What If A Drabble About This Https://twitter.com/bxnksi_/status/1754954693329998141?t=QfzPSplktYI04Owlt-gzSg&s=19

What if a drabble about this https://twitter.com/bxnksi_/status/1754954693329998141?t=QfzPSplktYI04Owlt-gzSg&s=19 I just know hotch's gonna be taking that kiss IMMEDIATELY like no thoughts. He'll be like, "screw my point and kiss me".

priorities

this cw; bau!reader, established relationship, kissing, light suggestion, brief arguing into fluff, 6x22 references - this relates to aaron coaching jack's soccer team <3

the team's prying eyes couldn't help but be directed upwards as they attempted to work, due to the visual of you and aaron going at it through his office window. your hurried and raising voice also drifted out his slightly ajar door from time to time.

"it's not fair to you aaron." you insisted, mentally urging him to stop being so stubborn and understand your point. "i get that they need a coach, and it's wonderful they thought of you, but you're too preoccupied."

aaron scoffed lightly, crossing his arms as he leaned back against his desk, "preoccupied?"

you gave him a look - c'mon. it was a rather accusatory word, you'd admit it, but he knew what you meant. "the league should be resolving their own problems."

"isn't them asking an attempt to do so?"

"but it's not your problem, or is it your responsibility to accept. i know you feel obligated to and," you reached out to touch his arm affectionately, reminding him you were on his side. "it's so sweet of you to jump at it. but please think about it realistically."

aaron exhaled a breath of his own, turning his eyes away from yours in a subtle eye roll.

"aaron," you gaped at him, your frustration quickly turning into annoyance. "you're in the fbi. you're a unit chief, for god's sake. don't you think they should ask someone who's not on such a strict, unpredictable schedule? what happens when you can't make it to a practice? to a game?"

as you fired off all the reasonings, even throwing in the example that jessica did swing by once to pick up jack upon getting a call for a case - aaron fell quiet, knowing you were right.

he felt obligated; being unreservedly himself, he wanted to be the one to step up and take the initiative. jack's soccer team deserved someone willing and wanting to provide their undivided attention as coach, given majority of the parents were more preoccupied by their phones than watching their own kid. focus - he could provide such.

another convincing factor, being coach would provide him more time with jack. these days, the fact jack was growing up, rapidly, was slowly sinking in. before he knew it, aaron would blink and jack would prefer to do anything else than to hang around his father.

but again, from a realistic standpoint, you were right. trying to navigate a soccer team with his crazy schedule would be extremely difficult; the potential aspect of not being around, and then potentially not being able to find reliable cover - an inevitable, ongoing complication, despite how badly he wished he could manage it.

aaron hadn't meant for this to turn into a disagreement either. to be fair, he had just returned from a meeting with strauss, which always amp'ed up his disposition in one way or another.

but now you were getting heated, and as you thoroughly stated your case, aaron's eyes involuntarily kept flicking down to your lips. the more he attempted to avert his eyes away, they only lingered more.

and not wanting to argue further, he quickly surrendered to his own argument, the only thought beginning to maintain importance was how badly he wanted - no, needed - to kiss you.

"go ahead, say it."

your remark regained his attention, "say what?"

"i know that look, so go ahead." you crossed your arms, huffing a frustrated breath of air out of your nose. you had mistaken his lack of focus for another impending, contrasting detail of his, "say it."

"kiss me."

your expression changed at once; irritation shifting to a softened confusion. "what?"

"what? do you want me to beg?" aaron tossed out, a glint surfacing in his eyes and warming you from the middle out, "fine, you're right, forget about it. now kiss me."

you opened your mouth to respond, but aaron took that as an opportunity to weave his fingers through the belt loops of your pants, pulling you strictly against him and pressing his lips to yours.

once your initial surprise wore off, and focusing on how soft aaron's lips felt on yours, you kissed him in return with just an equal amount of gentle vigor.

you pulled away, your mind attempting to resist his everlasting temptation, bringing your index finger to his chest. "this isn't resolvin-"

but aaron chased your lips, immediately pressing his back to yours and stopping you mid-sentence. you reciprocated eagerly, sighing softly against his lips in content as your fingers found hold on the sides of his suit jacket.

"you're absolutely ridiculous." you laughed against his lips, providing one more chaste kiss before successfully pulling away, your cheeks flushed.

"am i?" he quipped back, rather playfully as his eyebrows rose, a cheeky expression plastered on his face - one of which only made you want to kiss him wildly.

"yeah, you are." you bantered back, exhaling to ease yourself back to the real world, which aaron also assisted in with his next statement, dropping the matter yet again.

"i'm still expecting your supplementary report on the houston case by the end of the day." he said, his hand sliding down your back and patting your ass, playfully urging you to get a move on. "get back to work."

you nearly released an audible groan but instead rolled your eyes, bringing yourself to peck aaron's lips once more. on your way out, you tossed over your shoulder. "this discussion isn't over, you know."

due to your restrained line of vision, you missed the small smirk of his lips. "and if it ends similarly, i'll be looking forward to it."

𝑠𝜏𝑢𝜌𝜄𝜕 (18+) ᯓ★

summary: after you didn't listen to daryl during a run, causing you to almost die, daryl's concern turned into anger, which led to a high-tension argument with a happy ending. content: twd blood and gore, walkers, implications of suicide, smut (oral m receiving, fingering, unprotected p in v, breeding :)), i don't know how to do warnings. pairing: daryl dixon x fem! reader. setting: prison era. ─ i actually don't hc daryl as rough or very dominant in bed but it's fun to write different things every once in a while. enjoy!

maggie and glenn had spotted an abandoned apartment complex some miles from the prison that you hadn't searched yet on the last run they made two weeks ago, so the couple, plus daryl and you went to scavenge the place this time.

maggie and glenn were on the first floor, and you were on the second with daryl.

“i'm gonna check the next one!” you announced to daryl, who was taking his sweet time searching again the places you had already searched, claiming you were not careful enough.

daryl was not lying, but the place was kind of big, and your patience was officially gone now as the second-hour mark of you all being in the location was coming close.

