#twd fic series

[lunajay33]

Insecure🖤

Summary: Carl and y/n were always attached at the hip, so when Carl got shot and was starting to distant himself she was getting worried, but little did Carl know was that y/n wouldn’t ever stop loving him just because of the way he looked

Pairing: Carl Grimes x f!reader

A/n: This was a request for @anabort hope you like it!!

•Masterlist•

When I heard Carl was shot it felt like my heart shriveled with pain, when the walkers where gone from the town I ran over to the infirmary but Michonne came out stopping me

“Michonne please let me see him” I said tears running down my face

“I can’t” she said holding me back

“Why not? Let me go”

“He doesn’t want you to see him” that stopped my fussing

“But will he be okay?” I asked just needed to know if he’s alright

“He’ll be okay just…..just give him time sweetie”

“Please just……..just tell him I love him” I said leaving to go back home, the room I shared with Carl felt empty now without him, him usually lying on the bed reading or us cuddling and joking around now….now it was just quiet and cold

It went on like this for a week, he did come home and stayed at the infirmary, I kept asking to see him, this was the longest I’ve gone without seeing him in well……forever, growing up next to Carl meant we could hang out everyday so when the world ended and my parents were killed he made sure not to leave without me, along the way we fell for each other, we’d take little glances at each other in the prison or we’d go on walks around the court yard together, then when the prison fell he didn’t let go of my hand the whole fight he made sure we wouldn’t be separated, I was there for him when he was grieving Judith and well everyone just like he was there for me when my parents died, then on the road after terminus we spent every night cuddled together telling each other how much we adored and loved one another, so when we got to Alexandria we got privacy to show each other that love to grow our relationship but now…..now I’m alone and Carl is there in that infirmary in pain and all I want to do is try and make him feel loved and just comfort him

I pulled myself together, I put on carls favourite blue shirt I wore and a pair of jean shorts, freshening myself up and spraying a vanilla perfume Carl once found me on a run

I walked over to the infirmary not taking no for an answer today, I needed to be near him, I got there opening the door to see a curtain spread across half the room

Michonne and Rick came out with the same pity look as they did every day this week

“You know you can’t be here” Rick said sadly

“No, I need to be with him please, I can’t bare to be alone anymore, I need to know he’s okay…….please” I said my lip trembling as my heart felt colder every second I didn’t see him

“Let her in” I heard his voice from behind the curtain as Rick and Michonne stepped aside so I could enter

I pulled back the curtain seeing him sat up against the head board of the bed, his head was down and turned away but I could still see the gauze wrapped around his head, I sat on the edge of the bed as close to him as I could

“Carl I missed you so much, are you okay” I asked as I laid my hand ontop of his

“I don’t want you to see me like this but….i missed you too” he said his voice laced with that sadness that broke me to pieces

“Carl there’s nothing that would change me from loving you, nothing at all” I said tracing my fingers gently over his check so he would look at me

“I’m hideous, how could you still love me” he said as he finally looked at me tears gathering in his water line

“How could you, the Carl Grimes ever be hideous, you know how sexy I think you are plus this patch kinda makes you look like a hot pirate or something, you’re still my Carl and I still love you” I said as I saw his lip rise in a little smile as his cheeks reddened

“Really you’re fine with it?”

“I’m more than fine with it, no please come home, I miss you……a lot”

“Oh really?”

“Yes the bed is cold without you love”

“Well let’s go home and you can show me just how sexy you think I still am” he said bringing back that Carl grimes awful flirting but I loved it none the less because he was back with me now

Taglist: @carlsdarling

#twd fanfiction #carl grimes series #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes smut #carl grimes fic #carl grimes imagine #carl grimes fanfiction #twd carl #carl grimes #carl grimes x you #twd fic

[starshipsofstarlord]

lap girl (5)

summary. y/n and daryl are seated on the couch in their home, however there’s only one problem; he’s in her spot. he’s happy enough to move so that she can be comfortable, but his girl has a better idea

warnings. sensory issues, cuddling, fluff

divider credits. @cafekitsune

It wasn’t something that deterred y/n often, but after a stressful run in with a parade of Wolves outside of the walls, she liked things to be in their rightful place, it was how she felt safest. She was calm in the company of her beloved marksman, however she chewed rigidly at her nails, a habit that she had adapted from spending so much time with Daryl, as she watched him out of the corner of her eye.

Their arrangement on the couch wasn’t at all organised, Daryl had his feet kicked up on the mahogany coffee table that the Alexandrians had thought to be an important piece of central decor, the tacky mud from his boots sullenly scuffing in a clinging fashion on the corners. He was obsoletely comfortable in his position, however y/n was not.

Her eyes were screwed up in a consuming, frustrated haste, wrapping her arms around herself as she fought off the mental need to throw the man that she was commuted to the rugged floor so she could have the side of the sofa he was currently occupying. “Wha’s wrong sunshine? Ya cold?” Daryl was always endearingly sweet, and it often times made y/n swoon, however it felt like there was sugar sticking to her teeth from the sickening need to be in one of her comfort spaces.

She’d feel like a fool however if she were to voice the unimportant and brash discourse that her form was experiencing, she would feel like even more of one. “No.” Her tone was light and almost startled as she curled further into herself, and Daryl was quick to follow in noticing that she wasn’t herself. Even though this had been her home through the charity from Deanna they had been grateful for, the archer could visibly see that she was tense.

“I’m in your spot, aren’t I?” When he had crashed tiredly on the couch, he hadn’t thought of anything but relaxing to some degree. Y/n’s face reflected shock; she had never once told him that, but after all her partner in more than just crime was a tracker, he was very attentive to his surroundings, and that included her daily habits. His arm reached to the arm as he began to move, however y/n stopped him, reaching her palm out and placing it stiffly on his side.

“Stay there, I have a better idea.” She ordered, inspired by the image that transpired through her mind, as she unsettled herself from her stagnant position, crawling upon the plushness of the couch, as she clambered with ordinary vigilance onto Daryl’s lap. She made sure that her legs were curled around his hips, as her ass settled into the beginning of her lover’s thighs, arms tightening around his shoulders as she pressed her face into the warmth of his throat. “This is much better.” His girl spoke, her lips tiredly moving against Daryl’s neck as she spoke.

“Yeah, it is.” Daryl remarked in agreement, as he held her close, one of his large palms soothing the ache that trailed over her entire back as he moved it up and down the surface. With his opposing hand, he laid it to rest on the back of her calf, rotating his fingers in small circles on the scratchy denim that concealed her legs. He could stay like this all night, all he had to know was that his girl was comfortable, then he was happy enough not to move, she could lull off to a closed eyed rest, and regain some of the strength that she had lost whilst dancing with the enemy.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon series #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon fic #twd x reader #twd x you #twd x y/n #twd imagine #twd oneshot #twd fanfiction #twd fic

[zombiewhor3]

CAMP

daryl dixon x fem reader .

WARNINGS: reader is of age, fem masurbation, caught masturbation, breast play, oral sex (fem receiving), fluid consumption (cum only), penetrative sex, teasing, begging, praise, slight handjob, after care

she sat on the edge of the garden looking to see Carol and the scruffy redneck speaking to a small teenage boy, one with glasses and was quite scrawny, it was a person she had often seen hanging around Carl and a few other kids while she helped Carol at story time.

She could see them talking barely even being able to pick up on the conversation from her distance sitting on the garden bed, she could hear a few murmurs and well a few scraps of words but her mind focused on something other than their words.

She had watched Daryl lick his fingers clean before shaking the scrawny boy's hand, she muttered a softness of profanity underneath her breath wishing she could relive the moment she just saw.

his muscles flexed as he roughly shook the kids hand, his tattoo on his shoulder blade was now visible from the shirt he had used his dagger on to cut the sleeves off.

She remembered watching him do it, she remembered watching his hands flex each time he was stripping the fabric from each arm of the shirt, she had stared at him the entire time he was sitting in their shared cell room.

He had noticed her staring out of the corner of his eye while he was cutting up his shirts? How could he not, he had eyed her while she licked her lips clean watching him hunched over breaking a sweat in the hot prison room, he didn't mind, he never did. He enjoyed her eyes gawking at him and following him wherever he went.

Daryl looked over at her staring this time it was even more blantant as she had her legs crossed squeezing each time she looked at him.

he watched her eyes trail down to the dirt splotches on her jeans as she acted like she had just been staring down at her lap the entire time instead of the tattered hunter.

he let a small smirk fly onto his mouth before using his hand to wipe it away, he hadn't needed Carol to ask questions about why he was smiling or who he was even smiling for.

he could see her get up as her face was a messed up rose tone almost like she was embarrassed or even flustered from just the graze from his eyes, and it was true. She couldn't help but get flustered even when he did the smallest of things.

She could feel a sense of flutters inside her chest whenever he looked at her, whenever his hand skimmed hers it was like an erotica she knew wasn't real, it was an erotic she had dreamt about one that she wished at the bottom of her heart hadn't just been a fantasy of hers.

she had gone back inside of their cell block wandering to their shared cell and closing not just the curtain but the door along with it, she had the keys rested on his workbench looking over at his shirt that had dangled off of the tampered metal.

she could feel a slight gush in her heart as she slipped her hands into her jeans feeling the wet spot he had caused in her panties just from looking at her, she slipped her hand into the cotton of her panties biting down on her lip as she used her middle finger to draw small circles over her needy clit.

she prayed he would be stuck on perimeter duty with glenn like usual, she couldn't help but run her mind over the way he had sucked his fingers off, or the way his muscles would flex as he lifted something or when he was out hunting how his ass would look so good in the patched up blue jeans he wore.

she let out a meek mewl on accident feeling as she pumped two fingers inside of her cunt, she bit down onto her lip even harder to try and keep the sound in.

but her soft squeals somehow managed to slip each time her fingers would curl hitting her g-spot just perfectly, she had been making sure to give the same amount of attention to her clit acting as if it weren't her fingers anymore but yet instead his.

She was thinking about how good he would've felt inside her, how well he would've finger fucked her until she was left raw and throbbing.

She was almost surely over her edge once she thought about the way he looked so fucking good in those shirts he had chopped up himself.

She had let out a soft moan before feeling her orgasm arise in her, just a few more spins of her fingers over her clit and she was surely to spill over the top, just thinking about the boy who slept above her each night.

He noticed the curtain and the door closed, which probably meant she was sleeping, he rattled his spare keys softly as he unlocked the door pulling back the curtain to see her with her head tossed back into the pillows biting down on her lip with her hand in her pants letting out a soft moan of his name.

"jesus christ" he murmured under his breath which had caught her attention making her pull her hand away from out of her jeans,

"i thought you were on a perimeter check!" she asked trying to hide her embarrassment from it all, she

"rick and maggie are doing it" he spoke calmly while closing his eyes as he held his hand over his crotch trying not to remember that he had heard his name being spilled from her mouth.

"i'm sorry daryl i really am" she stood up from the bed trying to walk past him but his hand stopped her.

"saw ya staring at me at breakfast and i know ya like it" he spoke pulling a piece of her hair back behind her ear watching her shiver, she nodded her head with a soft but yet mumbled 'mhm'

she wasn't sure whether he was toying with her let alone she hadn't had the right words to speak, instead she watched his eyes in a haze watching his pupils grow dark.

he let out a gruff laugh before forcing her eyes to look up at him, "why'd ya stop" he asked skimming his fingers over the waistband of her jeans feeling her body shiver, not a shiver of fear but yet a suspense she could feel building inside her.

she took a step so she could lay back on his bed watching him pull off his cut up shirt and his vest tossing it to center of his workbench, his hands fiddled at his belt before soonly tossing that off to, he kicked off his boots hearing them clatter to the floor.

his hands pressed into the mattress while he dangled above her, "what if the others hear us" she asked making sure she wouldn't be caught for the second time.

"all outside or doing their chores, tyresse offered to cover mine" he spoke watching as his hands glided up her torso to pull off her shirt, she let out a soft sigh of the relief from him unhooking her bra watching as her breasts rested and nipples grew hard.

he threw off her jeans looking down to see her panties, a wet spot had formed but now even bigger from his touch, he licked his lips before propping himself up with her body so that he could lick her breasts, she felt his tongue lick over each of her nipples making sure to give each of her breasts the same amount of attention,

she could feel his tongue drag itself slowly down before skimming past her navel, he nibbled at the fabric of her underwear taking in the smell of the fresh cotton, she let out a gasp feeling his fingers remove the fabric from her body tucking them into his pocket,

"bet ya taste so fuckin good" he spoke watching as her hips bucked in a gushful manner, almost like she was dying for him to taste her,

she let out a meek whine as she was already starting to tangle her fingers in his scruffy hair, she loved the feeling of it running through the skin of her fingers as it tickled her palm.

His tongue licked up one clear stripe against her cunt making him hold onto her hips forcing them to stay down surely leaving bruises on them with his thumbs,

he continued to suck gently, swirling his tongue around her clit making her jump softly almost bucking like a wild stallion if it weren't for his grip on her.

