Norman Reedus/Daryl Dixon stuff and thangs (Completed)

Safe (Daryl Dixon Imagine)

Imagine: there’s quite a big age gap between you and Daryl and when you finally get together, he’s worried about what everyone else will think (request from @darkgrungemusic) (1498 words)

thanks so much for this request! it was really fun to write. 1) im sorry that it took so long to post and 2) im sorry that i dont really get around to the age gap thing until more than halfway through, but i had to have some story/character development! hope u like it! - natasha :-)

edit: when i wrote this i was assuming daryl was mid 30s/early 40s

  The prison was so quiet at night. I mean, it was pretty quiet all the time, but when everyone was sleeping and the only sound was the dripping of a leaky tap in the bathroom, a whole new kind of silence was reached. I loved it.
  The constant buzz of the pre-apocalypse world was not something I missed. I think most of the others would disagree with me — Carol’s always telling me she’d love to hear the roar of a jumbo jet — but I’ve always valued the quiet. It gives me space to think. And there’s a lot of thinking to be done.
  I spat out a mouthful of toothpaste (my personal favourite run finding) and washed it away, splashing some water onto my face in the process. I checked my watch: 12:04 a.m. A little late for me, as I liked to get up early, but I’d found a good book and hadn’t been able to put it down.
  I started to walk back to my cell, my eyelids drooping. On a whim, I stopped outside of Daryl’s cell to say goodnight. I wasn’t sure he’d still be awake, but it was worth checking.
  “Daryl?” I whispered, gently pushing the curtain hung across the doorway aside.
  “Whataya want, Y/N?” he whispered back, only a slight grumble to his tone.
  “Just wanted to say goodnight.”
  “Whatever.”
  I rolled my eyes and sighed slightly. “Well. Sweet dreams, I guess.” I let go of the curtain and spun on my heel, disappointed with Daryl’s lack of enthusiasm. I’d taken three steps away from Daryl’s cell when I heard him mutter my name. I stopped in my tracks and listened carefully, certain I’d imagined it.
  “Y/N, come back,” came Daryl’s voice again, barely audible.
  Tentatively, I edged my way back to the curtain and stepped inside the cell. “What?”
  “Nothin’, just — goodnight,” he said, lying on his bunk and facing the wall.
  I hesitated, biting my lip. Before I could even think about what I was doing, I sat down on the end of the bed. My back brushed up against Daryl’s legs. He jumped a little as the springs shifted and turned his head slightly to see what was going on.
  “Fuck off, Y/N, I’m tryna fuckin’ sleep.”
  “Do you normally sleep with all your clothes and boots on?”
  “‘Course. Don’t you?”
  “I feel safe enough here that I don’t feel like I’ll need to get up and run in the middle of the night.”
  “Well that’s fuckin’ stupid.”
  “Maybe.”
  “Whataya mean, ‘maybe’? It’s stupid, you’re stupid.”
  “Why are you being like this, Daryl?”
  “I’m not bein’ like anything, I just wanna sleep!”
  “Why’d you call me back if you just want to sleep?”
  Daryl said nothing, but shuffled closer to the wall, away from me. Neither of us said anything for a few minutes.
  “Why’re you still here?”
  “I don’t really know.”
  “Well, go then.”
  I sighed and wrung my hands together. “Can I stay here tonight?”
  “No.”
  “I’ll sleep on the top bunk, you won’t even notice me.”
  “No.”
  “Oh, come on, it’ll be like a sleepover!” I said, standing up and starting to clamber up onto the bed above Daryl’s.
  “I said no, Y/N!” Daryl was out of bed within seconds, and his fingers were rough on my hips as he forcibly pulled me away from the bed. I stumbled and fell backwards into his arms. He held me for a fraction of a second, though it felt like longer. I could feel his quick, warm breath against the back of my neck and his arms tightened around me. And then, just as suddenly as it had started, it was over. Daryl let go of me and stepped back, and I almost lost my balance again.
  “Fine then,” I said, trying to sound calm, but my voice broke and I could feel tears in my eyes. I wiped my eyes clumsily with my arm, and made to storm out the room. When I had a hand on the curtain, Daryl grabbed hold of my hips again.
