankets when he curled up in the dark corner of the porch late at night.
You still cared about him.
You still…, loved him.
By the end of the first week you were lost in the mundane task of carrying a basket of laundry back toward the house, unable to wrap your head around literally fighting for your life just days ago.
You spotted Daryl barreling toward the front gates, back rigid—looking like he could barely outrun whatever was chasing him.
“Open ‘em up!” He barked to the guards, lifting his arm in the air to hurry them along. Metal groaned as he stormed past the walls, ducking into the thick brush without looking back. You set the basket down on the porch and followed him out, slipping past the guards with a soft smile.
Daryl hadn’t gone far.
Just beyond the tree line, in a small clearing where the late afternoon sun filtered through the leaves in soft gold. He sat with his back against a wide oak, knees drawn up, forearms resting on them as he stared out into the quiet nothing.
You approached him slowly, making sure he wasn’t going to chase you away then lowered yourself to the ground beside him, close enough that your shoulders touched.
Daryl glanced over, eyes falling to the dirt already clinging to your jeans. “You’re gonna get dirty out here.” He muttered, voice quiet but a little rough around the edges. You smiled sweetly, leaning your shoulder more firmly against his. “I’ve been dirty before.”
A small huff escaped him—almost a laugh, almost nothing. For a long moment neither of you spoke. Just the wind moving through the leaves overhead, soft and steady.
“You belong in there,” He finally murmured. His gaze staying on the trees ahead. “Houses. People. All the normal shit from before.”
You stayed quiet for a beat, savoring his warmth through his sleeve. Shoulder to shoulder. No pressure. Just presence.
“So do you, Daryl.” You answered. The words came easy, calm and honest—but it only made him laugh bitterly.
“Never had nothin’ normal before this. Never been a part of somethin’ good.”
You frowned at the thought.
“…you’re a part of us. A part of me.”
The words settled heavy between you.
Daryl went still.
Not completely—his chest still rose and fell, his thumb still scraped absently over the fletching of a bolt—but something in him quieted. You felt the subtle shift of his breathing, the way his shoulder stayed pressed against yours like he needed the anchor.
Nobody had ever said something like that to him before. He spent most of his life feeling useful when he was needed and easy to leave behind when he wasn’t.
But you said it so simply.
Like it was fact.
Like there wasn’t a world where you existed without him in it.
His jaw tightened, molars grinding as he fought through the emotion coiling in his chest.
“Jus’ makes me feel closed up,” He muttered eventually, voice barely above the breeze. “Like I can’t breathe right in there.”
He stayed silent after that, but the tension in his frame eased a fraction. You sat together for a while longer—shoulders touching, breaths syncing.
“There’s nothing wrong with that—but it doesn’t mean you don’t belong there.”
He didn’t need reassurance, just someone to sit with him in the quiet.
Eventually you stood, brushing grass from your hands. “I should go put that laundry away before Carol finds it. Nobody wants to get on Mrs. Roger’s bad side.”
Daryl watched you, blue eyes steady but unreadable, coughing to hide his laugh.
You gave him a small, gentle smile.
“Stay out here as long as you need Daryl,” You murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Just make sure you come home, okay?”
He didn’t answer.
Just watched you walk back toward Alexandria until the trees swallowed you up.
He sat there long after you disappeared, letting the woods settle back into silence around him. A bird called somewhere deeper in the trees. Wind stirred the branches overhead. The same sounds he’d spent most of his life listening to.
Usually it helped calm his nerves.
Today it didn’t.
Daryl scrubbed a hand over his face and stared at the patch of woods where you’d vanished.
Just make sure you come home, okay?
Home.
The word sat wrong in his chest.
For a long time, home had been nothing.
A broken house with holes in the walls.
A father who drank.
A brother who left.
Then it was the road.
The prison.
The woods.
Whatever shelter managed to keep the rain off his back for one more night. None of those places had ever felt like home.
Alexandria didn’t feel like home, but you did.
~
Daryl slipped away from Aaron’s early. The food, the warmth, the walls pressing in—it all felt too tight inside his house. He wandered the quiet streets with his hands shoved in his pockets, vest clinging like armor, boots heavy on the too-clean pavement.
The familiar desire to run crawled under his skin.
Then he saw you.
Standing on the porch of your borrowed home, trying to force yourself to go to Deanna’s welcome party instead of search for the archer that had just been dropped into your lap like Christmas morning.