She could feel him murmur something against her dripping cunt, his words had sent a shriveling vibration throughout her core,

she let out a mumble of profanity once more feeling his tongue flick over her clit moving so fast that she could already feel the knot in her stomach starting to loosen.

"oh god daryl" she moaned softly squeezing her thighs around his head so that she could get more of him, his tongue grazed over her hole making her jump slightly, "taste so fuckin good" he mumbled against her just loud enough for her to hear,

she felt like she was dancing in the stars from his tongue, her cunt felt weak falling into him like she was ready to give him everything,

"dar i'm gonna cum" she whimpered gripping onto his shoulders, now he was only flicking and sucking faster just so he could watch her topple over the edge like she had done before.

he could feel a river of juices gush onto her face as he completed his goal, he had made sure to try and lick up every worthy drop that had spilled from her needy cunt,

"oh god" she mumbled as her eyes stayed glued to the man licking his fingers in-front of her, she could feel a flutter shoot up though her body as she prayed this all wasn't some sick dream where she'd be left in a puddle of her own wetness from the dream.

he slipped down his jeans to see the tented black boxers, his cock was practically begging to be broken free, she could feel him twitch softly as her hands ran down him to slip off his boxers,

she ran her thumb over his cock, he was long and quite thick it made her shutter as she wiping some of the pre-cum onto the pad of her thumb licking it clean earning a lick from his lips as he watched her.

just before pumping her hands around him he let out a sputtered gasp while stopping her, he liked the sensation but he needed a stronger one, one like her tight cunt that would fill the missing lust in his void.

she could feel him stop her while his hands pushed down on her hips pushing her back down into the thin mattress below them, his thumbs spun circles against her hip bone as he had thought about tasting her sweet cunt again, but instead he was placing a delicate trail of hickies just above her navel.

she mumbled something as she felt his shoulder blades flex as her hands gripped onto them, "need ya so bad" he murmured against the skin he had been delicately marking.

she whined pressing her hands further into him as she grew even needier for his touch, he could tell she was eager by the way her hips bucked and the sweet whines slipping off her tongue, every sound she made, made his cock twitch almost like he was just as eager to feel the walls built around her.

The tip of his cock had been smeared in her juices as he teased her wet slit, he could feel the warm soak into him as he let out a soft sigh wanting to shove her full of him.

her hands gripped at the flimsy cheap white linen messily placed on the bed, she could feel him lean down just so he could whisper something to her just so he could ask her to beg for him,

"tell me watcha need sweetheart" he spoke slipping a piece of her hair behind her ear, he could hear a whine come from in-between her lips but that wasn't enough he needed to hear her say it,

he pulled his cock away from her slit finally hearing her speak up, "i need you dar please" she whimpered feeling as his cock slid in perfectly inside of her pussy, he reached out to grab her hand once he heard her let out a soft hiss from his size.

he could feel her soaked walls already having an impact on him, her mouth laid agape while she could feel some of his hair dangle down onto her face sending a shiver through her,

"oh god move please" she begged at him feeling as he started off slow pressing down into her hand as he felt her nails at the top of his hand sending a slight sharp prickle through the skin,

he thrusted faster feeling her body fit like a glove onto his cock, he could hear her cry out as she wrapped her legs around his bag lifting them up higher so she could feel him deeper in her.

he let out a grunt against the crook of her neck feeling her call out his name again, "daryl" she cried using her other hand to dig into the mattress feeling as the pressure built up in her.

"god ya cry so fuckin pretty" he mumbled into her as she could feel her walls clench around his member making him shudder while he used most of his force to thrust himself into her.

she let out a loud series of moans, so loud she was sure the entire damn prison inside and out must've heard them, he should've covered her mouth to keep the noise down but hearing her moans and cries was to good, to good for him to keep away.

he sucked on the tender skin of her jawline feeling her gulp as she squeezed down on his hand, "oh god i'm so close" she whimpered at him feeling him increase his pace, as their wet hips collided he was letting out his own trail of noises against her.

once satisfied with his work on her jawline he lifted himself up just enough so that he could see her eyes clench and see the pretty mouth that had been letting out all the noises,

she could feel the knot in her stomach wanting to untie itself from her core, it wanted to spill out onto his cock and make itself a mess all for him to take in.

she could feel the knot hanging by a thread as she used both of her hands to claw at his back leaving small crescent shapes from her nails in his skin, he groaned feeling her nails pierce her but yet he liked the sensation, the feeling of being so close to her.

she was cock drunk a moaning mess unable to keep herself under control now she was blubbering and whining his name while she bucked up her hips feeling him use of his hands to grope at her breasts before speaking to her.

"c'mon baby cum for me" he whispered rubbing his hand over each of her nipples to divide the attention to both, she could feel the hot gush of her juices pouring onto his abdomen while he had filled her with his own fluid.

she had let out a loud noise just before she came but the aftermath was almost quiet except for her panting and soft cries, she could feel his cock pull out of her with a pop sound making her gasp as she closed her eyes from her sensitivity.

He had slipped on his boxers while looking over at her,

he could hear her soft cries making his brows furrow sadly while he reached for a bottle of water and a small rag from his work bench, he poured some water on the rag before using it to wipe her thighs and up to her cunt clean feeling her jump when he skimmed her clit.

he looked at the mess of hickies on her body, from her jawline, to down above her hips, he rubbed his hand over them before reaching into her bag pulling out a pair of shorts and panties, he helped to slip them on her hearing her mumble a thank you as his shirt was slipped over her.

he let her use his chest as a resting spot while he pulled some of the sweaty hair from out of her face, her thighs skimmed together making her whine softly and with a soft shush from him he brought her body even closer to his.

"ya alright sugar" he could feel her body faintly nod against him, "did i fuck ya to sleep almost" he chuckled feeling her hand run over his abdomen, with another nod she yawned scooting closer to him.

"what's this mean daryl?"

she asked him feeling his fingers run through her hair to soothe her softly, "means i care about ya" he spoke, his answer was short and she couldn't stand the such shortness of his words.

she shifted before repeating herself to him, "means yer mine" he huffed back at her with a soft smile watching one appear on her face,

" night sugar"

"night dar"

#daryl fanfiction #daryl x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon #the walking dead #twd daryl #twd #twd smut #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fic #twd season 3 #twd series finale #twd spoilers #twd negan

[yevmarie]

Light My Fire | Masterlist

Plot: having lost everything you are drowned in depression, which had happened to you a year ago. Now you need to struggle with the apocalypse as well with no sparkle in your heart. But there is one man who can light your fire to live.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Pronouns: you, she/her

Warnings:

angst;

mentions of depression;

implied suicidal thoughts;

abuse;

swearing;

suggestive;

nudity;

smoking (by main character as well);

differences from the main plot may occur;

bad English (not my first language).

Additional warnings will be added in the course of new chapters.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8 [in progress]

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl dixon / reader #daryl dixon / you #daryl dixon x you #daryl / reader #daryl / you #daryl x you #daryl dixon fanfiction #Daryl dixon series #The Walking Dead #the walking dead series #the walking dead fic #twd #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #norman reedus #daryl dixon fanfic #twd daryl #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x y/n

[weretheones]

All You Got | Masterlist

Series Summary: Daryl Dixon hadn’t known much beyond anger and loneliness his whole life, until he found family at the end of the world. Everything he grew to care about was ripped away the day the prison fell; so when he recognized you, an enforcer of his loss, hiding in that cabin, he almost pulled the trigger. But after you end up saving his life, he couldn’t find the indifference to leave you for dead, even if you’d been on the Governor’s side. (Mid-Late Season 4) 

Paring: Eventual Daryl Dixon x Reader

AO3 Version 

Status: Ongoing; new part every Friday 

Part 1: All You Got 

Part 2: One Bullet

Part 3: The Desperate Type

Part 4: I Know It Well

Part 5: Liar

Part 6: If You Must

Part 7: Burning Out 

Part 8: Observant

Part 9: Bite My Tongue

Part 10: A Reminder 

Part 11: New Trails 

Part 12: What’s Left

Part 13: Strangers

Part 14: coming soon

and more... 

A/N: wow. I am so excited for this ✨ slow burn enemies to reluctant allies to friends to... well, you'll just have to read it ;) 

this is something I've been brainstorming for what feels like forever and im so happy to finally share it!!! I hope you all enjoy it as much as I have. a big thank you to my dear friends @normanplusdaryl and @theteasetwrites for listening to me rant and being my betas. love u both so so so much.

warnings will be chapter specific, although generally, this series will contain; swearing; violence; descriptions of injury/blood; character death; and other general TWD content. 

as for the posting schedule-- I am going to try my best to be consistent with posting new parts every Friday, starting Feb 10th. HOWEVER, I am in my final semester of university, am working and interning, and try to have a social life too lol. there might be some weeks where i’m a day or two late, maybe even longer. feel free to send an ask to check on when later parts are coming, but please be patient & understanding <3 

lastly, titles & number of parts are subject to change as I work through them. 

thank u guys <3 mwah mwah mwah! 

- madi 

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon x you #daryl x you #daryl dixon / reader #daryl dixon / you #daryl / you #daryl / reader #daryl dixon fic #twd #the walking dead #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #twd series #Daryl Dixon series #norman reedus #twd angst #twd oneshot #twd imagine #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon imagine #twd daryl #all you got

[thewritersaddictions]

Bases: Negan Smith- Chapter 1 Her

Pairing: Negan Smith x Fem!Reader

Pov: Negan

Warnings: boundaries push, touching, cocky comments, the walking dead, zombies, trigger warnings, almost dying, special treatment, the wives, jealousy, being saved; Simon mentioned a little bit, maybe Dwight too, and Negans wives. masturbation,

Summary: Negan meets you when you come to the sanctuary doors. Wary of you at first he takes to watching you, and boy does he get interested quickly.

A/n- @ firefly-graphics for dividers

WC- 3.2k

The Walking Dead Master List // The Wanderers Master List // Series Master List

Y/n tries to catch her breath, but she just can’t seem to. Everything around her is swaying with her every step. She feels the sun pour through the sky, and it just ends up beating her up as she walks in the middle of the road. Trees line each side, giving no shade for her overheating body. She walks until she hears the indicators of the walkers; the sound grows louder the more she wanders due North. She worries for a moment until she sees a tall building that probably used to be a factory before the world went to shit. Then the sound of cars, the sounds of people. 

People! She doesn’t care if she doesn’t have enough energy to get to the gates; she’ll push through the hoarse voice from no water for at least the past few nights and days. She’ll push until someone picks her up from the searing hot cement underneath her. She manages to make it to the gate; her face is flush, and she ends up waving down what looks like a post guard. “Do you know where you are, Miss?” It’s a guy no older or younger than she is before Y/n can answer though she’s collapsing to the ground. She’s worn herself out before just making it. 

There’s a knock at the door, which means some shit is happening that Simon or some other fucknut doesn’t know how to handle. The knock on the door is different, rushed, almost a worried knock. “Come in.” I don’t look up until the person starts to talk; like always, it’s Simon. “Boss, um, we’ve got a problem.” My brow arches as I stare at Simon with a deathly glare. “A problem?” It’s not really a question, and Simon knows it. He just nods, and we walk in steadfast with each other. Lucille sits over my left shoulder. People quickly advert their stare as we step outside in the blaring heat of the Georgia sun. 

There’s a small, growing crowd around something rather intriguing. “Move outta the way, dingbats,” Simon shouts rather loudly in my ear as I look into the center of the growing crowd. “What’s this?” I ask one of the guards. His gun is slung around his back, the nose of the sniper pointing towards the ground. “I’m not sure, Duke over there said this girl waved and then collapsed outside the gates.” More intrigue. “Let me see.” The crowd moves, giving me a perfect view of the ‘girl’ lying on the hot ground. “You,” I say, pointing with the bat's end cap. The guy, ‘Duke’ visible, swallows, “She um… she was running towards the gate, and tried to wave at me, but before she could answer any of my questions, she just knocked out, hit the ground pretty hard too, Sir.” The guy says. I move Lucille making room for me to bend to my knees and get a more impersonal look at the ‘girl’ layin’ on the ground. 

Her skin is red and peeling in some places on her face and shoulders. Her hair is out of her face. Her face looks almost hollow like she hadn’t had water in days, maybe weeks. But she’s wearing what looks like an excellent proper pair of boots and jeans, and the first thing I think of next is, “Did ja check for bites?” I ask the whole crowd, and the Duke guy answers again. “Already checked her out, nothing, no bites or anything, Sir.” He says; I motion for Simon to come over, “Why was this so fuckin’ important, huh Simon?” he glides a hand through his messy hair. “Cause I figured you want to say what happened to the girl.” Simon never really gave a shit, didn’t take orders to well, and somehow always managed to not fuck up but still fuck up my shit. 

“Yeah, dumbass take her to the damn doc. What the hell you waiting on me to say that for.” I mutter to myself as I watch the two post guards pick her body up stiffly. Causing the both of them to alost tumble over. I roll my eyes at the action. “Simon.” I shove the bats handle into his hand. “You tow lacklys, get back to work i’ve got her.” The inner monologue tells me that I know it will always be me who has to take care of the dark shit, the bad shit, and the good shit. Nobody else. Simon close behind me, as the women lay limp in my arms. 