“wait for me, place's too big,” his gruff voice responded from the other room.

“aye, captain,” you yelled back, sending a mock salute in daryl's direction, even though he was out of sight.

“i mean it!” he added, as if sensing your intention to not listen.

you rolled your eyes and walked down the hall toward the—finally—last apartment, twisting the door open slowly. “hello?” you called softly in case there was a walker waiting on the other side. silence greeted you, but your machete remained raised defensively.

already familiar with the layout, you went ahead to check the kitchen cabinets, whispering to yourself “nice,” when you found an unopened bottle of vitamins that were still good and a pack of seeds of different herbs.

you put the stuff in your backpack and headed to the bathroom, stopping a couple of steps away from the ajar door when you caught a glimpse of some movement from the inside.

drawing your machete out again, raising on defense, you pushed the door open, ready to stab the dead geek straight in the head when a walker shorter than you expected lunged toward you, making you gasp. three others behind it followed with their jaws already hungrily biting on air.

everything happened really fast.

you tried to stab the first one with panicked fingers, instead somehow stabbing its shirt into the wall with enough force to keep it pinned there. bye-bye machete, though.

your eyes shot back to the rest, and that's when you noticed all of them had a slit throat. they looked young and skinny, only two of them taller than you. probably teens who were surviving together and gave up. it made your stomach turn.

they were also pretty fast and strong, probably recently turned.

walking away without taking your eyes off them, you reached for your knife and stabbed the blade hard into the second walker's brain with a spray of blood onto your shirt. it fell limp next to you as one of the other three walkers, eager and hungry, tackled you to the ground, the fourth one clumsily falling on top and leaving you caged beneath snapping jaws.

“DARYL,” you yelled, terrified. it felt like a big effort and not loud enough from the weight of the two living corpses pressing onto your chest, which felt like they were directly constricting your lungs and arms.

with your left hand, you pushed away the walker that was right on top of you by the forehead, while you stabbed it with your right hand from from below the jaw, failing to reach the brain, but distracting it enough to stop it from trying to bite you.

that distraction and a sudden rush of adrenaline gave you enough strength to push them both off your body, rushing away from them and snatching the machete off the one pinned to the wall as you quickly shut the door on their faces, locking yourself in the bathroom.

your hands shook as you walked backward, your knuckles white from how hard you griped your weapon's handle. you stared at the door with wide eyes, your heart thumping so loud you could barely hear as they growled, moaned, and knocked and scratched on the door.

the cold tiled wall touched your back, making you jump, and then you heard the unmistakable twang of daryl's crossbow. thump. the wet shlick of a knife twice and the sounds of more bodies hitting the ground.

you released your breath as you watched the doorknob being turned, restricted by the lock. you ran to open the door, eyebrows coming together and upwards, scared and apologetic eyes meeting his angry blue ones.

“yea hurt?”

“no.” your voice was so small.

silence lingered for a minute. you were just about to speak again but he beat you to it. loud and angered. “YER SO STUPID,” daryl barked, chest heaving. “TOLD YA TO WAIT, WHY CAN'T YEA LISTEN?”

the floor was suddenly more than interesting, tears welling in your eyes as you chewed on your bottom lip.

you heard him huff in annoyance before pacing left to right while glaring daggers at you. you knew perfectly well that this was him being concerned and scared of almost losing you, but it still made your chest feel tight and your lips pout.

daryl approached you, cupping your chin to make you look at him. his eyes were dark, the anger masking concern. “yea enjoy makin' me worry, peach?” his voice was husky and low, as his eyes scanned your face and neck slowly, scanning for bites or scratches, “not listening ta me, ya like tha'? bein' a fuckin' brat, yea 'njoy it, dontcha?”

you shook your head quickly, gulping with nerves.

“nah?” he asked, eyes squinting and head tilting as if saying he wasn't buying it. “hmm?” he asked demandingly, shaking your chin gently but firmly.

a tear rolled down your cheek, and his gaze was fixed on it soon. he dried it with his thumb, caressing the skin while he observed the wet trail it left. now that he knew for sure you weren't hurt, he couldn't help but relax, maybe enjoy the privacy you got in this big ass apartment.

“no, no. i'm sorry, i'm really sorry,” you cried.

“sorry? yeah? yer real sorry fer scaring the shit outta me?”

“yes, i'm sorry! i'm really sorry, dar.”

daryl's hand dropped from your chin, eyeing you carefully, head going back slightly with a predatory-like grace.

“dun' think yer sorry. think yer gon' do it again, yea never listen,” he said in a low voice, turning his back to you and walking away into the living room. your legs started following him before you even realized it.

“i'm sorry, i swear!”

daryl ignored you, taking a seat on the green sofa in the living room, manspreading so very obviously intentionally, and your eyes couldn't help but stare as his hips went slightly up as he adjusted himself, letting his hand linger on his crotch. “how sorry?”

one look at his narrowed, stormy eyes and you were on your knees, hands sliding up from his knees to his thighs.

“very sorry.”

his gaze dropped for a moment to the growing bulge in his pants and the back to your eyes. a silent invitation; more like a command, and you'd gladly indulge.

eager hands went to undo his belt and pants, pulling them down, along with his boxers in one swift motion, freeing his almost fully-hard cock. you licked your lips at the sight, leaning forward to kiss his angry red tip. you peppered soft kisses on his tip and down the base of his length, looking up at him with the sweetest doe eyes you could muster.

he breathed heavily, his nostrils flaring. slowly, those pecks turned into open-mouthed kisses and soon you were making out with his tip, “mhm,” you heard him hum, closing his eyes and throwing his head back with a smirk on his face.

you savored the pre-cum daryl was already leaking with a patience that was starting to irritate him. this wasn't a reward for your bratty behavior.

daryl took a handful of your hair and put it up, using it as leverage to thrust his hips upward without warning, making your eyes go wide as they made contact with his. he grunted as he pushed in and out of your pretty mouth, finding a rhythm soon.

one of your hands left his thigh to take hold of his balls, gently massaging them and playing with them in your hands. you watched how it made him bite on his bottom lip, bringing his free hand to your head to push you further, fucking your throat deeper, using it, and making you gag.