You turned your head at the sound of his steps, the soft smile that lit your face hitting him square in the chest. The sight of you standing there like something he didn’t deserve but couldn’t stay away from—it undid him.
He closed the space in long, purposeful strides, climbing the porch steps two at a time, not stopping until he was right in front of you. “Daryl—“ He didn’t give you words, wasn’t never good with ‘em—just slid his hands into your hair, cradling the back of your head as he pulled you into a deep, desperate kiss.
It wasn’t gentle. It was months of want, of almosts, of fear and need crashing together. His mouth claimed yours, tongue stroking deep, slow and hungry all at once. You gasped into it, fingers fisting in his shirt as he backed you against the porch rail, body pressing flush to yours.
When he finally pulled back just enough to breathe, his forehead rested against yours, voice low and ragged. “You’re my home,” He murmured, thumb brushing your cheek. “Ain’t this place. Ain’t these people. It’s you.”
Then he was kissing you again, deeper—hotter, hands sliding down your sides, gripping your hips to bring you closer. You whimpered softly, arching into him, and that was all it took.
One second you were completely lost in his kiss on the quiet front porch, the next he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his hips as he carried you inside the house and up the stairs to the bedroom you’d claimed.
The door clicked shut behind him as he laid you down on the bed like you were something precious, even with his hands shaking with how badly he needed you.
“If…,” He tried to clear the emotion from his voice—blue eyes meeting yours as you looked up at him like he was all you’ve ever wanted. “…if ya don’t want this ya better tell me now, cause I ain’t—“
“Daryl,” You whispered, reaching for him. “I want this.”
Clothes came off in a heated rush—his vest hitting the floor, your dress pooling beside the pillows, his shirt yanked over his head. He hovered over you, eyes dark and burning as he took in every inch of bare skin.
“Been wantin’ this… wantin’ you,” He rasped, mouth trailing hot kisses down your throat, across your collarbone, then lower. “…for a long damn time.”
His calloused hands mapped your body—cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing the sensitive peaks until you moaned his name. He groaned at the sound, mouth following where his hands had been, sucking and biting until you were writhing beneath him.
You tugged at his belt desperately as he helped you shove his jeans down, kicking them away. Skin to skin at last, he settled between your thighs, his hard length pressing against your heat, kissing you again—slow and deep this time as he pushed inside you in one smooth thrust, burying himself to the hilt. The stretch, the fullness, the raw emotion in his eyes as he held still inside you—it stole your breath.
You gasped his name, nails digging into his shoulders as he started moving, deep and desperate strokes that built fast and intense. Every thrust pulled broken moans from both of you, bodies moving together like you’d been made for each other. One rough hand gripped your thigh, hitching it higher around his waist so he could drive deeper—harder, grinding against that perfect spot inside you until your back arched off the bed.
“Oh god…”
Daryl’s whispered curses mixed with your name detonated something primal inside of you, burying your face against his neck as your pleasure coiled tighter until you shattered around him with a broken sob.
He followed moments later, hips stuttering as he came hard, groaning quiet against your temple, forehead pressing into your hair as pleasure shook through him. He stayed buried deep, collapsing half on top of you, breathing hard against your throat. Your fingers slid into his sweat-soaked hair, threading through the damp strands while you kissed him again—slow, trembling, like you were terrified he’d slip away the second the haze cleared.
Daryl pulled back just enough to see the tears shining in your eyes, panic flashing across his face.
“Did I hurt ya?” His voice was rough, worried, thumb already brushing at the corner of your eye.
You shook your head, pulling him back down into another kiss, softer this time but no less desperate. He pulled back again, whispering your name as you brought your foreheads together, bodies still joined, his weight a solid, grounding presence. “I’m just… scared you’ll disappear on me again.” You whispered with a shaky breath.
Daryl stayed quiet for a long moment, breathing warm against your lips. His hand came up to cup the side of your face, calloused thumb stroking against your cheek.
“Ain’t runnin’ no more,” He promised, voice low and steady. “Not from you. Not from this.”
You forced a smile, nodding as he kissed you once more, then settled beside you, pulling you tight against his chest. His fingers traced lazy circles along your spine as your breathing evened out together in the quiet room.
You laid your head against his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. For the first time in a long time, you both let the silence feel like peace instead of dread.
Daryl tightened his arm around you and pressed a kiss into your hair.
Then he closed his eyes.
Because beside you he was home—and he’d finally found somewhere soft to land.
