daryl with crossbow

2

Please? Part 30

1588 Words

Please? Masterlist


The days became significantly chiller as they go on. Daryl, luckily, found another house that was full of clothes the owners must have left behind. He went in alone, scavenging for anything you three could use, while you and Beth stood watch, you with his knife and her with hers.

You were thankful he grabbed you a fairly thick looking jacket, regardless if it may be for a man, because it was warm and you weren’t shivering at night like he seemed to be, with the pretty thin jacket he found for himself.

No matter what, Beth tries to see the good in things, even in the funeral home, even after she injured her foot on the bear trap whilst learning to use Daryl’s crossbow. She always has something nice to say, something beautiful to say.

You admire her for it, for keeping a straight head on her shoulders, yet also naïve. You hope she’s smart enough to know not everything in this world can be viewed as a good thing, that not everything is something good.

At the funeral home, the three of you try to set up a place for the night. With Beth’s hurt ankle, it was hard to move swiftly through the trees as you have been. Daryl notices little things around the building, like the fully stocked kitchen, the too clean floors and mirrors. Someone was living here, may still be.

“Just take some of it.” Daryl says as he pulls out a few jars of peanut butter. “Leave the rest.”

He hands you one of the jars, a spark brought back to his eyes. He smiles, trying his best to make up for what happened back at that house several days ago, the one you told him to burn down. You didn’t want to see it, or another like it, ever again. Burning that place down seemed to burn Daryl’s walls right back down, opening him up to this new and improved Daryl, yet those words cross your mind every night.

Cautiously, you take the jar of peanut butter from him and look up, gazing into those blue eyes of his. “If only they had bread.” You swift your gaze into the pantry and notice they had no bread, none that you could see.

“Here!” Beth calls and pulls out a loaf from over the fridge. She grins, holding it up as if she just caught a catfish for a trophy. “Let’s feast.”

After eating a few sandwiches, you and Beth wander around the home. She finds a piano and sits down, her fingers flying across the keys and playing a song for you, mostly for her, singing with her angel-like voice.

“I always wanted to play.” You say, sliding your fingers down the wood surface. “But I never got around to it…”

“I can teach you.” Beth says, her fingers still grazing across each key perfectly. “Not that hard…”

Shaking your head, you smile and look over at her, how happy she looks right now. “I’ll let you have your thing. Daryl has tracking game and you have the piano.”

“What do you have?” Beth asks quietly, but you don’t answer and she knows better than to say anything. She continues to sing.

Daryl lays himself in one of the caskets, closing his eyes and listening to the sounds of Beth’s voice, hitting high notes and low. She sings different songs, yet keeps them all happy and slow. You were never one for the slow songs, but this is all you have, you’ll take it over the deafening silence created when you and Daryl are in a room together.

“Y/N.” He calls gently after Beth decides to take a little break. She gets up and limps herself down the hall to find a bathroom, claiming she doesn’t want to squat in the trees one more time as she goes.

You raise your head from the music sheet you were trying to read, with no such luck, and decide to listen to him for once, instead of shooting him down and walking off. It’s getting old, annoying you a little more than it was annoying him.

He motions with his fingers. “There’s room.” He says calmly, scooting over to leave enough room for you. You don’t take up too much, and it doesn’t look much smaller than the bed you two shared back at the prison.

“I’m okay over here, Daryl.” You say in a low voice.

Beth will be upset if she overheard you say that. She hates this gap that has been dropped between you two. For a few days, she assumed it was all her fault, which it wasn’t. She has tried leaving you two alone as much as possible since that night.

Daryl lifts his head. “Please…?” He asks in an almost whisper. “Y/N, please.”

“There’s no point in trying if you don’t feel anything.” You sigh.

Daryl sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and bites down. You can see the wheels turning in his mind, though shows no sign of actually speaking. You stand up and head for the door. If he isn’t going to speak, you don’t want to be in here.

“Wait.” Daryl sits up, his head poking out from the casket. You slow down, stop, and turn to face him. “I ain’t never… been in love… I don’t know how that shit works, but I wanna know. I wanna make you happy. I know you’re who I wan’.”