“yeah,” he breathed with hazy eyes, “lookin' real pretty like tha', ya fuckin' brat.”

daryl grunted, his cock twitching in your mouth. he was already on the edge, so when you looked up at him with teary eyes and scratched the exposed skin of his thigh with your nails, a pretty moan escaped his lips, making him yank, still as gently as he could, your hair back, pulling your mouth away from his cock.

you gasped for air, but still, like a hungry little thing, tried to take him back in your mouth, which made him chuckle.

“gonna make me cum fast with those pretty—” he leaned down, tilting your head up with a finger under your chin to press a couple of kisses on each one of your eyes, licking away a tear that escaped one of them, “—fuckin' eyes.”

his hand lowered to grab you by the neck, not actually using any force.

he pulled you for a passionate kiss, his tongue immediately seeking yours to lick and suck as he guided you onto the couch, making you sit next to him, one of your legs thrown over his knee.

his left hand grabbed the back of your head to deepen the kiss, while his other hand reached down to undo the button and zipper of your shorts, pulling away from the kiss just to yank them down, discarding them on the floor and wasting no time to return his mouth to yours, making your back arch slightly.

after what felt like such a blissful eternity, his lips latched onto the skin of your neck, sucking with the intent to create bruises, licking and kissing the skin when he accomplished his goal. at the same time, his hands slid under your blood-stained top, which despite its navy blue color, the crimson was still visible.

daryl caressed the skin of your tummy before traveling to your back, quickly unclasping your bra to cup your breasts under all those layers. he kneaded your tits, flicking your perky nipples with his thumbs, pinching them between the index and middle finger, and massaging the skin. fuck, it felt good. for both of you.

he growled as he pulled away from your neck to start ripping your shirt in half, chuckling lightly at your confused face, “found plenty'a clothes, sunshine,” he kissed your frown away, “dis one's ruined anyway.”

you removed the split shirt off your body and he quickly slipped your bra off your shoulders, throwing it a little too eagerly onto the floor. “ain't this a sight,” he whispered to himself, staring at you all naked and exposed for him. “beautiful little thing.”

daryl popped one tit into his mouth as he slowly spread your folds with his index and middle finger, humming against your nipped while he sucked when he felt how wet you were for him.

you gasped, arching your back more, offering your chest for him as he introduced his middle and ring fingers inside your needy cunt, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. his other hand went to your waist, gripping the skin like a vice, growing hard again as he scissored his fingers inside of you, feeling your silky walls hug them hungrily.

he lightly bit your nipple, his speed getting impatient soon, quickly making you squirm underneath him and get louder, but he shut you with a sloppy, hungry kiss while pinning your hips down with the hand that was priorly on your waist.

you weren't going to last long.

“dar—” you whined against his mouth.

“i know, doll, i know,” he mumbled, still kissing you as though your mouth was addictive, his fingers resolute on making you explode. “i gotcha, let go, baby.”

and like the good, obedient girl you always were under his touch, you did just that.

pulling away from his mouth with your eyes thrown back, your face contorted in pleasure, and the sweetest cry falling off your lips, you came. his relentless fingers never stopping their movements, fucking you through your orgasm.

he grunted in satisfaction, watching you in such awe before leaning down to lick a strip from your sternum to your jaw as his fingers came to a slow, eventual stop.

you opened your eyes as your breathing returned to normal, pulling him in for a slow, passionate kiss while your hand raised to grip his deliciously strong bicep. you moaned as the muscle flexed under your fingertips.

pulling away, you moved hastily to straddle him. leaning down you bit onto the skin, while he gripped the base of his cock to brush it against your entrance, making both of you moan.

“need you,” you whined, so pathetic but he liked it. fuck, he loved it.

“my needy girl. my needy little thing,” he growled, kissing your cheeks and jaw—anywhere his mouth reached while you sank onto his cock. “yeah,” he moaned, hands going to your his automatically.

you bit your bottom lip, rolling and bouncing your hips atop his, your hands on his chest that now was bare. the stretch made little cries of pleasure escape your lips, that only got whinier when his fingertips dipped into the skin, surely to leave bruises.

“fuckin' love this,” he breathed, reaching down to rub on your clit with his thumb as you lay on his chest, your hard nipples rubbing against his warm skin.

you bounced on his dick impaled in you, him meeting you halfway with thrusts of his own, finding the right angle that had his tip kissing your cervix, making you sigh and moan, “yeah, yeah, daryl, right there,” over and over, mind going blank already.

his calloused hands moved from your hips to your ass, squeezing and slapping the soft skin hungrily, traveling up to your back and to your tits, sliding back down to your hips. he couldn't stop touching you, pressing you impossibly closer to him.

his mouth found yours again, as sloppy and messy as this his thrusts were becoming from how close you were taking him to the edge. “dar,” you cried, your thighs burning, giving up, but he gripped your hips and started pounding into you faster.

the sound of skin slapping and your shameless moans mixed in the most sinful of symphonies.

your mouth found the skin of his neck and you sucked and bit, trying to muffle your sounds, but he didn't agree. “nah, let me hear ya, baby. gonna make you scream real loud, peach, c'mere,” with his hand behind your neck he pulled you up and pressed his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes as he picked up the pace.

his eyes, the way you breathed each other in, his dick sliding in and out of you in the loveliest way. you couldn't hold it anymore.

your walls clenched around him as you screamed his name, curses, and senseless praises to him, absolutely sucking him in as you climaxed around him, drunk off pleasure which seemed so contagious as his movements and sounds became more desperate.

with a primal urge, he thrusted deep inside, pretty much humping your walls while he shoved your face further into his neck. he was close and would've come already if it wasn't because he wanted this to last.

a husky voice reached your ears, deeper and so sexy.