She had yet to open her eyes as the cool air inside the sanctuary hit her cheeks, her arms, and any other exposed skin. She didn’t even rustle as I walked her limp body through the doorway. “Dr. Carson, you can stop whatever the fuck you’re doin’ now. Help this women here.” I set her down on the cot, her head falling back along with her hair into the shitty pillow provided in this makeshift ER. “What… What happened?” Dr. Carson wasn’t the village idiot by any means, but it would nice if for once I didn’t have to tell the damn idiot what happened and he could just go do his fucking job. “Carson, just do your fuckin’ job or I swear to the god that probably fucked off already I will make your postion available again.” He shook his head, and got to work. Simon handed Lucille back to me, as I took a seat in those uncomfortable waiting chairs. 

“Looks like she has some burns some serious” Carson said looking over at me. An arch brow, and he was on the way to solving the whole damn thing, “Nothing a little bit of antibotic cream can’t fix. She’s also very dehydrated, so I’ll need to get her pumped with some fuilds before she can… before she’s well enough to talk with you Sir.” Carson mumbled out, I nodded my head and started to turn out of the room. “You said she needs fluids.” Carson nods his head, as he goes to get bandages wraps for her burns. “Bring her to my room, we should show our new guest the best care, right Carson?” He nodded with angst. 

“Are you sure… Sir, do you think that’s the best course of action. We don’t even know where this fuckin’ lady is from” Simon as his ratty, trash talkin’ fucking mouth never shut the hell up sometimes. I turned quickly catching his normal leaned back attitude off guard. “I think you would know me by now Simon. It’s a game, it’s always a fuckin’ game.” Simon stood still for a moment, and then nodded. 

An hour later there was a knock on my bedroom door. “It’s Dr. Carson with the Jane Doe.” He said through the door. I rolled my eyes, the clink of the gin bottle hitting the glass table rang my ears as I got up opening the door. This time two much larger guard held the Jane Doe on a cot. Less prone for her fall and get even more hurt. “You said you wanted her here sir?” Carson asked as if the first time I said wasn’t good enough for him. I look over at the Jane Doe. Her shoulder all the way down to her arms are covered in the white bandages. Her face isn’t though which is nice. “Come on in then.” I open the door wide enough for the large men to walk her in and place her on the couch adjacent of the bed. “I’ll get some fluids going in her and then I can come back in a few…” I cut him off, “No need doc, I’ve got it from that point. Don’t need someone in and out of my fuckin’ room every couple of hours.” He nods his head vigorously. I know what I’m doing, and there’s more I wanna know about this mystery Jane Doe. 

“Well hello there sweetheart.” The women in front of me is opening her eyes. It took nearly two days to get to this point. For nearly two days I have extra patrol out making sure that nobody followed this young women here. No need to be gettin’ ambushed right now. Her eyes go wide and when she opens her mouth to talk nothing comes out. Her nails scrap at her throat. “You need something to drink?” I’m quick to get up and gather a glass of water for her. Her hands are clammy when they graze past mine to collect the cold cup of water. The needle in her arms ache I can tell just from the look on her face. “We’ll take that out later, but for now why don’t you not rush your recovery.” I said as soft as I can. She looks like someone just told her that the world was starting all over again. 

She clears her throat, and for the first time I hear her voice. It’s angelic is a soft, fairy sort of way. “Where am I?” She ask looking around the room. “A settlement, the Sanctuary.” She looks over at me, beautiful eyes shining back at me. For the first time it’s odd to around a women who isn’t appalled by me, or faking it all together. She pure, and innocent in so many moldable ways. “I promise that i’ll be out of your hair before you even know that I was here.” She promises me, I humm. Then look over at her fluid drip, and the bandages on her body. “I was thinkin’ that you could stay here for a while. At least get yourself settled before you go back out in that hot Georgia sun. 

“So Miss Jane Doe, do you got a name?” I ask her as my words sink into her head. She clears her throat again taking another large gulp of water to coat her throat. “My name is um…Y/n.” She says with a little smile. “And you wer travelin’ alone out there?” I ask her, “Yeah.” She says nodding, she looks far of into the distance staring up at one of the ceiling tiles. As if she’s remembering someone she’s lost. I clear my own throat bringing her attention back to me. “I’ve ask that the doc, keep you here in my room. I wouldn’t suggest that you go out right now. Dr. Carson and I agree that you’re a little too fragile for that eveiormnet right now.” I said coaxing her into a choice she had no say in. She nodded, “My pack?” She asks, “I almost forgot.” I reach behind the coch she’s laying on. “Thanks.” She says with a small smile, and once more our hands graze each others. 

Hours later after a rather a surface level introduction with Y/n about where she came from, why she didn’t have anything other then a knife, and what the Sanctuary was about. There’s a soft knock on the door. It causes Y/n to shiver with anxiety. “It’s alright sweetheart, don’t worry about anyone trying to get ya.” “Can I come in, Negan?” I know that damn voice, Frankie. I boil over with anger and before I can get to the damn door Frankie is opening it. A sliky black dress drapped over her frame. I catch Y/n out of the corner of my eye; staring and watching the interaction between the two us. “Negan, I haven’t seen you in a few days…” Frankie stops short in her sentence. Scwoling at Y/n, as if she understands what the hell is going on either of them. “Frankie, go. I have a guest.” I say strongly grabbing her bicep and pushing her out of the room. 

The slam of door makes Y/n shriek, and when i turn to look at her she’s got her head cocked. “Who was that?” She asks timidly. “A… um… it’s just Frankie.” I finally manage to mumble out. “When was the last time you had a good bed to lay down in?” I ask in deperate need to change the subject. I don’t know just yet how to explain the wives to her, but then again when have I ever felt the need to explain myself to anyone. I push the feeling away, bury it in my stomach. Deep down. She shifts swinging her legs to the edge of the couch. She’s got pretty long legs even from the thick jean material that hid them. “I’d say at least since the first or second month of this shit.” I huff a laugh out, “Well how about this sweetheart. I’m gonna take this IV out, and patch you all up so you can get a good nights rest.” “But what about…” I shake my head. “I’ll take the couch, it’s been a while since I’ve booted to the couch anyways.” I jokingly say. 

Carson had left a few supplies here for me whenever Y/n was going to wke up so I could remove the IV, and bandage her up. As I do her skin is soft as least not where she’s been wrapped up with bandages. “So what was wrong with me?” She asks as she stares at my working hands. “You got a hell of a sunburn all up and down your shoulder and arms. Some antibiotic cream should fix ya up real quick.” I tell her, “And plus you were super fuckin’ dehydrated, what the hell were you doing running a fuckin’ marathon?” She giggles at my question as I tape down the gauze to make sure the blood doesn’t leak into anything. 

“Do you have extra clothes in that pack of yours?” I ask Y/n, she looks down and dig around. A minutes passes, and another, “Look mary poppins I don’t think there’s anything else the damn bag.” I might be getting a little frastrated, “So I’d take that as a no.” She nods her head. I whip myself around. Shifting through draws and a small closet of my clothes. “For tonight you can borrow somethin’ of mine. Sweats, and a long t-shirt so your bandages don’t come off during the night, Sweethearts.” I say passing her the clothes. Y/n stares down at them, and she get a little shy, well a lot shy. Bitting and pulling on her bottom lip. “Bathroom is over here sweetheart.” I watch as she walks towards the bathroom, and then the door shuts. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask myself. Dragging my hands down my face. There’s a shuffle from behind the bathroom door. “All good in there?” I ask, willing my voice not to break. I feel like a high school kid all over again with a stupid high school crush. “Um…” her voice sounds so tiny behind the door. “I don’t think this is gonna work.” She says shyly through the door. I stand to open the door, but she does before I can manage it. My long sleeve is loose on her frame, and the sweats don’t even take on her hips, but I guess that’s alright since the long sleeve is so big on her it acts as a dress. “That’s all good doll, how about I help ya get to bed.” I say reaching out my hand for her to grab. 

Yet again her hands are baby soft, like she’s never been outside a day in her life. No broken calluass, or rough patches. With our hand interlocked I walk her to the side of the bed. Moving the sheets back so she can easily get under the covers. She isn’t graceful about the plop down the bed. “A water bed!?” She asks, I actually laugh, “I wish sweetheart!” As Y/n shifts her legs to get under the covers and onto my side of the bed. I get a flash of her pink worn panties. 

I have to swallow down the groan of sexual frautration, maybe I should have taken Frankies offer. Pushed her outside the door, and fucked her stupid mouth shut. I shake my head, and I watch as Y/n starts to get snuggled into the cool fabric. I don’t grab the other pillow fromthe bed, I just make my way towards the couch. Cleaning up the medial mess I made earlier. I lean back into the coch, closing my eyes and all I can see is the pink panites. The coarse hair that prickled to come through the fabtic.

My cock stirs to life in my tights blue jeans. I can’t see Y/n’s face due to the dim lights in the room, but her snores are a good alert that’s she fast asleep. I close my eyes again and the flash of her nipples through the old shirt of mine makes me swallow down a moan. A hard on from a girl I know nothing about, a fuckin high school kid. All I can think of is the pink pussy that lays behind the pink panties, the tits that would bounces as I fucked her raw. I unzip my jeans, and pop my hard cock from my boxers. 

The tip is leaking pre-cum that I end up just using as lube. Pumping myself slowly at first until my eyes fall shut and all I can imagine is the sounds that Y/n would make when I fucked her up agaisnt the headboard. Or how good her pussy probably tasted. My cock is coated with my pre-cum, and so is my hand. The sounds are delicious, the sound of the squelching as the soft pad of my thumb over over the head of my cock and I end up just a pile of fuck, shits, and graons as I come all over my chest. 

“Fuck.” My breath is ragged, I haven’t come that since I was much younger and a whole lot ballsier. I throw my shirt off my shoulder and wipe down my tummy, and chest. Discarding the ruined shirt to a pile of other thrown clothes.

Completed on: 08/10/23

Posted on: 08/12/23

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[theteasetwrites]

The Wrinkle

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 9/10 Interim (The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning series) ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: very vaguely sexual if you squint (just some kissing and a butt grab) ❧ Word Count: 1.3k

❧ Summary: Aging is a natural part of life, but when you notice a wrinkle, it's hard not to be a little sad. Your husband, however, reminds you that you're still just as beautiful, and so is your wrinkle.

❧ A/N: Another oneshot that takes place in the same universe as my series because I am procrastinating writing the last chapters 😀 (but tbh this fic also works as a standalone piece because I didn't really reference anything that happens in the series). I just want to keep writing for them forever, you know? Anywho, I was inspired by all the anti-aging talk on social media I've been seeing lately. People have always been obsessed with looking young, and skincare companies often profit off that insecurity, which is something I've been thinking about a lot. I haven't seen anything where the Reader is a little insecure about her aging, so why not write a comfort fic about that? Aging is beautiful, btw. 💕

Honey, olive oil, aloe, oats…

You’d tried everything, every natural ingredient you could get your hands on. Every moisturizer you made seemed to work on some level—your skin was always soft, at least. The dryness was quenched, and, most importantly, you were happy with your face, for perhaps the first time in your life. 

Happy, until one night, you saw it. 

“Oh, God,” you gasped, leaning over the bathroom sink as you rubbed in your moisturizer just the same way you did every night. Tonight, though, was different. By the light of the lantern you’d placed on the shelf beneath the mirror, you saw the smallest sliver of a… You couldn’t even bear to think of the word. 

It was a line, near the outer corner of your eye. It curved downwards slightly, representing the movement of your cheek when you smiled. Only now, you weren’t smiling. You were frowning in disappointment at the image in the mirror. How could you be getting crow’s feet at this age? You were still young, weren’t you? Aren’t I? 

“Everythin’ okay in there?” Daryl’s voice called out from the bedroom, just beyond the door. “Been in there a while, hon.”

“Fine.” Not fine. “Just moisturizing.” Lots of good it does.

“Well, hurry up, woman,” he teased. “I gotta take a piss.”

You scoffed, turning the copper knob of the door with a slippery, oily hand. “Come in,” you sighed. “I’m almost done anyway.” You turned back to face the mirror, dabbing another few fingertips worth of moisturizing cream. 

He shook his head as he watched you meticulously massaging the concoction until it was completely absorbed by your skin. It was always a fascinating sight. He never understood it completely, but just as you allowed him to engage in his interests, he allowed you yours. Still, he couldn’t help but think sometimes you cared too much about looking pretty, when to him, you didn’t need to put any effort in at all. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said, placing a rather drawn out kiss upon your shoulder, where the skin was exposed by your thin strapped nightie. His hand rubbed your other shoulder, taking his opportunity to feel how naturally soft you were, even without moisturizer. 

You offered a reluctant smile as you looked back at him in the mirror. “Thank you… I don’t feel like it.”

Now that baffled him. You’d never been very confident in yourself, he knew that. You were alike in that way. It was tiresome for him, though. He knew your beauty better than anyone, and for you to not see it was heartbreaking. Then again, you felt the same way when he refused to accept his beauty. You were both much too humble for your own good.