“And how many more times are we going to fight? How many more times are we going to have this same conversation?” You cross your arms over your chest and listen out for Beth’s footsteps.

“None.” Daryl takes in a shaky breath. “None, I promise. Please…”

You let your arms drop as the sound of her feet hitting the floor. “I need some time, Daryl. Just… give me some time to think. I don’t want to be rushed. Please.”

***

A lovely dinner was planned out by Daryl. He found candles and lit them around the kitchen, setting them up almost perfectly around the table. He insisted on carrying not only Beth into the room, but you as well. He promised you this wasn’t a way to rush you, this was a just something nice he knew he could do for the both of you, his girls, he called you two.

“This okay?” He asks, dipping a spoon into the jar of peanut butter.

“This is amazing.” Beth giggles and looks around. He’s set out food, even put them on plates and set up silverware like he thought they may be set up at a real dinner table. He seems proud of himself as he serves the two of you fresh, clean glasses of water.

“Daryl…” you look around at all the candles. They make light dance against the spoons and forks, causing you to smile.

“It’s nothin’.” Daryl smiles to himself, trying to hide his face and the blush that had creeped up on him, spreading from his neck to his cheeks.

That dinner was interrupted. No one saw it coming. All those walkers lined up at the front door, the sides of the house. Daryl hollers for you and Beth to make a run for it, grab whatever was on the table, and dash.

That part was very successful. Beth had a bag in her hands, you had your knife and a gun found on a dead walker. There were only a few bullets inside it, so they had to count. No aimless shooting or anything.

Outside, Beth trips and she cries out in pain, the shriek enough to bust your eardrums. You try your best to pick her up, but she’s too heavy for you. In the panic, you spot a walker in the distance. Of course, one would show up at a time like this.

“Daryl!” You call out, trying your best to help Beth up off the floor. She cries harder each time she’s moved and eventually, you stop, panting with your palms against your knees. Daryl will be out in a second, he’ll be able to lift her up, to carry her through the trees with you on his tail.

You hear footsteps and assume Daryl is behind you. With a sigh of relief, you stand up and turn around, ready to throw your arms around him and kiss him. Your hero. He will always be your hero, he will always be there for you, always.

A man grabs you around the waist, holding your arms down. Not Daryl. You can’t scream because he has one hand over your mouth. Beth. She’ll scream.

As the man pulls you along with him, you glance over and you see Beth. She’s being carried by another tall figure, a figure you did not know. Nobody said anything, they were both quiet, holding you and Beth tight.

They throw you two in a car. All that runs through your mind was that you shouldn’t have agreed to stay at the funeral home, that you shouldn’t have iced Daryl out like you did, that you shouldn’t have agreed that the prison was a safe place to stay.

You feel the car start moving beneath you, driving off fast into the night, Beth crying beside you. You yank yourself away from the man with the grip on you and throw yourself against her, holding her close to you.

Daryl…

He’s back there. He’s fighting off a dozen walkers by himself, unknowingly losing his two girls…

Wild Horses (Daryl Dixon x Reader)

Originally posted by onlydarylnormanfic


Summary- Daryl and the Reader go out on a run.

Warnings- None, just fluff.

Word Count- 1032

A/N- Song that’s played it Wild Horses by The Rolling Stones.


The wind whipped through your hair as you gripped your arms around Daryl’s chest. The colors that make up the world blurred together as you rested your forehead against Daryl’s back. You both planned to just go on a quick run together, meant not only to find supplies but to get some time for peace and quiet. It was nice to have more than five minutes of interrupted time together. You took a deep breath, inhaling the scents all around you.

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Apologize [Rick Grimes x Reader]

Can you write a Rick x reader where the reader is best friends with Carl and she has the hugest crush on Rick and one day, when Rick gets mad at her she mumbles ‘Sorry daddy’ and Rick hears? Smut please? With daddy!kink?

Ask and ye shall receive, nonnie! I hope you enjoy! xx

Warnings: Choking, Daddy Kink, Smut, Language, Unprotected Sex (pls don’t do this)

Words: 2,739

A/N: I am so sorry I haven’t written anything in forever. But, HERE take some glorious filth to make up for it. Get ya holy water ready, you’re gonna need it. 

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