“gon' breed this pussy,” he breathed, “gonna come so deep inside and put a baby in you,” it made you whimper, your arousal waking again like a flash, feeling just as close as he was. “i'm gonna put a baby in yea, make yea a mama, and ya won't,” thrust, “have a choice,” thrust, “but to stay home.”

he grunted loudly in your ear as he shattered, shooting rope after rope of hot, white come into your womb, making you reach the sweetest, most intense climax of the day with him.

you both were a panting, sweaty, content mess by the time you came down from your highs. there was a bright smile on your face that mirrored daryl's, though his face turned serious as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, gaze locking with yours, worry and concern clear in his icy irises.

“don't do tha' again, please,” he said. “i can't lose ya, sunshine.”

“you won't,” you reassured him. “i'm really, really, sorry,” taking his hand in yours, you pressed a kiss on his palm. “i was stupid, and it won't happen again.”

“you weren't stupid. i was mad, shouldn't 'a said that.”

you nodded, leaning down to kiss him, which he gladly reciprocated, though you broke the kiss a little too soon for his liking with a giggle. “so you wanna make me a mama, huh?” you teased.

“prolly should talk 'bout it first, but yeah.”

you smiled brightly again, caressing his cheek. “i'd like that too,” you said, “but yes, we should talk about it,” you giggled again as he pulled out of you with a wince from both of you.

you were about to get up to get your clothes but he stopped you, shooting up from the couch to collect all your clothes, pulling a new shirt from his backpack, and helping you put it on, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead when you were both fully dressed again.

after drying your sweat with his rag, and while fixing your hair as much as you could, you headed downstairs, meeting maggie and glenn who were exiting one of the apartments downstairs.

you noticed glenn's shirt was inside out, unlike when you all arrived at the place, and maggie similarly fixed her hair as you.

“found anything good?” glenn asked your man.

“yeah, bunch'a clothes, some medicine,” daryl nodded, fixing the backpacks around his shoulders. you shared a look with maggie, and you both giggled silently, cheeks blushing.

tagging @ledgeria16 @poisonmedixon @dixons-sunshine comment to join the main taglist!

i want rafe and reader at midsummers 😩😩

i did with shy reader being nervous before! hope this is okay ♡

a big public event—and that too on rafe's arm for the first time in front of his family and all of his friends, along with everyone you seemed to know too. it was enough to have you in hysterics, but you kept all the turmoil in your brain inside, not wanting rafe to think you couldn't handle this.

rafe had invited you for a reason. the last thing you wanted to do was disappoint him, but your own nerves were taking over.

what if you did something wrong? like embarrassing yourself and rafe in front of everyone. or worse, if you said the wrong thing or froze up in an important moment? the thoughts clouded your mind, made everything seem hazy in the days leading up to the party.

you'd been to midsummers only once before—forgoing the other years since going out to a big party with the entire town didn't seem appealing at all, only going if your parents dragged you.

but this year was special—your first with rafe, and he had cared enough to ask you along, as his date. you'd gone to the shops and picked out a pretty white dress and blue shoes to match him, nails painted and hair done.

even now, all dressed up and waiting in your bedroom for rafe to come get you, you debated if you could really do this. so lost in your thoughts, applying layers of lip gloss and staring in the mirror to catch any last minute imperfection, you don't even hear rafe come in.

"c'mon, kid. ready? car's runnin'."

you turn to look—like always, rafe looks so handsome your heart hurts. he gets closer, and you want to shy away, maybe crawl under the sheets with him and wake up tomorrow morning after this whole thing is over, but you refrain. rafe kneels down next to where you're seated on the vanity, a hand on your knee.

"you look beautiful."

the way he says it, you believe him.

"thanks," you breathe out, still staring down at him.

"c'mon. don't wanna be late, right?" nodding, you follow him downstairs. when the two of you arrive at the party, your heart is thudding in your chest. you grip his arm tight before he can lead you in, moving to the side of the entrance.

"i-i just need a minute, please. i-"

"s'okay. something wrong?" rafe leans in to ask, and you feel flushed all over again. he cares, and all you want is to please him, make him feel like he doesn't have to worry about you tonight. you swallow uncomfortabtly.

"yes. i just-i'm.. being me. sorry."

"don't say sorry." rafe does the thing, the thing that always makes you melt, taking your chin into his hand and tilting your head up so he can look at you. "you wanna leave?"

"no, no, i- we just got here. i can do it. this is important to you."

"you're important to me. not this crap. you wanna go home? i'll take you now."

when he says it, you feel like you're floating. you shake your head, following rafe in, and though for the last week you'd been scared about this very moment, it doesn't feel so bad now that rafe's reassured you. he's good like that, good for you, calming you down instantly.

you sip on a drink and stay attached to rafe's arm—briefly wondering if he wants you to go mingle alone. but when you try to pull away, he doesn't let you go, hand wandering to your waist and holding you there firmly.

you smile up at him while he's in conversation with someone, and though he's still talking, rafe takes the minute to look down and smile at you.

You were watching Daryl across the fire, enjoying the fish the two of you had caught only a couple hours before. You felt something bursting up within you. Night had fallen and with it your level of anxiety rose. Past happenings surged forward in your mind. The darkness seemed to move closer.

“Hmm?” Daryl hummed, noticing perhaps a shadow coming over your features.

You licked your lips and paused thoughtfully. “I was just thinking… how is it you’re never scared?”

Daryl gulped and shook his head. “Who says I ain’t?”

You considered this for a moment. “But you always seem so fearless.”

“Seem and are are two different things,” he drawled. “I ain’t fearless. But ’m more afraid of somethin’ bad happenin’ to—to somebody I care ‘bout,” he said, catching himself before he’d simply said “you.”