Still behind you, he swept back a handful of your hair, revealing the supple flesh of your neck. “Why not?” he asked, then gave himself the pleasure of tasting your neck with his gentle, slightly ticklish lips. That always made you feel better. Usually.

“I—I… just found a wrinkle.”

Detaching his lips, he looked up at you to furrow his brow. As he searched your face, each curve and line so familiar to him, he couldn’t see anything had changed. 

“What’re you talkin’ ‘bout, girl?”

You reached over to turn up the flame in the lantern, brightening the small bathroom. “Look.” You pointed to the spot just at the corner of your eye. “A little wrinkle, right by my eye.”

Squinting didn’t help. He leaned forward, still trying to see what the hell you were so worried about. Finally, he pinpointed the vague, shallow line, almost more like a little shadow that stood on its own. It was hardly anything to him.

“Pfft,” he scoffed. “That ain’t a wrinkle.” He ran his hand through the hair on his scalp to pull back his bangs, putting his face completely on display for you. “You wanna see wrinkles? Looky here.”

Only Daryl could make you snort when you felt like feeling sorry for yourself. “Stop,” you laughed. “You hardly have any wrinkles. Besides, you’re older than me anyway. I’m only thirty-two.”

“Yeah,” he said. “And you got no damn wrinkles. Even if ya did, you’d still be a stone cold fox, so just believe me when I say you’re the most beautiful damn woman in the world, okay?” 

Though you were sure you’d never believe that, it did feel terribly good to know Daryl still found you attractive. It was ingrained in you to want, to need, approval from men, and it took you a long time to get out of that mindset. Hell, it was still there to an extent, but Daryl was the only man whose approval you cared about now, only because you knew he’d never break your heart or take advantage of that trust you put in him.

“Daryl,” you laughed, your cheeks filled with a hot blush at his words. “Thank you, but—”

When his hands cupped your cheeks, his gaze softened, as if to make sure you knew what he was doing. Of course, you did. He kissed you, his lips enjoying the taste of your natural moisturizer. A small whimper from you melted into his mouth like candy on his tongue, while your arms tangled loosely around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer to you. 

You always loved the feeling of his warm, strong hands upon your hips, gently squeezing the soft flesh there. He’d often lower his right hand, using it to squeeze your bottom, always making you squeak softly against his lips. 

“Oh!” you laughed. He was so predictable. “Stop it!” You playfully slapped at his bare chest, with little to no strength in your flimsy hands. Because he knew you weren’t serious, he squeezed a little more, causing you to stand on your tippy toes and gasp a little more. If anyone could distract you from your little insecurities, it was Daryl. 

His lips poked at every little spot of skin on your face, which was scrunched up in faux annoyance. Your laugh, and your wide, toothy grin, were proof enough that his wild, impromptu kisses and less than innocent bottom-squeezes were working like a charm. 

“What am I gonna do with you, angel?” he asked, his lips becoming tired and his mouth beginning to downturn in a sudden expression of seriousness. His weather-worn fingers lifted your hair from your face, pinning it back behind your ears. There was an unmistakable hurt in his eyes. Only you knew the extent of his sensitivity, his ability to feel what you felt. When you told him that you don’t feel beautiful, it killed him. “What do I gotta do to make ya see how perfect you are?”

You sighed as you watched your own hands absentmindedly rub his broad shoulders, the smattering of freckles all over them always a comfort to you. Many nights you’d lay in his arms, just counting them as his low, gravelly voice lulled you into a deep, warm sleep. 

“Just hold me,” you said. “That makes me feel beautiful, being close to you.”

That smile of his always melted you, had you like putty in his hands. It was small and a little lopsided, and you could only see a sliver of his wide, slightly jagged teeth, but it was like your life force. Seeing him smile, seeing him happy, for just one minute, meant everything to you. Of all people you’d ever met, he deserved, more than anyone, to be happy. That was your job. 

“All right, pretty girl.” He pulled you close once again to press a small kiss to your forehead. “I’ll hold ya.” Just like he did every night. Still, you could never get enough of it.

“But first,” he added, letting go of you, “I gotta take a piss.”

He was always so romantic.

~

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Masterlist

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fic #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #twd fanfic #twd #twd fanfiction #norman reedus #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus fanfic #norman reedus x reader #the beginning series #theteasetwrites oneshot #theteasetwrites fanfiction

[eegnm]

Its been 9 years and im still fighting in the Caryl trenches

⏬️Alternative Version⏬️

#joking i actually enjoy their dynamic even if its just platonic #twd nostalgia flared up #read some good (unfinished whyy) fics #daryl sophia dynamic isnt something i knew i needed but i do #carol petelier #daryl dixon #sophia peletier #the walking dead #caryl #carol x daryl #my art #i used to have watch parties with friends for this show it was so much fun #but why the fuck are they doing a daryl show in PARIS??? HELLO?? howd he get therreeee #i saw carol has a bow in later season and i yoinked that shit without watching them best decision i ever made #fic that mainly inspired this is the there is nothing lost that may be fond if sought series by iliveatlast

[ficnation]

Chapter 2

Series: The Cockroach

Word count: 2,2k+

Pairings: Negan Smith x Reader; Lucille Smith x Reader; Negan Smith x Lucille Smith

Warnings: usual twd themes

A/n: Let me know what you think about this series! I really hope you enjoyed the first two chapters ☺️

If you're not on the taglist but would like to be tagged let me know!

☁️ Main Masterlist ☁️

☁️ “The Cockroach” Masterlist ☁️

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

“This is your emergency broadcast system announcing a message from the government,” the feminine voice on the radio spoke, making your ears perk up. “As of two hours ago, the President of the United States of America has declared a state of emergency, and we ask that all residents be ready for evacuation at any time.”

You resisted the urge to continue slurping the burning hot tea in order to hear the mysterious announcement. In your mind, you tried to guess what the fuss was all about.

“A curfew will shortly begin. If you have not been evacuated by midnight, all citizens are to report immediately to their homes, no matter what.”

The man beside you looked up at the radio sitting on the wooden surface of the countertop right by the broken stove that he promised to fix exactly four months ago. He wore a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt that you were fairly certain belonged to you. The nail clippers he held tightly between his long fingers fell to the floor with a clank. Your attention snapped to your blue-eyed friend, and his foot propped up on your kitchen island.

“Have I already told you that you’re disgusting?” You spun around to face him, curling up your legs and resting them on the swivel chair you sat on.

“Yeah, like a hundred times. I just like disrespecting you in your own apartment. It’s fun,” he said with smugness in his voice as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the back of the stool.

At his words, you kicked out your legs and jabbed your sock-clad toes into his side in an unsuccessful attempt to push him off the chair. But the fucker has seen it coming and caught your lower limbs in a tight grip, hugging them to his chest like a newborn baby.

You tried to get your legs out of his grasp, but your attempts remained unsuccessful. In fact, the more you thrashed around and struggled, the tighter he gripped them. You huffed and gave up, trying to free yourself from his hold. A small smile spread across his lips when you ceased your efforts.

“I hate you,” you mumbled out, crossing your arms over your chest with a huff.

He simply chuckled and patted one of your legs. “I know you do, honeypie,” he said way too sweetly.

After he noticed your expression darken slightly, he puckered up his lips, sending you an air kiss, and you patted his stubbled cheek in response, perhaps a little too harshly, twisting your torso in the direction of the radio. The room went unusually quiet, except for the static noise of the device.

When you started doubting ever hearing an emergency message, the announcement lady spoke up once more, “Due to an unknown virus, some civilians are attacking animals and people. Please avoid contact with others and evacuate from big cities immediately. If you are unable to do that, stay indoors and barricade yourself.”

Your eyes widened slightly before you glanced over at your friend, whose brows were furrowed in thought. His gaze drifted up to meet yours. “I’m betting fifty bucks that it’s a cannibal cult.”

“Whatever you say.”

The man beside you reached out for the pink utensil in front of you, the one filled with your precious field berry tea. Before his fingers could even graze it, you stuck out your tongue and dipped it in the liquid. The painful burning made you immediately regret that action, but you swallowed down the burn, keeping your face stoic despite the pain. You knew that if you showed even a bit of discomfort, your friend would burst out laughing. His grin left his face, and you knew this was another battle won.

“Alright, alright! I’m not touching it,” he said, throwing his hands in the air in an act of surrender. His little demonstration wasn’t enough for you.

You slurped the tasty beverage loudly, eyeing him from the corner of your eye. You lifted your head away from the mug. “I don’t trust you, Murphy.”

Murphy’s hand shot out again to steal your tea, but you slapped it away, stopping it inches from the cup. “What did I do to deserve this treatment?” he whined as he rubbed his injured hand.

“You’re lucky I’m nice or I’d beat your ass, old man,” you mumbled out, sending him a warning glance.

“You wound me, dollface.”

The radio went silent before crackling loudly. The noise ate up a chunk of the government’s emergency message before it stopped, and the stoic voice of the reporter echoed through the room once again, “A person infected by the virus can be recognized by unhealthy pale skin and loud growling. It’s nearly impossible to physically restrain the infected, so if you happen to come across one, get as far away from them as you can. We repeat: this is an emergency broadcast system. Please proceed with caution.” The voice switched to static before fading out completely, and the apartment was eerily silent for a few moments.

You licked away stray drops of the tea from your lips with the tip of your tongue. “That’s it?” you asked, raising your eyebrow in suspicion.

Murphy shrugged in reply. “Sounds like a joke to me.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing full well he wasn’t even thinking about the government’s message, his mind probably preoccupied with the most random dumb thought a human could muster up. Murphy let your legs fall from his grasp before bending down to pick up the nail clippers off the floor. He propped his left foot back on the counter, getting ready to attack his poor toenails, but you took the torture device from his hand before he could even start.

“I was in the middle of some-” His protest was cut short by the loud banging on the door. Murphy met your wide eyes, confusion written all over his face. “Did you order pizza?”

“No, I don’t think so. Maybe it’s one of the neighbors.”

When you moved to get up from the chair and answer the door, he pushed you back into the seat. You protested loudly with a groan and a swat to his arm. If the radio announcement was a joke like he thought, then you had no reason to be afraid to open that damn door.

“Listen, what if the lady was telling the truth? Maybe we have some apocalyptic situation going on.”

You let out a snort before jumping off the chair and letting your legs lead you toward the door. “It’s too early for anything bad to be happening. I’ll just go see what they want,” you said while heading towards the exit without waiting for a reply from the man behind you.

You opened the door, expecting a frantic neighbor or maybe an angry cop looking for you for trespassing or other bullshit things you did the day before. You didn’t expect to find a stranger on the other side of the door. The sickly-looking man with shaggy hair stood there with a panicked expression painted all over his pale face.

“Can I help you?” you asked calmly as you took a step forward, blocking his vision of the inside of the apartment.

Your eyes tried to maintain contact with his, but he didn’t make it easy, darting his sunken orbs from left to right. You blinked, puzzled, scrunching your nose a little bit annoyed. Maybe it was just a random junkie that got the wrong door. You raised your hand and snapped your fingers right in front of his face.

Only then did the man finally look at you with wide eyes, his mouth opening, and closing as he stuttered in fear. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, which only served to increase your growing annoyance and unsettlement. He looked like he didn’t know at all why he was standing right in front of your door.

“Sir, please tell me what you need and I can take care of it. What’s your name?” you added, placing your hands on your hips. You looked the man up and down, noting that his left arm had bloody bite marks on it. “Do you want me to call 911?”

His breathing quickened as his body began trembling slightly. You weren’t sure if he reacted this way because of your words or something entirely else. You waited patiently, but nothing else came out of his mouth for several minutes. His silence made your hands shake.

You had a bad feeling about this situation but couldn’t force yourself to close the door right in front of his face. What if he really needed help but was mute or in shock? You would feel like a total asshole if it was the case.

Murphy called your name from inside the apartment, and when he didn’t receive any response because you were too busy having a stare-off competition with the stranger, he rushed over, cursing under his nose. When he crossed the corner and saw you, he sighed with relief.

“Who is that?” he asked, standing behind you and throwing the stranger a mean look. He took note of the bite marks and the state the unknown man was in. It was all pretty suspicious.

“I have no idea. I think he might need help,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders, pretending that the whole situation didn’t creep you out at all. Murphy has known you for years, so he quickly saw through your bluff. He gently pushed you backward, stepping in front of you to shield you away.

“Do you need us to call 911, man?” His voice turned defensive while he stared off the other man. Damn, he was not going to play into some nice guy, helpful citizen bullshit just because that creepy dude was injured.

It took you by surprise when the stranger finally opened his mouth to speak.

“I… I got bit. I’m going to die. I’m going to turn into one of those monsters, right?” he mumbled out, barely comprehensible. When he didn’t get a verbal response, just two pairs of eyes staring at him dumbfounded, he yelled, “Right?! No one can help me now!” He yanked Murphy by his shirt, screaming and crying.

“Hey man, get your fucking hands off me!”

You panicked, taking a few steps back. What the fuck was that guy talking about? The bite marks on his arm didn’t look lethal; they weren’t even bleeding much anymore. Why did he think he would die? You decided he must’ve been on some strong shit that made him hallucinate, or maybe he was just off his rocker. No other explanation came to your mind.

