Daryl Dixon one-shots

Protective

POV: Daryl taking care Oof you, when you get injured.

Y/N stumbled into the bathroom, her hand pressed against her side. She had been on a run with when she was ambushed by a group. She had managed to fight them off, but not before one of them had taken a chunk out of her side.

She leaned against the sink, trying to catch her breath. She could feel blood seeping through her fingers, and she knew she needed to tend to her wound before it got any worse.

Just then, Daryl burst into the bathroom. "You ok?" he asked, his voice urgent.

Y/N shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. "I don't know," she said. "It hurts so bad."

Daryl didn't hesitate. He lifted her up by the waist and placed her on the sink, his hands gentle but firm. He took her face in his hands, his eyes searching hers.

"I'm gonna take care of you, ok?" he said, his voice low and soothing. "Just breathe. You're gonna be okay."

Y/N nodded, her eyes closing. She could feel Daryl's hands moving over her body, checking for other injuries. She felt safe with him, like nothing could hurt her as long as he was there.

He tore off a piece of his shirt and pressed it against her wound, his hands steady. "Hold this here," he said. "I'm gonna get some supplies."

He disappeared for a moment, and when he came back, he had a first aid kit in his hands. He worked quickly, cleaning her wound and stitching it up with a steady hand.

Y/N watched him, her eyes wide. She had never seen him like this before, so focused and gentle. She felt a warmth spreading through her body, a feeling of safety and comfort.

When he was done, he wrapped her up in a blanket and held her close. "You're gonna be ok," he said, his voice soft. "I won't let anything happen to you."

Y/N closed her eyes, her head resting on his chest. She felt safe in his arms, like nothing could hurt her as long as he was there. She knew that she had found someone she could trust, someone who would always be there for her.