Prompt: “How is it you’re never scared?”

chapter summary: reality is certainly a hard pill to swallow – but in order to keep moving forward, swallow it you must.

word count: 4.2k

c/w: language, bickering, excessive use of apostrophes (courtesy of the dixon accent), subtle bodily description of reader (tits and hips, nothing too in-depth), low key sexual harassment I think (merle checks reader out a lot), blossoming friendships, minor angst, suggestive thoughts, brief mentions of grief/loss, subtle tension, pre-season one

chapter one: dislocated introductions

it had been some time since shane ushered the two men into his tent for a ‘discussion.’ in fact, by the time you’d walked down to the lake and back, the men were still inside the tent. you weren’t nervous about it, per se, but you certainly hadn’t liked the look on shane’s face as he guided them to the tent.

he looked… uncharacteristically angry. it was a look you hadn’t seen on his face in all the years you’d known him, which were quite a few – even when the world had been blown to shit, even as he watched the napalm drop into the streets of atlanta, even when he recalled the massacre he’d witnessed in the hospital, he hadn’t looked that angry.

it had you wondering why.

to you, it didn’t seem like such a big deal. shane’s reaction would have been understandable had merle been waving his gun around or pointing it at someone, or if he’d been threatening the camp in some way. but all merle had done was show up and ask for his brother, albeit a bit argumentatively; but he kept his gun holstered to his hip the whole time, never even reaching a hand down toward it.

and, honestly, who didn’t have a gun on them with the world in the state that it was?

shane’s reaction had appealed as more of an overreaction in your eyes. you could understand mistrusting complete strangers, especially ones who were armed, but the way shane handled it just seemed so… extreme. and to be angry at daryl for his brother’s choices? just ridiculous.

you had to physically restrain yourself from creeping closer to shane’s tent in an attempt to garner an earful. from this distance, you couldn’t hear any of the words that were being passed around within, but so far no yelling had broken out. you were sure the whole camp would be able to hear it if it had. but you were so damn curious; even though it truly wasn’t a matter than concerned you.

daryl wasn’t even supposed to be a concern to you; shane had made it clear right from the start what he thought your concerns should be – but you felt strangely as if daryl’s fate was being decided within that tent, and a part of you desperately wanted to have a say in that for reasons you couldn’t understand.

reasons you weren’t sure you wanted to understand.

“hey, sweetheart.” your concentration was torn from shane’s tent by a soft voice behind you and a warm hand on your shoulder. you whipped your head around and squinted against the glare of the georgia sun, barely able to perceive the outline of lori standing above you.

“oh, hey, lori.” you acknowledged the older woman with a small smile. she returned the gesture with a small squeeze to your shoulder.

“do you know where shane is?” lori queried with a glance around the camp. you grimaced subtly and gestured to shane’s tent.

“he’s in there. he’s talking to daryl and his brother.” you answered, a bit flippantly, still irked by the event that had transpired previously, still unable to remove that expression on shane’s face from your mind.

“daryl?” lori mused, eyebrows sewing together in confusion. you chuckled airily and nodded, using your hands to mimic the act of adjusting a strap over your shoulder.

“daryl, the guy with the crossbow.” you iterated, and lori’s lips popped open in a small ‘o’ shape as she mentally connected the dots.

“I didn’t know he had a brother.” lori hummed thoughtfully as she circled around you, plopping herself down on the wooden crate positioned diagonal from the one you sat on. her dark hair fell strand by strand over her shoulder as she planted her elbows on her knees and leaned forward.

“no one did,” you concurred. “hell, I don’t think anyone even knew his name. I didn’t know it until just earlier.”

lori simply nodded in agreement, glancing over in the direction of shane’s tent. you couldn’t help but notice a strange mist covering her eyes, as if she wasn’t truly seeing what she was looking at. concern gnawed like a tiny beast at your brain, and you leaned closer to the woman and lowered your voice, softly calling, “you okay, lor?”

you wouldn’t say lori and yourself were particularly close – at least not in a way that was inseparable, as you had been with your brother. but lori had certainly lived up to the ‘sister in law’ name, quickly becoming your family in every way but blood; you looked up to her, cared for her, and seeing her eyes cloud over with that look just didn’t sit right with you. especially not with shane’s glare still fresh in your mind.

“what was that, sweetie?” lori asked, almost absentmindedly, eyes never leaving the tent. you swallowed around a tight knot in your throat.

“I asked if you were okay, lori.” you reiterated, placing a bit more force into your tone, which seemed to break her from her trance. her eyes, now clear of that fog, returned to yours and her lips pulled up into a smile.

“yeah, yeah, I’m fine. just a bit… distracted, I guess.”

you weren’t wholly convinced by her answer, but confident enough in the fact that if there was something bothering her she would open up about it, you shirked off the worry and steered the conversation into a different direction.

“where’s carl?”

“carol’s watching him. he’s coloring with sophia right now.” lori responded almost immediately, but a stone still dropped into your stomach when she added, “why is shane talking to daryl and his brother in there?”

“well, I don’t know the full story. I was doing laundry when carl came and got me. I guess daryl’s brother just marched right into camp and demanded to see him.”

“carl was near him?” lori asked, panic eddying into her voice. you quickly reached over and grasped her by the crook of the elbow, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“he was fine, lori. shane and I were both there. honestly, if you ask me, he wasn’t in any danger in the first place.” you barely managed to stifle back a scoff, and lori stared at you as if you’d grown a second head.

“morales told me he had a gun.”

you nodded in agreement. “he did, but he never even took it out of the holster. but shane just… overreacted. demanded that he hand it over.”

lori blinked slowly, once then twice, before she sighed and linked her fingers together between her knees.

“I can’t say if he was overreacting or not. but I know he’s been… stressed lately, so that may have played a part in his actions.”

you bit the inside of your cheek and swallowed down the groan that threatened to bubble past your lips. you weren’t sure what had you so irritated about the whole ordeal, you just were.

“that’s probably why he’s holding a full-scale interrogation in there right now, too, huh?” you quipped.

“he’s probably just making sure they’re good people. you can’t really take chances these days.” lori shot back.

now, you simply couldn’t hold back your scoff. was lori really on the same page as shane?