Murphy pushed the stranger away with a sneer. That guy definitely went too far, and it resulted in the door slamming shut right in his face. It was deserved; he scared you half to death. You decided to call 911 because somebody had to do something about this man. It wouldn’t be very “neighborly” of you to just let him roam around the building, scaring people.

Your friend locked the door tightly, ushering you out of the corridor before following you back to the kitchen. Concern was written across his bearded face. You sat down on the swivel chair, taking a slow deep breath of relief. Lucille crossed your mind. You wondered if she was safe.

The brunet walked up to the counter, standing on the other side, right across from you. He also breathed in deeply, leaning his elbows on the counter and running his hands down his face in exasperation.

“Shit, why did you even open that door?!” he mumbled out quite aggressively, probably more to himself than to you. His eyes met your wide ones, and he groaned out loud.

“I didn’t look through the peephole,” you admitted quietly, taking your pink mug back into your trembling hands. The cup was empty, but you couldn’t find the strength to acknowledge that fact. You knew you should have been more careful.

Usually, you’d get Murphy in a headlock all pissed off for raising his voice at you and ready to make him apologize, but that stranger really did a number on you. You put the cup down and made your way toward the sink to get yourself a glass of water in hopes that it’d calm you down a little bit.

“That’s just plainly dumb. What if he attacked you?” He stared holes into the back of your head. The blue-eyed man was really concerned for you. The possibility that someone could’ve tried to harm you and he wouldn’t even be standing by your side to protect you didn’t sit well with him.

“But he didn’t,” you noticed before taking a sip of the cold water.

“But he could,” he argued, staring at you, but you wouldn’t face him. Murphy walked up to you and embraced you from behind, circling his arms around your waist and pulling you close to his chest. He sighed loudly before continuing, “I know you’re like a damn cockroach, but be more careful for me, yeah?”

“I will try, I promise,” you assured him, your face softening at his concern. He just wanted you to be safe; you couldn’t be mad at him for that. It wouldn’t be fair.

You put the glass down and turned around so you could crane your head to leave a kiss on the underside of your jaw. Murphy looked down to meet your gentle gaze and peck your forehead, his scratchy stubble making you giggle.

“You know I’m gonna hold you to this promise, you little shit?”

@whiskeypowder @hopefulatrocity @witheringblooddemon @humanmistakes @yttricuz @twdeadlysins @donttelltheelff @spidergirla5 @sexyseabass @sweetpotatospock @witchygagirl @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @missbeeentertainment

#the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #twd #the walking dead amc #negan x reader #negan smith x reader #negan x lucille #negan and lucille #lucille smith x reader #lucille x reader #negan #lucille #the walking dead fic #the cockroach series

[lunajay33]

Glances🍒

Summary: Rick Grimes comes to your farm and things quickly grow between you both, will he finally get over Lori (reader is 22, Rick is a dilf)

•Masterlist•

Rick and his group had been at your family farm for a few weeks now and god has he plagued your mind, he was the hottest man you’ve ever seen, especially when he’s been working outside all day and his skin is glistening it does something to you, but what irks you is his wife…..Lori, you’ve witnessed their fights and he deserved so much better and you were willing to give that

They group were out by their camp while you and your sisters were making breakfast, you heard the door open and in walked the man you’ve been thinking about, his walk over was damn near hypnotizing

“Sweetie?” He asked breaking my you out of your trance, you looked up at his piercing blue eyes and felt yourself become weak

“Yes Rick, is there something you need?” You asked nervous, you’ve only had a few conversations but it still didn’t ease your nerves

“Wondering if you wanna come on a trip to that town near here with me, look for some supplies” you looked over at Beth and Maggie and they were smiling at you knowing your feelings for the sheriff

“Oh…sure when are we leaving?”

“Now while the suns up”

“Okay I’ll go get the horses ready” you smiled excited as you both left the house, he went to get ready as you saddled up the horses

You pulled yourself up in your horse as you held on the the rope of the other and made your way over to a waiting Rick, he had his black button up shirt on, his sleeves pushed up showing his muscular forearms with its prominent veins that made you weak in the knees but you had to try and focus

Rick hoped up onto the horse and looked you over his eyes lingering on your legs, it was a hot Georgia day so you were wear short shorts and a tight tank top

“You ready to go sheriff?” You asked shaking him out of his gaze

He cleared his throat and nodded as you both started to trot off on the horses

“So how’ve you been Rick? You seem stressed” you knew the others of the group really relied on him and put a lot of pressure on his conscience

“Nothing I can’t handle darlin” he smirked

“Of course not, but are you sure you don’t need a stress reliever?” You asked leaning forward a bit looking at him with a boost of confidence, the heat finally getting to you

“What kind of stress relieving are ya thinking about darlin?” He asked looking at you with this look you’ve never seen before even with all the weeks he’s been at your farm

“Anything you want sheriff” you said biting your lip as you finally got to the town, hoping off the horse as you tied her to a post, walking into a pharmacy as Rick quickly followed you

You felt his big hands sneak behind you gripping your waist, sliding down so his fingers were tugging at the hem of your shorts

“Mmm you must been really stressed, what? Your wife can’t help you out?” You asked teasing as you looked up behind you at him as he towered over you

“Can’t look at her like that anymore, not when a sexy thing like you is walking around, these little shorts of yours keep me up at night, thinking of of you tight body as you work in the sun, god I want you darlin” he groaned in your ear feeling him press up against you

“Well good thing for you, I’m here for you to do anything you want, use me Rick” you whined as his hand slipped further down into your shorts

Let’s just say he had a lot of stress to work out on and your body was the perfect relief for him to use…..for hours

—///—///—///—///—///—///—

Taglist: @deansapplepie

#twd rick #twd fanfiction #twd fic #twd #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes #rick grimes smut #rick grimes fluff #rick grimes x you #rick grimes oneshot #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes x original female character #the walking dead #the walking dead series

[rickgrimesdoingrickthings]

First fic I'm writing with @vuulpecula based on our threads!

#rick grimes #vuulpecula #twd #the walking dead #andrew lincoln #rick twd #the walking dead fic #fic #fanfic #twd fanfic #rick grimes fanfic #series #ao3 #twd ao3

[kenmjiro]

Secrets after class

¡Teacher!Rick Grimes(Aus) x ¡student! fem reader

inspiration: Secrets after class by comino inc.

Summary: you find your teacher sleeping peacefully in his office. While you wait you stumble upon a manuscript. A manuscript where the writing style seems awfully familiar...

TWS: Dramas, age gap, provocation,suspense, Romantinc comedy, Schoollife, Taboo, HighSchool

love is one of those thing that people can't really control.

One day you meet someone and the next you are hit with the realization that you are in love with them.

Being in love is a wonderful thing;however,what do you do if you fall in love with someone who is off limits to you?

I'm a book loving Junior in High School.

my love for books led me to join the Literature Club. The club is of course the best thing ever! It's full of exciting adventure,dreams,books,smiles! It just lacks one thing ...members. Yeah, sadly there are only two members in the club. My teacher and myself. But this year, I will changer that!

Have l mentioned that l'm head over heels in love with my teacher?

Moving right along! New year, new style!

“That's all for today, class. Be careful on your way homer everyone!” hearing my home room teacher's dismissal, l shot up from my desk.

“I have a meeting with the Literature Club today so l got to got” l thought as ready to leave, they give mee a slight touch on the shoulder

“Y/N”

“Whoa, maggie, what's up?” lt's my childhood friend Maggie Greene. We've been in the same classes since Kindergarten.

l have few friends, but she is one who truly gets me and is also a total bookworm. She is like the sister l never had. “Lemme guess, club meeting?”

“Yup! Today, l'm going to get permission to recruit new members!”

“Oh, that's right, you gotta have permission now because of that one incident, huh?”

Scrunching up my face, l nodded bitterly. “Yeah, unfortunately.”

*Sigh* “That teacher is unexpectedly tough, given his sweet appearance.”

“lt just didn't end well last time... However!Today is the day that l will get permission!” Speak decisively.

“ohhhh...well...l guess, you cant't come then.” Maggie shoulders drop.

“Huh? Come where?” l frowned.

“They cancelled basketball practice because they are using the gym for something else. So l wanted us to go to the bookstore with glen.” Glen is another classmate and childhood friend. the three of us are often together.

Glen and Maggie are couple.

They often worry that l'll be left by myself so they invite me along to wherever they go. But l am fine not joining them since l always feel like the third wheel.

“Nah, l'm good. You go ahead.”

“Wait, why? l need you go to with. You chose a great book for me last time. l want you to choose another one for me! so you really can't” Maggie dipped her head and stared up at me with big puppy eyes.

“That doesn't work on me anymore, nice try though.” Maggie puppy eyes turned into a full on pout.

“l ready promissed my teacher that l'd show at the meet today. l can't just ditch las minute.”“Besides, l want to get permission to recruit new members as soon as possible.” l thought as l bit my lower lip and looked at maggie back.

l don't know how long it is going to take to convince the teacher to get that magic ticket. So, it's a no from me dawg. But have fun with Glen”

“You know... l had hoped to hear about Andrew Lincoln's work from you today...”

“Staaaph! You know Andrew lincoln is my favorite author!”

“Ok,ok. But next time will you go with?” Maggie looked serious waiting for an affirmative answer.

“Yes! l promise.”

“Alright! l'm gonna hold you to that!”

“l won't let you down! For now, l have to go convince this teacher!

“Haha,good luck!”

With a last wave at maggie, l took off for the language department where my teacher was expecting me.

*knock knock*

“Huh? What's going on?” l stand with my hand still in the air after knocking the door. “l thought l told the teacher that l was coming today” l knocked on the office door again, but there still was no response.

“whats should l do?.... should l go inside” The teacher has never been late before. l wonder if something happened to him.

“Well, if anything, if he's not there, l can check the teacher's lounge. if the door is unlocked l can just wait in here.” l carefully opened the door

“Hello? mr. grimes?” The room was fairly dark, so l turned on the lights. That's when l saw a person slouched in chair at the back of the room

lt is my language teacher, Rick Grimes. He is also an advisor and a member of the Literature Club to which l belong. “Um... teacher rick?”

“ls he sleeping? During school hours?” Looks like he's asleep. “Wow, he looks completely out of it” Seeing his sleeping face, only one thought occurs to me: this is a side of him l never get to see.

“His skin is so fair and his eyelashes so long, He looks so peaceful. He's always calm and smiling. No wonder he's so popular with the ladies.”

But it's not just his looks that makes him popular. He is also an amazing teacher and cares for his students. lt's amusing though, before class starts, you always see all the girls batting their eyelashes at him. Heh

l really shouldn't be talking though...

.... Because l like him too.

l might even go so far as to say it was love at first sight.

l remember the day when l first requested to join the Literature Club. l looked up and saw his sweet smile. His first words were, “Thank you for coming, l'm happy you are here.”

“...Of course my teache does not know about my crush.” Since l'm a student, l need to make sure l keep these felings in check. “l don't want to cause any problems.”

l sat down in a chair across from a sleeping Rick. “He's sleeping so soundly, it doesn't look like he's going to wake up any time soon.”

“Hm... what should l do?”... “Since he's sleeping so well, l guess l'll let him be and just hang out a while.” “ln the meantime, l can think of how to persuade mr. grimes and how to recruit new members!”

“Actually lemma write the ideas down.” As l'm reaching for my bag, something catches my eye. A stack of papers is randomly placed on my teacher's desk.

lt seemed to be a manuscript of some sort that belonged to my teacher, given that the handwriting was similar. “ls this novel professor wrote... l didn't know he whote novels”

“l want to take a peek, but l really shouldn't read it without permission...But...just a teensy tiny peek shouldn't hurt, right? Just a page or two? l glance over at rick. He is still sleeping soundly.

“...Dear literary gods, please don't strike me down for being unable to contain my curiosity. Teach, forgive me, l just must know!” As l prayed for forgiveness from every deity, l picked up the manuscript.

The shorts story written from a male perspective was about 4000- characters long and spanned about 10 sheets. l of course read the entire thing in one go. “Did he write this”

Suddenly, l saw a movement in the comer of my eye.

“Ahem...”

The manuscript was lifted out of my hand. when l looked up, l saw that Rick had woken up at some point.

“Y/n, well, what's going on here? Do you always go around reading other people's private work... Perhaps l shouldn't have left it out in the open, but that's besides the point. ”

“l'm sorry. That was really rude of me.” As l apologized l was still staring at the manuscript that my teache was holding. “Not to impose even more, but can l,um, ask you about that? Did you write that?

“I did...-

“Sr. rick! lt' s phenomenal!!

“Wha-?”

Excited l stepped up to mi teacher “The world is so enveloping and you can feel the anguish and pain of the protagonist! It's written absolutely beautiful way” “the writing style resembles my favorite author, Andrew Lincoln, in every way!

Andrew Lincoln is a romance novelist who is very popular among the younger generation. He mainly writes young adult romance novels from a male perspective. Many of his works are very emotional and sad.