  He pulled me back into the cell, then turned us around and pushed me up against the wall. His face was inches from mine, and I could see the faint shimmer of moonlight in his eyes. Then his lips were on mine.
  Two months of thinking that Daryl thought of me as only a friend — sometimes not even that, he was so distant — and now this was happening. I was in disbelief. Happy, yes, but in a disbelieving kind of way. I deepened the kiss, and moved my right hand to the small of his back. Daryl’s hands travelled up my body and ended up gently cupping my cheeks. I didn’t think I’d ever experienced Daryl doing something gently until now. ‘Gentle’ was almost the exact opposite of Daryl Dixon. Or at least that’s what I’d thought.
  Eventually, the kiss had to end for us to breathe.
  “Okay,” I whispered. “Not gonna lie, I wasn’t expecting that.”
  “Yeah, well, me neither.”
  “Glad to know we’re on the same page.”
  “Yep,” Daryl said, just before kissing me again. He shuffled backwards, taking me with him, and then pushed me down onto the bed. He climbed on top of me, and just as he was about to kiss me again, he froze.
  “What’s wrong?” I murmured, lifting a hand to brush against his cheek.
  He jerked his head away and stood up, backing away and leaning against the wall. He refused to look at me, having eyes only for the floor.
  “Daryl, what the hell is wrong with you? One minute you’re blowing me off, the next we’re making out, and then you’re like this again! You’re sending me all these mixed signals and I don’t know what to think!”
  I sat up and crossed my arms.
  “I don’t want people to think I’m no cradle robber.”
  I blinked. That was the last thing I’d been expecting him to say. I’d never really thought about our age difference before; after all, what was 20-odd years between friends? I guessed things were different now.
  “That’s what you’re thinking about?”
  “Yeah?”
  “It’s not a big deal, Daryl.”
  “It is to me.”
  “Why? Since when have you cared about what other people think of you?”
  “Since I realised that all these people just fuckin’ tolerate me! The only reason they let me stick around is because I can hunt and shoot and shit! Do you think they’ll still put up with me when they find out I’m fuckin’ some chick 20 years younger than me?”
  “I don’t think age differences are at the front of people’s minds right now,” I muttered, glossing over the fact that he’d just referred to me as ‘some chick’. I put it down to the heat of the moment.
  Daryl rubbed his eye with his fist and sniffed dejectedly. “I like you, Y/N. Just… I feel safe here too, and I don’t want that all to go to shit.”
  This was the most emotion and feeling I’d ever seen from him, but I still thought he was being an idiot.
  “You do realise the others don’t even have to know, right? At least not right away.”
  “Mm.”
  “Are you gonna stop this or am I gonna have to leave?”
  He shrugged.
  “Daryl, listen to me. I get why this bothers you, I do. But I honestly don’t think it will bother anyone else. The people at this prison are our friends, and I doubt an age gap would have been an issue to them pre-apocalypse, let alone post. If you want, I’ll put together a survey and then we can find out what everyone thinks before we tell them.”
  He exhaled sharply, in what I think may have been a laugh. “That might be a little suspicious.”
  “Yeah, it might be, but it’s important research to reassure you, so I don’t care.”
  “… Thanks, Y/N”
  With a few more convincing words, Daryl had the hint of a smile on his lips. I pressed one kiss to his cheek, and another to his lips.
  “I’ll see you in the morning,” I said.
  “What do you mean?”
  “Uh… I’m going to bed and when we both wake up we’ll probably see each other?”
  “After all that you’re gonna give up on the sleepover thing?”
  “You want me to stay?” I said happily.
  “Yeah,” Daryl replied, after only the smallest hesitation.
  It was a tight fit for the two of us on Daryl’s bunk, but we managed it. With his arm draped over my waist, his nose nuzzled in my hair, and a promise from me to go back to my cell just before 6 a.m. so no one would see me coming out of his (we would let them find out eventually, but not just yet), we drifted into a dreamless, peaceful sleep.
  I even convinced him to take his boots off.

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Taken from @ darylcuddles on tumblr! Go check her page out!
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