“daryl has been here for days, and nothing bad has happened. he came in with a crossbow, for christ’s sake! he very easily could have put an arrow between anyone’s eyes by now, but he hasn’t.” you combated, fixing lori with a glare. why were you so angry, anyway?

lori pursed her lips and the muscles of her throat contracted as she swallowed deeply. her knuckles began to whiten from how tightly her fingers were wound together.

“be that as it may, we don’t know his brother at all. daryl could be perfectly sane whereas his brother could be the complete opposite. I agree with what shane asked of him, and I agree with what he’s doing now.” lori implored, her eyes wide with plea; a plea for you to understand.

the irritation within your chest quelled a small bit as you digested lori’s words. could it be, perhaps, that you were the one who overreacted? human nature is a concept that is difficult to conceive, and just because shane’s actions seemed to air too far on the side of caution, you supposed they weren’t completely uncalled for; as lori had stated, merle was a mystery to everyone except daryl, and he could very well pose a threat in the future, even if he hadn’t posed one hours ago.

“I suppose you’re right, lori.” you finally conceded with a sigh, sending the older woman a bit of a sheepish look. your anger towards her and the situation suddenly dawned on you as a bit childish. lori’s lips pulled into a wide smile and she reached over to rub her palm into your bicep.

“it’s okay to have crushes, sweetheart. but don’t let them overtake your sense of reason.” lori murmured, her voice edged with amusement.

you gaped at lori as your cheeks bloomed with heat. crushes? what the hell was she talking about? you didn’t have a crush on anyone.

you were just upset that shane had immediately considered merle a threat without even knowing the man. because shane didn’t know him, and by considering him a threat, he, by extension, called daryl into question and –

oh.

oh.

that’s what lori meant.

don’t let them overtake your sense of reason.

slowly, everything began to click into place. the real reason behind your anger and frustration at shane’s actions. it wasn’t because you considered them to be too cautious, but because you didn’t like the idea of shane, or anyone else, viewing daryl as a potential threat.

the one thing you couldn’t figure out was why. why did that irk you so bad? was it because you genuinely felt that, bad attitude aside and no matter how much he annoyed you, daryl was a good guy? or was it because you simply wanted daryl to be a good guy because you were attracted to him?

or was it because you hated the way his face had contorted with discomfort when shane confronted him about something he clearly hadn’t wanted happening in the first place?

“fuck!” you groaned, burying your heated face into your palms. your reaction prompted a bubbly laugh from lori, who once more reached over to give your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“it’s okay, hun. just take some time to calm down, yeah? maybe go color with carl like you used to?” lori suggested, and you playfully batted at her hand, sending her a glare through your fingers.

“I’m not twelve anymore, lori. that won’t work on me.”

contrary to the statement you’d uttered to lori, you found yourself seated at the makeshift table next to carl not even fifteen minutes later, an indigo crayon clutched in your hand and two children giggling at your masterpiece.

“apples aren’t supposed to be blue!” carl guffawed, tilting his head to the side and scrutinizing your crudely drawn apple.

“okay, two things, carl,” you started, reaching over to flick the boy in the ear lightly. “first thing – this isn’t blue, it’s indigo. and, second thing” – you extended your arm past carl to the stack of crayons beside him – “I wouldn’t have to make my apple indigo if someone wasn’t hogging all the red crayons!”

carl nearly squealed and shot his hands up to slap at your arm, effectively batting away your advance towards his treasure trove. at the look of mock surprise you shot him, carl erupted into a fit of giggles and laughs, which shot warmth straight through your chest.

carl looked so much like rick that sometimes it hurt.

overcome with affection for the boy, you ruffled his hair, your fingers getting caught unceremoniously by the subtle tangles within.

“you need a haircut,” you observed, retracting your fingers from carl’s hair as gently as you could. carl made a gagging noise and shook his head vehemently. his reaction pulled a small chuckle from your throat. carl hated haircuts.

“hey, it’s that strange man.” sophia suddenly exclaimed, voice lowered as though to only speak to the occupants of the table. your heart tripped over itself and you whipped your head towards the direction sophia was gesturing to. sure enough, you noticed the man from earlier, merle, sauntering towards the table.

something quick and hot shot through your veins, lori’s previous words returning to your mind with a vengeance, and before you could truly stop to think about what you were doing, you were out of your seat and meeting merle halfway.

for a moment, the two of you simply stared at one another – merle seemed to be visually appreciating your body, whereas you were searching his for any sign of threat. the gun that had been holstered to his hip was absent, which slightly lowered his danger level in your eyes, but you weren’t about to let him any closer to carl or sophia.

just in case.

finally, after what felt like ages of staring one another down, merle spoke, his voice low and raspy.

“I just wanted’ta come find’ya and properly introduce myself. merle dixon.”

merle extended a large, somewhat grimy hand to you. after a moment’s consideration, you reached forward and gripped it with your own. you noticed that his hand was rough and littered with callouses. he was obviously no stranger to hard work.

“(y/n) grimes. am I correct to assume that you’re staying with us?”

you released your grip but merle had yet to let your hand go, holding it in his for the duration of a vocalized hum before letting it go.

“indeed, you are. see, yer man shane proposed an offer that my brother ‘n I simply couldn’ refuse.”

your heart throbbed inside your chest and your throat tightened. did that mean daryl was staying, too? completely oblivious to the slippery mental slope you were approaching, merle continued.

“so’s I figured tha’ since we’re goin’ta be proper campmates now, I’d come over and introduce myself; and giv’ya some of my true-earned gratitude.”

“gratitude?” you parroted, scrunching your eyebrows in confusion. merle nodded slowly, almost sagely, and slipped his thumbs through the belt loops at his hips.

“yes, ma’am. had’ya not stepped in when’ya did, I’m afrai’ I prol’ly would’a lost my cool.” merle conceded with a sigh, and once more your walls shot up. you stood straighter and leveled the man with a glare. upon seeing your reaction, merle retracted his thumbs from his belt loops and raised his hands in a placating manner.