“On, that's right, you are a fan of Lincoln” l excitedly clapped my hands in front of me and rapidly nodded my head.

“Yes!!! A thousand times yes! l absolutely love that author! His work is incredible and has me in tears every time! l also love the fact that everything surrounding him is so mysterious. There is nothing about author himself anywhere. All we know is that he writes beautiful novels.”

“l see...” Whenever Lincoln is mentioned, Rick doesn't show much enthusiasm.

“Sr. rick, do you not care for this author? Whenever he is mentioned you seem very uninterested.”

“Ah, l'm sorry. l didn't mean to give off that impression.” Rick put the manuscript away in his desk drawer and turned to look at me. “ By the way, wasn't there something you wanted to discuss”

“Oh! Right! Right! l came to get permission!

“ls it for recruiting new members?”

“Yes!!!” nod frantically.

Rick sighed and nodded. “We discussed this before, but l will remind you that l will only accept motivated and interested students. l do not want the Literature club to become a ''Resume filler'' or hangout for unsavory people.”

“l know, l know, that's why l'm here to talk about that”sighed and nodded

“lt's not going to be easy to convince me.”

“But if we don't recruit more members the club will go extinct.”

“l understand this, but it is still better than having students not take it seriously.”

“Well, if you say so...

The teacher's words reminded me of the incident that happened previously.

Soon it was only teacher and myself.

The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop

“l just want to have a few more members and be able to advertise for the club”

“Y/N, l think just the two of us are perfectly fine. We don't need a lot of members to make the club interesting. Don't you think so?”

“lt's not that...”

In fact l love having Rick all to myself.

We haves so much fun every meeting that l look forward to them. But l wanted new members as much as l wanted to spend time alone with rick.

Because... “l really want other people to talk to about the books l read. l want someone who love Andrew Lincoln's work as much as l do and is enthusiastic about discussing it!”

Reading is something you do on your own, but discussion about a book is something that requires other people. l enjoyed talking to my peers about the books l read.

Of course l can talk to Rick but it's different. with him, we can discuss everything BUT Andrew Lincoln's work. And that is something l really, really want to discuss with others.

Since rick isn't interested in Lincoln's work, there is no point talking to him about it. “So l really want new members!”

“l see. l didn't realize how much you wanted to have more students in the club.” Rick sat deep in thought looking at me.

“l think l almost have him. Just a little more persuasion...” l was ready to fire off another reason as to why we need new members when..

Ding! Ding!

“ Rick Grimes, you have a phone call, please come to the staff office.” Rick was called over the school intercom, which effectively ended our conversation.

“alright. l understand why you wish to have new members. Let us think of ways to recruit members who are enthusiastic. l need to take this phone call. l will be right back.” With a smile, Rick took off.

“Great! looks like l got through to him, but damn that interruption!” “It's a step in the right direction though! Well, while he is taking his phone call,l'll just wait there for him to get back.” While waiting, l decide to take a look around the room.

A large bookshelf stood against the wall. lt was overfilled with books. There were so many in fact, that they were stacked in front of other books in little towers.“ The departament buys so many books that they are running out of room to store them”

Looking around a bit more it occurs to me that rick is not very tidy“ perhaps professor is just too busy to take the time and straighten up”

Since we use this as a club meeting room, l also tidy up every so often, but since it is the teacher's office, l can't straighten up and throw out stuff as much as l want. “Well, l guess for now l can get rind of this... Why is there a big cardboard box blocking the entrance anyway? lsn't some this some sort of fire code violation?”

l try to pick up the box, which is full of envelopes and documents. lt is much heavier than l had expected. “Good grief, what is in this thing?” l manage to lift the box into the air, but as soon as l did several envelopes that were on top crashed to the floor. “Ah crap“

One envelope wasn't properly sealed and the contents spilled all over the floor. “Crap,crap,crap!! What if this is some super duper important doc and l just got all the pages mixed up! I'm like so dead!”

“Huh? What is this” l took a closer look at the scattered documents. The handwriting seemed familiar. There was no doubt that these documents were written by Rick. “Oh! rick, did you actually write a full length novel?!”

l had just read a short story earlier that was written by my teache. l absolutely loved it. Needless to say l was dying to read this!

“Ugh.. but the JUST scolded me for reading his papers without permission. l would feel violated if someone did this to me so l'm going to go ahead and put this back. Alright, in you go buddy!” As l was sliding the manuscript into the envelope the author's name sprung out at me.

“What the hell? Andrew Lincoln? l slid the manuscript back out of the envelope and quickly flipped through the pages. The handwriting was all the same. “No way...” A million thoughts went through my head all at once.

Nobody knows anything about Lincoln's private life or where he is based out of. why is one of this manuscripts here?. There has to be logical explanation. “ Is my teache--

“What are you doing y/n”

“AHHH!!”

l was so shocked at reading my favorite author's name that l didn't hear the door open behind me. When l turned around l saw Rick stantiong at the door with a faint smile on this face.

l felt like a hundred flashing neon arrows were pointing at me blinking “GUITY!”“GUILTY”.

How the hell was l going to explain myself out of this one? Rick stepped in front of me, l made a desperate attempt as l turned to face my teache.

“Uh... h-hi! Um... you see, what had happened was. l was trying to clean and the box tumbled and spilled the manuscript everywhere... l'm sorry. l tried to collect it all...”

“And then?” Rick looked at me in a serene but threatening way.

“Then?”

“What did you see?” My teache closed the door and stepped in front of me.

“See? what did l see?” l stepped back instinctively as Rick comer closer.

“y/n, please be honest, what did you see?

“Well... the manuscript... the name... Er.. well... could.. you.. maybe be the novelist Andrew Lincoln?”

“......” The silence felt endless and l quickly regretted blurting out that assumption.

A thought occurred to me..l have been fawning over Andrew Lincoln to my teache for how long now? l practically confessed my love for him in front of my teache. l spilled everything from how much l love Lincoln's work, how much it makes me cry, how my heart absolutely longs for him.

lt is stuff would absolutely never ever tell the actual author himself “But... l mean that'd be ridiculous, right? Him being Andrew Lincoln... At least l really hope it's not him... l would be mortifiel and could neve show my face at his school again.”

l swallowed thickly and meekly looked up at Rick who was staring intensely at me. my teacher's demeanor had completely changed.

“Hmmm....” Rick let out a small sigh which made my bangs ruffle.

as l loocked at my teacher through my bangs, it occured to me that he was acting completely different front usual. “What if was Andrew Lincoln? What would you do then?”

Rick tone changed. He no longer presented himself like my teacher. lt was more of a predator having trapped its prey.“l...l don't know if l would... believe that.”

“Ah.. Well you see... l am Andrew Lincoln”

“No... way...” He stared at me.

“Why would l lie to you, you're holding the proof right in your hand.” l glanced at the manuscript in my hand.

“Whoa!”

l'm so aghast that my hand involuntarily loosens around the manuscript. Rick grabs my hand. “Don't drop that. lt still needs to be delivered to the publisher today.” l nod like l'm on autopilot. “Well then, y/n”

“U-um...yes?”

Rick steps closer towards me. l instinctively step back, but my back hits upon a solid surface. l forgot the bookshelf was right behind me.

my teacher takes another step towards me. “What's happening?”

l glance at the door and make a movement towards it. Suddenly Rick arm is in my line of sight. He has trapped me between himself and the bookshelf. “Not so fast, y/n. So... the teacher you admire and novelist you worship are the same persona... what are you going to do now?

l look up at my teacher who has an imperious smile on his face

My day started so ordinary.....

what have l gotten myselft into?!?

part 2???

#the walking dead #rick grimes #andrew lincoln #fanfic #oneshot #tv series #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes fic #twd rick #rick grimes twd #twd fanfiction #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes oneshot #kenmjiro

[sasusc]

Incoming!

Let's Do It Again: Beth truly had planned to talk to Daryl about what had happened earlier, but instead she blurted out “We had sex, Daryl. I would like to do it again."

Sequel to "you might think I'm crazy, the way I've been cravin' "

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #twd #beth greene #bethyl #otp #fanfic #fanfiction #my work #my fic #its a series now #yay

[yevmarie]

Light My Fire | Chapter 7

Masterlist

< Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 >

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Pronouns: you, she/her

Warnings: angst, mentions of depression, swearing, mentions of physical abuse towards other people, detailed description of typical TWD violence, differences from the main plot may occur, bad English (not my first language).

Taglist: @your-shifting-gurl @bae-live-0 @richardsamboramylove55 @deansapplepie @snailss @denisecabrera @dreamtofus @duckybird101

You were sitting near the tent, trying to occupy your mind with the book you had taken at the beginning of the outbreak when you left home. The novel was so good that you binge-read it after Rick got to the hospital. That was the only thing that distracted you somehow, almost the cure for the hours spent crying after calls with Lori, who always said the doctor's forecast had been discouraging.

Now, everything was different. Although you reunited with your friend, other things were bothering you. Thoughts rushed after every sentence being read.

Is Merle alive? Will the group come back? Should I tell everything to Rick? But that fucker Shane almost killed me today. Shit! The neck hurts so much I'd probably have bruises forming a 'necklace' in a day. Shane is scaring the hell out of me. Why is he doing that to me? Did I deserve it after all my love given to him? I think I deserve just nothing good. If any good is even left in this world…

You cursed to yourself, noticing that familiar Depression FM finding the 'right' radio wave in your mind. The host today is so cruel; he plays that shitty song with the lyrics derived from your brain. And that fucking cassette tape is broken, repeating every verse again and again. You knew what to do in such cases.

"Ms. Y/LN, there's one technique that helps to get rid of repetitive unhealthy thoughts. But it needs practice as any of them. So close your eyes and imagine a bus stop, some familiar one to you. Perhaps near your work. This must be the place you know well to add realism to your brain."

You put the book aside and leaned back on the tree to relax your body. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and imagined the bus stop near your office. This is a busy street full of office workers fussing around and cars honking.

"Good. Now imagine the bus you are waiting for."

You are standing in your uncomfortable office outfit, praying to catch the bus quicker and get home. And here it is!

"When it arrives, come up to it."

You make several steps, slightly losing balance as some teenage girl pushes you, aiming to get in faster than you to take a seat.

"The doors are opening, and you get in but notice one unpleasant thing… The people inside only talk about you. About your insecurities. They literally repeat your thoughts out loud, saying them to you in your face."

"You don't deserve love," an old grumpy lady says, looking at you with side eyes.

You take a step further, aiming for the part of the bus with fewer people, finding a man wearing total black: a leather jacket, jeans, massive boots, and bike gloves. He is saying nothing to you. He's not even looking at you, listening to whatever music is playing in his earphones.

"Love? Don't be ridiculous," the teenage girl who had pushed you before chuckled. "She just deserves nothing good."

Another step up to the man when he finally turns to you. Pale blue eyes, three-day stubble, a bit outgrown haircut, two cute moles on the face, one above his thin lips. Although his frame is wide and the outfit is brutal, he doesn't seem like that. He's calm.

"Daryl?" you whispered, standing up too close to him, the haunting scent mixed of his cologne, leather, and tobacco hitting your brain, sending waves of excitement through your veins.

"Yeah, talking about Daryl," a clerk sitting near you, reading a newspaper, caught your attention, "He thinks you are useless."

"Reckless," a woman cooing to her baby corrected the clerk.

"He talks to you out of pity," another voice said.

"He's not interested in you," added yet another.

All the hurtful voices meshed together, making your tears swell in your eyes. Daryl took off his earphones and passed them to you. You plugged them in and heard… Nothing! Except the silent echo of your heartbeat. You noticed people were still talking to you but couldn't hear them. Daryl cupped your face with his calloused, warm palms, still looking into your eyes. His gaze was calm, gentle, and loving. He leaned closer, narrowing the space between your faces, looking down at your lips; his breath tickled your sences as you savored the moment with anticipation.

"Ms. Y/LN, after hearing everything the passengers have told you, would you get off the bus?"

"No," you whispered, closing your eyes and feeling Daryl's lips touching yours in a sensual kiss.

FUCK!

You opened your eyes and threw the book away towards the tent.

"So, have I fallen for Daryl?" you asked yourself, desperately sighing, as surely daydreaming about the hunter wasn't planned, when suddenly you saw a familiar woman figure approaching you - Lori.

"Y/N, can I ask you to look after Carl and Sofia?" the woman's expression was concerned, obviously stressed out by something. You only nodded in consent, not wishing to talk, and stood up to go for the children. But your hope of no dialogue with the woman was dispelled in a second when she gently grabbed your forearm.

"We need to talk, Y/N."

"Enough talking for me today," you mumbled and stepped forward but were stopped again by Lori's touch.

"Please," she begged sincerely. "I… I'm really sorry for all that," her voice shaky. "I didn't know you still had feelings for him."

"You never asked," your response was just a guillotine, cutting off all potential reasoning.

"If you had only told me before… Perhaps I'd still be devastated, but I knew you were fair to me. And after some time, I'd accept it," you looked at your crying former friend and felt the pain hit your chest.

"Look, I'm not aiming to hurt you. Just trust me, it doesn't bring me any satisfaction. I'm not a monster. I just want to let you know I've always expected some tricks from Shane but not from you. Because you know what? I've always thought friendship is stronger. Love just comes and goes. But you betrayed me."

"Okay, okay," Lori nodded, sobbing, and was going to walk away, but you stepped aside and appeared on her way.

"I could overcome it and forgive you one day. But if Rick doesn't… He just doesn't deserve all of this."

"He'll never know," her answer outraged you. She was so sure you wouldn't tell Rick.

And honestly, she was right and wrong at the same time by saying this. You face the dilemma of telling Rick everything you know and destroying his family and friendship with Shane. Or you just step back and lose another close person like Rick because you'd not be able to even look into his eyes and act like everything is going fine and finally betray him by keeping silent. You didn't know what to do, and this tortured you.

"Then I'll just be nice to you for the love of Rick and Carl. I can't offer more; I'm sorry," you turned around and walked toward the campfire, leaving Lori alone. "I'll look after Carl and Sofia." 

Hours later, when you were spending time with the children, the camp was shocked by another event: Shane beat up Ed after he hit Carol. You felt sorry for the woman and reasoned her to have her rest, though you had planned otherwise before, and took your duty to help in the kitchen and stew the squirrels for the group. 

It was getting darker; the group was having dinner, but no one returned from the run to Atlanta. You saved the portions for the men and started cleaning the place you called the kitchen. You couldn't have your rest; otherwise, you would go crazy. Or eat as the food stuck in your throat again. Your nerves were being torn to shreds. 

But Amy's wrenching scream cut off the silence you mistakenly considered agonizing.

"Walkers!" people yelled. 

The chaos burst in seconds, resulting in fussing, cries, and shooting. The latter bothered you the most as it was uncontrollable, and you were scared to take a slug. You ran to the table and took a knife, scanning the situation around. Lori and Carl were hiding behind shooting Shane; that's good. You were looking for Carol and Sofia, who were near Shane as well but were more vulnerable to attack. 

You were going to run to them but heard upcoming rasps just near yourself. Turning around, you stabbed the walker's head, hearing the gut-wrenching sound of tearing skin and breaking skull. The blood spraying on your face and the smell almost made you vomit. The body fell on the ground when another walker approached you, snapping its teeth and stretching its arms to you. You kicked it in the chest so you had more space for maneuvering, swaying your arm holding the knife to damage the skull of the lying dead. 

You stood up, taking a deep breath and wiping the sweat off your forehead. Other shooting noises were reaching the camp. You heard Rick's voice calling his family when you fell, being pushed down to the ground. Your chest took a pasting by falling flat on the ground, and the air from your lungs was beaten away. You realized the snapping teeth were inches from your skin, so at least you needed to push it away from you to kill, but the body was so heavy you couldn't make a move. 

Suddenly, you felt the weight above was lifted from you, thrown somewhere away, and shot, so you jumped out of your skin, instinctively closing your ears. Then, your body was lifted easily as if you were a featherweight. An arm tugs around you, pushing your back into someone's body. 

"Ya okay?" you know this gruff voice.

You quickly nodded and squizzed his forearm, thanking god Daryl returned to the camp. 

"Stay behind; it's clear there," the archer freed you from his hug and continued shooting the dead. 

Several minutes passed when the last walker was down. You were panting, trying to catch your breath, and dropped to your knees as your muscles were aching. You looked back and saw Rick hugging his family. Carol and her daughter were safe, but the field around the camp was covered with dead flesh — the bitter payment for your close people to be alive. 

"Y/N," you heard Rick approaching you, helping you stand up, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you nodded, standing up, but your legs were wobbling, so the sheriff had to help you keep your balance by holding you by your back.

"Where's Merle?" 

"He escaped, but we couldn't find either him or his body."

The hope died in your eyes, turning your gaze to as black as night. 

"Y/N, can you tell me something?"

"Hm?" you hummed, fluttering your eyes open as if you were returning from a trance. 

"Did Merle and you..?" 

"No," you cut short his question and were trying to walk away, but Rick stopped you, standing next to you, gently holding your shoulders. 

"Is it because of Daryl?" by an odd coincidence, the name mentioned made you stiffen so that Rick's touch read your tensity.

"What do you mean?" 

"Do you like him?" 

You stiffened even more, and the opportunity to lie about something faded. Considering you were talking to the sheriff, who was too good at reading people. Furthermore, when they were close ones. 

"No. We just became friends," you put his arm aside, hinting you'd like to walk away. This dialogue was leading to some strange course. "Rick, I wanna sleep, let's talk tomorrow, okay?" 

Your friend nodded and stared after you walking away. 

"So, why do you sleep in Daryl's tent?" you stopped and turned around to the man. 

"Because you got back, and there's not enough space for four of us."

"You had already moved to Dixons. There was no stuff of yours. Or you are a medium." 

"Rick, is it cross-examining?"

"I just wonder why you behave so strangely. If you like some of the brothers, it changes everything. I'll insist on searching. If you don't have feelings but still hang out with them when your family is here. Then I assume you'd had some fighting with Lori and…"

"Hey man," Shane appeared out of nowhere, approaching Rick. "Let's discuss our plans for tomorrow. We need to do something with the bodies." 

You mentally thanked your ex and quickly walked to the tent. Getting inside of it, you noticed the archer was already sleeping. Perhaps he was so tired he didn't give a damn where he was going. And at least it's his tent. You grabbed your blanket to move to Merle's, but Daryl's voice stopped you.

"Ain't sleeping. Get inside. It's better to stick together if another horde is coming. Not gonna touch ya," the hunter's sleeping voice made some magic to you as you got in and laid down back to him without hesitation. You covered yourself with the blanket, but it was too much already as you were flushed red, and all your blood was running in hot impulses through your body.

"Is it okay?" Daryl wanted to reassure himself you were fine with this. 

"Yeah," you replied. 

"So, if Rick noticed, then when will you accept you have fallen for Daryl, Y/N?" you told yourself and shut your eyes tightly as if it would help you fall asleep faster.

< Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 >

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl dixon / reader #daryl dixon / you #daryl dixon x you #daryl / reader #daryl / you #daryl x you #daryl dixon fanfiction #Daryl dixon series #The Walking Dead #the walking dead series #the walking dead fic #twd #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #norman reedus #daryl dixon fanfic #twd daryl #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x y/n

[weretheones]

All You Got | Part 1

Part 1: All You Got 

Plot: Daryl Dixon hadn’t known much beyond anger and loneliness his whole life, until he found family at the end of the world. Everything he grew to care about was ripped away the day the prison fell; so when he recognized you, an enforcer of his loss, hiding in that cabin, he almost pulled the trigger. But after you end up saving his life, he couldn’t find the indifference to leave you for dead, even if you’d been on the Governor’s side. (Mid-Late Season 4) 

Series Masterlist | AO3 Version

Paring: Eventual Daryl Dixon x Reader Word Count:
 3.5k Warnings: description of injury, blood, violence, swearing.  A/N: oh wow i am so excited and also so nervous for this series haha. its been a baby of mine for months now, and i finally got around to starting drafts this january. its gone thru so many revisions and edits but i love how its turned out <3 FYI: if you want to follow this series, I'm planning on updating every friday, usually in the evenings (ET). 

gif credit: @daryl-dixon-daydreams​

Blood dripped between your clasped fingers, soaking the denim down your thigh. There was an unusual heaviness in your muscles, one that made keeping your attention on the door, and the wide-eyed man who’d just barged through it, exhausting. With every shaky breath you released, the aim of your gun weakened.

“Please…” 

The man ignored your plea. 

He bolted across the closet’s small stretch without even a hint of hesitancy, grabbing your wrist and twisting the gun’s aim away from his chest. Fast enough that there wasn’t a chance to fire that bullet in your stupor, even if you had the guts. 

The only logical course of action would be that gun at your forehead, cold metal pressing into cold skin, and then a bullet shattering your skull. That’s what you expected. That’s what this world taught you to wait for, with closed eyes and a last breath, laced with dust, sweat, and the iron of your flowing blood. 

Yet, no cold metal bit your skin. Your anticipation lingered with a second, then a third, inhale of that musty air. 

Rapid with apprehension and fear, your eyes blinked open. There was a quiver to your lip and chin as you tried to steady your breaths. The tension in his forearm caught your attention; muscles twitched under dirty, tanned skin as he held the weapon by his side, instead. It wasn’t threatening. His effort had only meant to disarm you, which was a momentary relief, until the noise of shuffling feet made your gut twist all over again. 

From the sound of it, the dead followed his trail, spilling into the cabin that only the closet’s thin wooden door separated you from. The growls slipping past their hungry jaws made your stomach knot with panic because if he had found you so easily, why wouldn't they? 

The stranger— that was only half true— didn’t notice the way your hands shook or the way your chest seemed to be caving in on itself. Instead, he looked over his shoulder to watch the door, long dark hair slick with sweat and curved along the thick expanse of his neck. It wasn't until he turned back with a dirty finger in front of his lips, signalling to be quiet, that he met that panicked look in your eye. 

If his frame, built of brute strength and force, was any indication of his capacity, you had no doubt this man was hell-bent on surviving— which might’ve been your only chance at survival, too, because when he finally got a good look at you, his face fell. An overwhelming hatred swarmed him as he finally recognized you. 

Everything moved too fast. His jaw clenched shut and eyes narrowed in a mean stare. There wasn’t a fence to separate you now, no tank to your left or psychopath with a sword to your right, but he saw you all the same. Merciless and violent. An obedient soldier standing next to the Governor when he sliced into Hershel’s neck. 

The gun pressed against your forehead.

It didn’t matter that you’d expected it before— you gasped. Even under only the thin light of day from the window behind, you could see his threatening scowl. Hear it. The heavy pants that left his snarled lips, the grinding of his teeth. 

A biter slammed against the wall outside, just inches away from the door— the same door that could barely withstand the force of the man who followed you inside. If the dead knew you were here, they’d bring it down in seconds. 

“I know you want me dead,” you whispered with one last flicker of hope that his survival instincts outweighed his desire for revenge, “but if you kill me now they’ll hear and then you’ll be dead too.” 

A solid arm of muscle pressed against your collarbone, pushing down your body at an odd angle while pinning you between him and a shelving unit. The kind of pressure that would’ve had your heart racing with fear, if it hadn’t been weakened so much already. His breaths came out in shallow pants and his finger hovered above the trigger, shaking with what could only be rage. Your brows raised, a desperate plea found in big, wide eyes, as his narrow stare continued to rip through you, your words, your expression, only letting up when he found something definitive. 

With a rough exhale, the gun was back by his side. 

Your lower lip quivered as his arm released you. As he stepped back, careful not to let his eyes shift off you, your weight lifted off the shelf behind you. Its feet found the floor again with a soft thud, but the groans outside didn’t grow any louder, and you finally sighed in relief. 

Of course, that was when the momentum had finally teetered a jug over the edge. The glass shattered against the tiled floor, spraying tiny shards and making a noise that was much too loud for your liking. 

A loud growl ripped through the air. There was only a second between that and the first slam of a hungry, mindless body colliding with the door. Without a word, you both charged for the door, slamming all your weight against it just as the dead did the same. You palmed the wooden frame, pushing with all your strength— you didn’t have much of that left, but whatever hadn’t leaked out of you since being stabbed at the prison, was adamant. 

The man to your right seemed to be in a similar spot, feet shuffling against the ground as he lost, then reset his footing and pushed. Though, he indisputably had a much stronger force behind his attempt. Muscles that tensed into stone as he fought against the dead and, fuck, he didn’t need a gun to kill you. He could’ve just snapped your neck like a twig. 

“Anythin’ we can use?!” 

The door nudged forward enough to almost knock you off balance, but you caught yourself just in time to spin around and press your back against the wood. You searched the room, frantic, and found nothing new. The shattered vase, the rickety shelf, and that narrow window, perched above. The same one you’d considered escaping from when you first heard that man’s steps echo through the cabin, just seconds before he charged at you and stole your gun. 

“The window!” you yelled and rushed forward. The man had been doing most of the work, anyway.

Tossing the shelf to the side, you reached up to slide the window panel open, but it wouldn’t budge. The sun sparkled in that smear of stark red your palms left behind. Panic weighed your breaths, quick and harsh as the increasing pounding of the dead and your burning thigh began to overwhelm you. Without another thought, and perhaps no other option, you turned your back to the wall and smashed your elbow through the glass plane. More little shards fell to the ground, glittering in the light like stardust. You could feel the dripping of fresh blood across your forearm, but the cuts themselves were dulled from another surge of adrenaline.

Even so, you bet they’d hurt less than the teeth of the dead ripping you apart. 

Shards lined the edge of the window. Peeling your flannel off, balled into your hand, you brushed it along the frame, once. You looked back to the man who was about to lose against the dead, sweat dripping off him like that blood on your arm. 

It would have to do. 

He nodded and without a word, you climbed over the frame.