“woah, calm down. I wouldn’ta shot yer boy or anythin’. I mean, had he raised his gun firs’, that’d’be a diff’ren’ story. I was just meanin’ I feared it may’ave escalated had’ya not stepped in.”

you swallowed thickly and nodded just subtly; it was difficult for you to discern if merle was telling the truth or not, but his admission had brought about an iron-willed conviction inside you.

you would definitely keep your eye on merle dixon.

“well, there’s no thanks needed. no one would have wanted it to escalate; shane certainly wouldn’t have.” you said stiffly, crossing your arms over your chest in a protective manner. you ignored the way merle slipped his eyes down to the top of your breasts; you had some tits, you wouldn’t deny that. and as long as he kept his hands to himself, you didn’t see a reason to overreact.

“merle! git yer ass in gear an’ le’s go! we’re wastin’ daylight!”

your eyes were immediately drawn to the source of the new voice. biceps glistening and flexing with each step he took, angry scowl etched into his face, and the strap of his crossbow strangled in a white knuckled grip, he was a vision of pissed off. lori’s previous assertion of a crush had your cheeks flooding with heat as you watched daryl stalk closer.

by the time daryl finally stopped next to merle, your heart had created its own off-tune beat within your chest, and your cheeks felt hotter than the sun – but you pushed away everything you were feeling and gave the rugged, angry man a once-over. you already decided to keep an eye on merle, so you might as well go the extra mile and keep one on daryl, too.

you wouldn’t complain about having to do that.

it was as you were scanning his waistline that you noticed a familiar string of rope slipped through his belt loop. it was the same rope he’d knot multiple squirrels to, like he had the first day he entered camp.

“you’re going hunting?” you asked, halfway-conversationally, halfway with the intention of prompting that gravelly voice from daryl’s throat again.

except, it wasn’t daryl who answered. rather, he tore his eyes away from yours and focused on the foliage that lined the clearing, and merle spoke up in his stead.

“it’s our part of the bargain, darlin’. we keep you people fed, and we get stay here.”

you snapped your eyes back to merle in a vexed manner; if the man took notice of it, he didn’t respond to it other than with a slight widening of the smile on his face. you quickly pushed away your annoyance in favor of shifting your tone into something that could pass as amicable.

“well, good luck with that, then.”

it would be much easier to keep your eye on merle if there wasn’t any tension; keep your friends close and your potential enemies closer. that sort of thing.

“why, thank’ya, sugar, but I don’ thin’ we’ll need any’a tha’. daryl and me’s been in the woods since we was li’l.” merle drawled, inching himself closer to you. you resisted the urge to retreat, but you allowed yourself the lee-way of shrinking your arm back when merle extended a hand with the intention of grazing his fingers across your skin.

discomfort was burrowing deep into your body, but your ears nearly perked at the unintentional slip of information about the man you’d been wondering about for days. it was a fact that you could have surmised just by observing him, but the verbal confirmation of it had your brain thirsting for more.

it wasn’t because of a crush. it was only because of physical attraction; and of course physical attraction would lead to curiosity. of course.

at your clear rejection of touch, merle dropped his hand back down to his side, much to your relief. you were already connecting the dots on the type of person merle was just from this brief interaction, and though he wasn’t exactly coloring himself as a legitimate rapist, you determined that, from this point forward, you’d still do your best to ensure he’d never be alone with you or any other woman in the camp.

because this man was most certainly a pervert, at the very least.

“you should get going, dixon.” you murmured flippantly, casting a brief glance upward. “you’re wasting daylight.”

you thanked every invisible star in the sky that you were fast enough to catch the way daryl’s eyes shot to you as you parroted his previous words to his brother – it was such a quick glance that you were unable to ascertain what it meant, or if there was any interest hidden within, but your skin still tingled and your heart still tripped over itself when it happened.

but it wasn’t because of a goddamn crush.

mid-afternoon had melted to dusk before you could even register that that much time had passed.

the camp seemed so serene now; bathed in an orange glow, quieted, with multiple people milling about to the tune of cricket song, popping embers and whistling wind. the sun’s wavering strength granted a breath of chilly air, soothing the heat beneath your skin.

but even the cool, serene atmosphere of the camp couldn’t quell the storm raging inside your head; not as it normally would.

it was so stupid – you knew it was. and it wasn’t like yourself, either. there was no time for second guesses, not before and definitely not now.

and yet, it was a broken record. scratchy and choppy, set to an endless loop that frayed every single nerve within your body, the very embodiment of the sole goal of driving you absolutely insane with doubt.

crush.

crush.

the word taunted you, teased you, made you question everything; and it really shouldn’t. you knew it shouldn’t.

and you also knew with every fiber of your being that it was wrong – that lori was wrong. because you… you did not develop crushes. you never had. any relations you ever had with men were born of pure physical desire, with no underlying emotions.

you only ever felt physical attraction, lust, and want. it was familiar, it was comfortable, it was natural, it was you.

so why the hell were you second guessing the nature that you’d always harbored? the nature that had never changed, that never would change?

it was lori’s fault, plain and simple.

she was the reason you were thinking so much. all because she had uttered that one little word. and now you had to do something about it. you had to put a stop to it.

you zigzagged around multiple shoulders as you made your way across camp, bumping into some with muted apologies, absentmindedly, eyes rapidly scanning the crowd until you were able to finally locate lori. she was standing next to the rv that belonged to dale, engaged in some sort of indistinct conversation with the man – that was until you grabbed her wrist and pulled her off to the side, dragging her to the farthest reaches of the camp.

“(y/n), what’s going on–” lori attempted to prod you gently, but you cut her off by swinging around to face her.

“I just want to have sex with him!” you breathed out in a rush, surely resembling a wild, scared animal with the way your eyes darted around the camp. lori’s own eyes widened to the size of dinner plates whereas her eyebrows furrowed together.

“u-uhm, sure, y-yeah. you mean daryl, right?” lori pressed, and you nodded vigorously.

“yes, I mean him. I just wanted to make that clear, because earlier you said something about a crush, and I just want you to know that it’s not like that–”

why were you even explaining this? had you really gone off the deep end? had the end of the world finally rusted every last screw left in your brain?

“okay, okay, honey, I need you to breathe.” lori directed, softly, catching your hands in hers, adding, “what I said was only a joke. I know it’s not like that.”

relief sagged your shoulders as you let out a deep breath. you met lori’s gaze, still wide and confused and bewildered, and then everything crashed into you with the force of a derailed train.

you couldn’t stop it. you laughed. a full on belly laugh. because you were being so fucking ridiculous – and feeling highly embarrassed at the moment.

“god, I’m so stupid. I’m sorry lori, I don’t know why I’m even acting like this.”

lori let out a soft chuckle and released your hands. her eyes softened and the smile she wore was genuine; more genuine than you’d seen in a long time.

“you aren’t being stupid, (y/n). I think maybe you’re just feeling restless. anyone would if they were cooped up here all day, every day. I imagine it’s hard on you.”

lori wasn’t entirely wrong. before the world had went to shit, you were an adventurous spirit. you never much liked the idea of staying in one place – there was too much to explore, too much to see, too much to do – and you couldn’t even fathom not indulging in that, of not feeding the desire.

but this spirit of yours was the whole reason you weren’t there the day rick got shot, why it took you nearly a week to get to king county to visit his room; why a goodbye was rendered impossible.

but that wasn’t why you were acting this way; that you knew for a fact.

tears stung at the back of your eyes and, ever observant, lori pulled you into her chest and circled her arms around your waist. warmth bloomed across your front and the sweet scent of lori’s perfume, faded and floral, mixed with the scent of sweat and smoke clinging to her skin. the scent, despite being slightly odorous, sunk into your body and brought about extreme comfort. you bit back the sobs by sinking your teeth deep into your bottom lip and squeezed lori back tightly, shedding your silent tears into the welcoming jut of her collarbone as she shushed you softly.

you felt completely rattled – because it all suddenly made sense to you.

consuming yourself with lust over a stranger, worrying about the fate of that stranger, or even tearing yourself up inside over whether or not you actually had a crush on said stranger – it was far easier than letting reality take the wheel, far easier than accepting the fact that the life you had and the world you knew were both gone, sucked away into an endless black hole, never to be seen again.

and there was nothing you could do about it.

a/n: if you enjoyed this chapter and are looking forward to more, please consider liking/commenting/reblogging/following, or maybe even get yourself added to the taglist! I love y’all so much! also, I’ve decided to switch some things around given the depth these chapters are given – some events were cut from this one and will be added into chapter 2 – which is when reader and daryl really start interacting!

NOTE: the dividers used in this post do not belong to me, nor did I create them. they come from this post, labeled under free-to-use. all credits go to the creator of the dividers.

TAGLIST: @daryldixmedown @chylerluvschim @alialiclouds

𝓇.cameron. ┆ 4:24pm.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ finally introducing to y'all shy, bambi!reader (she's so me!) i hope y'all love her as much as i do .!!! 🧸♡ྀི

bambi!reader is a shy, precious, skittish little thing, with you always burying your nose in some romance novel, loves going antique shopping, obsessed with pearl jewelry, loves the color pastel pink (like most of your outfits), besides the occasional virginal white that your now boyfriend, rafe cameron, likes to see you wear for him, always all dolled up and so, so fucking pretty.

you're a painfully shy girl, which rafe finds cute, especially when he first introduced himself to you, but strangely, even though rafe was a little tipsy, barley even drunk, he couldn't help but walk up to you that night at the party he was hosting, never quite seeing you before, and try to start up a conversation with you, needing to be close to you—it was like an instant pull towards you, like he needed to be close to you.

it almost felt like his heartstrings were pulling and tugging him towards you, like you hypnotized him from across his large balcony at tannyhill—you stood alone, taking tiny sips of the fruity, alcoholic seltzer you've been drinking since you arrived barely an hour ago.

once rafe got you talking, all sweet and shy, and yes, it took some time, your answers were slightly short, timid and nervous, like you were scared of embarrassing yourself in front of him, which rafe thought was incredibly adorable, his obsession with you only growing more and more.

rafe continued making light conversation with you throughout the evening, with you giving him pretty, little demure smiles, and all rafe could think about was fucking you in the most nasty, downright animalistic of ways—however, he knew he would have to have patience, to be gentle, not wanting to frighten you in any way, shape, or form.

you'd make the most perfect little housewife, he was certain of it. rafe already knew you would be his—his dream girl, the girl that he would someday put a giant, sparking diamond on your pretty, dainty little ring finger, already freshly manicured with french tips.

rafe couldn't help but also begin to imagine you all full and plump with a kid of his inside of your womb, plenty of little cameron babies to come, he knows it, deep in his bones, that you're the girl for him.

meanwhile, as the conversation between you both continued, with rafe mostly doing most of the talking, he would start asking more personal questions, perhaps too personal, but rafe wasn't ever one to give a fuck—except now, but even still, he had this need to know every little thing about your sweet, beautiful self.

"soo..." rafe chuckled lightly, a lazy smirk on his lips, taking small sips of his beer occasionally, while cocking his head slightly to catch your pretty, doe-like eyes, decorated with long, fluffy mink lashes—so damn pretty, rafe thought to himself in that moment, and every single moment after that while spending time in your company.

"do you, uh... h-have a boyfriend?" he questioned casually, though he could already feel his blood boiling at the mere thought of some other man's hands on you, watching as you immediately became shy and bashful, and it made the oldest cameron sibling want to kiss you, to claim you, to mark you as his and his forever—luckily, he was able to refrain himself and control his temper, and his desire for you, surprisingly.

and then, once you shyly shook your head no, all pretty and doll-like and submissive, rafe was already thinking of multiple ways about making you his, his, his—permanently.