The ground was soft, dampened by the day before’s rain, but the impact still knocked the breath out of your lungs. The extensive hurt in your body and the dizziness starting to drown your sight made balance, and especially landing that fall, all the more difficult. Palming the grass, you lifted your chest from the ground, unable to bite back the groan from the sudden ache in your muscles. 

A dreadful crack of wood echoed from behind— your fight was long from over. Even though you’d put a wall between you and the dead, now there was nothing but the forest ahead. Large trees with even bigger openings for anything to hide behind. With shaky limbs, you raised to your knees, then your feet, gripping along the cabin’s wall to support you— how the hell could you run, nevertheless fight, like this?  

There were the obvious and oppressing physical effects of your blood loss. Dizziness, clumsiness, and now exhaustion. Though, there must’ve been some distinguished mental capacity, too, because you lingered by that wall far longer than you should’ve, waiting for the man who made it very clear, only seconds ago, that he wanted to put a bullet in your head. Outside the confines of that closet, nothing was stopping him from doing exactly that. The dead already knew where you were, one gunshot wouldn’t mean the difference between his life and death anymore. 

Still, you waited for dirty hands to wrap around the frame, pulling himself to the edge of the window. Before he had a chance to drop down, another hand, grey and disfigured, wrapped around his ankle. 

You’d always been smart, always been cautious. Hell, it was probably why you’d made it so long. So it must’ve been the blood loss because there was no way you were this stupid. There was no rational reason to use whatever energy you had left limping to his side and yanking his arm, his leg, whatever you could grab onto, with all your body weight. 

Or, perhaps your guilt just went a long way. 

Whatever it was, it gave him the leverage he needed to kick the biter free and tumble forward, onto the damp soil. 

“Come on!” you yelled. 

He scuffled to his feet without hesitation. In good timing too, because the dead from the porch had been wandering toward the back of the cabin since they must’ve heard you smash the window. The second they turned the corner and their dead, yellow eyes landed on living flesh, they hurried. Sure, they couldn’t run fast, but you’d learned the hard way that a big group of them, as riled up as these were, was one of the most threatening situations you could find yourself in. 

Twice, he fired the gun. Two bitters dropped. At least six remained, and those were just the ones that’d made it around the curve of the cabin already. More were coming. 

They were always coming. 

The smell of gunpowder was nauseating, even worse than the rot that soaked the mangled body of every approaching biter. 

There wasn’t a hint of smoke in the air, but you could almost taste it— heavy on your tongue, painting your throat with soot and swarming your lungs with a dark cloud of pain. Sharp screams echoed through the expanse of trees, and then the overlapping barrage of gunfire thundered. 

And through all that, something low cut through the chaos. Even after you’d tried to cover your ears. Brian’s voice— his lies. 

“They mutilated me, burned my camp, killed my daughter…” 

A hand wrapped around your shoulder and pure instinct drove your knife into the biter’s skull. With a heavy gasp, you tried to catch your breath, tried to fill the lungs in your chest that were on the brink of collapsing.

“We can take the prison without firing a single shot—” 

The biter below you faded away, and the silver of your knife, sticking out of its skull, blurred until the only thing you could see anymore was that fence. Wrapped in barbed wire and supported with large wooden beams, but inconsequential for the tank at your side. 

“— but we have to be willing to kill.” 

Your legs gave out. On your knees, you reached over the dead biter for the handle of your knife. Just as your hand wrapped around the familiar grip, your vision darkened completely. Another gunshot rang out before you felt the damp ground against your cheek. 

“Liar.” 

— 

There was a steady beat of pain in your leg and chest, the latter weighing down your already shallow breath. The softness below you felt foreign. With eyes still shut, you dropped your hand from your chest to palm cushion. 

A bed or a couch, you guessed. 

Relief, not even confusion, hadn’t the time to sweep your thoughts before the achingly familiar groans of hunger made your chest tighten, even worse. 

Alert, your eyes snapped open to find another type of darkness— nothing but moonlight spilled past thin curtains. Figures danced between dim rays of white light; darkness painted across the walls of an unfamiliar living room like bad shadow puppets, ones that could only invoke horror instead of childlike wonder. 

Something old and wooden creaked beyond the window as one of the shadows moved, a cascade of moonlight landing on the man from the cabin— from the prison— and a crossbow, perched between his narrow eyes and bent knees. Head lulled to the side, you focused on his glare, the way his attention barely flickered to your knitted brow and parted chapped lips before he stared forward again. 

You followed the point of his bolt to a door just behind, closed shut by the weight of the couch you’d been sleeping on. 

Wide with panic, your eyes jumped back to him, and despite that horrid ache soaking through every inch of muscle, you tried to sit up. Tried to shuffle backward to put even an inch more distance between you and that door. But the pain twisted from aching to a sharp burn, and instead of distancing yourself, you collapsed down into the cushion with a violent hiss. 

“Stop,” he was quiet, drifting through the air like those rays of moonlight, but his tone was as sharp as the pain in your leg. 

There was a hint of shame behind your teary eyes. You tried to hide it by biting your quivering lip. God, you were afraid. Reduced to that girl who was scared of her own shadow— only this time, it wasn’t yours haunting you, it was the dead’s. 

Another one crossed what must’ve been a rickety porch from the constant creaking, and even with the dark shadows painted along his face, you could still feel that stern expression cut through you. 

You blinked hard, then swallowed, and tried to keep your voice steady. “You helped me,” you croaked out as if you had to say the words to believe it. 

He didn’t reply. 

That flannel you were wearing was wrapped around your leg as a makeshift bandage, and the bit of torn skin around your elbow was clean— as clean as possible without much water or any antibiotics. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

“Keep talkin’ ’n those assholes’ll grab you first.” 

You stayed quiet after that. 

It was another five minutes, at least, until you noticed that your knife was looped in his belt. Under the dim light, he saw the shift of your expression, from pain and restraint into another bout of wide-eyed concern. Only this time, there seemed to be a hint of anger laced within your clenched jaw, too. He followed your eyes to the blade, only to readjust it around his hips so that it was hidden behind the crossbow still perched in his lap. 

Something heavy hung in the air, beyond the immediate danger of the dead just outside and the lingering tension of your actions aiding the destruction of his home. Even if every beat of your heart ached for that blade to be on your hip again, to feel the familiar engraving of his initials under the padding of your thumb, you knew, regrettably, that there was no chance in hell you’d be getting it back anytime soon. A man so seemingly calculated and cautious as him would intend to keep the knife secured to his body— which was fair, considering the hell you’d just put him through.

You bit back your words, if they were to be pleading or upset you weren’t sure, and tried to focus on the lull of safety you had, even if for a moment. 

If he’d gone through not only the trouble of carrying you here, tending to your wounds, you could assume he wouldn’t be sending you to your death tonight. That he’d fire a bolt before any biter could break through and grab you. In the condition your leg was, tender with hurt and swollen to the stretch of your jeans, there wasn’t a chance for you to run, anyway. He’d have to drag you off that couch and out of that dark home if he wanted you gone. 

Whatever ease that gave you was enough for exhaustion to blur your vision again, and soon you slipped back into sleep. 

The morning’s rays of sun took place of the moon’s, landing across his taut expression as he continued to stare at the door. You briefly wondered if he’d been doing that all night. 

From the dark purple blooming under his eyes, it seemed a fair assumption. 

You sat up, with more vigour this time, able to balance yourself, properly. 

Still, he didn’t move his eyes off the door once. Not even a blink. It was like he’d frozen in time. 

With a soft sigh, you rubbed your eyes of sleep and did your best to ignore the dull throb in your leg while pushing yourself to a kneel. A delicate curl of your finger wrapped around the curtain just behind the couch, peaking an eye outside. There were a few stragglers left, wandering the ivy-ridden road ahead, but not nearly enough to have caused the noise and shadows of last night. 

“There’s a couple left,” you told him. 

When he didn’t reply, you glanced over your shoulder. 

“Hey,” you called a little louder, and his eyes finally snapped off the door, blinked, then met yours. They were swollen and discoloured as you’d noticed before, and even from across the room, you could see a rim of red. “Are you okay?” 

He huffed as he stood up. Whoever he was, he never seemed like a weak man, physically or mentally. Maybe that was a hint of your own bias, because it must’ve taken a lot of emotional strength to drop that gun from your forehead, and God, were you thankful that he had it. But the way he dragged himself around the room with heavy but suspiciously quiet steps was odd. 

Wandering into the kitchen and glancing out the back door, every movement was made as if his body was just a pound too heavy for him to carry. From the way he tried to hide it behind low grunts and snide glares, there was a heavy feeling in your gut that heaviness was conditioned into him. Like you’d always been told, your mind was too curious for your own good; you wondered the last time he didn’t have to carry that weight. The last time he really rested. 

And then your stomach knotted.  

Probably before you helped that lying asshole destroy his home. 

“Too many in the back.” He shook his head. 

You blinked and turned your attention back to the issue at hand. 

“What about the front? Maybe one of those cars can run.” 

“Nah. Checked last night.” 

“Well, maybe we can distract those biters, instead?” 

Leaning over, he peeked out the curtain above your head. Counted the dead warding off your only exit and straightened his stance again. 

“Tha’s a big maybe,” he remarked. 

“It’s better than nothing.” 

He glanced at you, then back at the window. 

“Still too many of ‘em anyway. If they catch us ’n get all riled up, those walkers in the back will come runnin’.” 

“Then is it even worth leaving?” 

“There’s no food or water ‘ere. Nothin’.” 

“So what do we do?” 

He scoffed, “You ’n I might be stuck in ‘ere, but there ain’t no ‘we’.” 

Your gaze narrowed. “I can help you.” 

“Don’t want your help.” 

“But you need it,” you snapped back. “Look in a mirror lately? You’re exhausted. Soon enough you’re gonna drop. You’ll need someone watching your back when you do and I’m all you got.” 

Observant, hooded eyes picked you apart, flickering across the part of your lips and the heave of your chest. He had a way of investigating you, dragging that deep and careful shade of blue across every inch of your shaking frame— studying you. 

A stare sharper than the cut of his cheekbones; it made you squirm, readjust your footing and swallow that annoying lump forming in your throat. And just as quick as his glare had turned on you, it fell off, leaving you to feel scorched where it’d lingered.

He turned on his heel. With that same piercing look, your attacker and saviour glanced over his shoulder, an eyebrow cocked, expectantly.

“I ain’t got all day.” 

————————————————————

-> part two

A/N: ummmm hi<3 so so nervous ab posting this but its silly cuz its fanfic and ahhhhahhh anyway

if you’re reading this, thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. please feel free to leave feedback, it helps so much and I love to read it. have a lovely day <3

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl dixon / reader #daryl dixon / you #daryl dixon x you #daryl / reader #daryl / you #daryl x you #daryl dixon fanfiction #Daryl dixon series #The Walking Dead #the walking dead series #the walking dead fic #twd #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #norman reedus #Daryl Dixon angst #daryl dixon fanfic #twd daryl #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x y/n #all you got #madi writes

[thewritersaddictions]

Bases: Negan Smith- Chapter 4 Echo

Pairing: Negan Smith x Fem!Reader

Pov: Negan Smith

Warnings: Smut, head, PinV, wrap it before you tap it, angst, fluff, mentions of the wives, coin for your thoughts, a little fight-ish.

Summary: It all takes longer than expected, but Negan is absolutely thrilled when he gets you under his sheets and finally gets to have you all to himself.

A/n- @ firefly-graphics for dividers

WC- 3.2k

The Walking Dead Master List // The Wanderers Master List // Series Master List

Months go by before anything else happens. I'd let go of the wives. That had been first on my list of things. 'Returning' them to their husbands or whatever was left of them. They all seemed grateful, as if I had been a horrible person in the first place.

I can't shake the feeling that I might have been slightly sinister. I wasn't always right. It only ever came out when it was needed. Lucille had been a good thing slung over my shoulder, which put the fear of god into most people. A man with needs, though, can only go so far with a bit of touch here and there, a warm and wet mouth awaiting them.

Y/n had grown more in the past few months, though. Confidence didn't pour from her, but it also wasn't non-existent. She travels more often with us, taking care of many walkers on the way. She had a few past times. Y/n had a collection of books stacking up, taking up spots on the side, and coffee tables in the room.

It was excellent, the feeling of the space before compared to now. It felt different. It felt like a home, not just someplace where I happened to lay my head down at night. Y/n also had other past times. We had people, and they had jobs, yet every morning I'd watch as Y/n would stand at the fence line with a knife in hand. Walkers were lying dead at the fence line.

Blood and guts smeared against cleanly washed clothes. Bloodstained against the supple skin of her cheek. “Hey maybe next time you should use my bat.” I said, walking up behind her. Was it clear to everyone else in the sanctuary that Y/n was something special, perhaps they had no clue why all the sudden she was all I really cared about. “Hmm I didn’t think you’d allow for that Negan.” Y/n said digging the knife into another lopsided walker head. Sure they’re other people in the yard, but none that are as intriguing at Y/n. 

“Why don’t you and I go get some lunch?” With Y/n nothing is ever a demand, rather a question that I feel Y/n won’t ever deny. She looks down at the ground on the other side of th fence. The pile of walkers line a good portion of the fence. “Maria are you okay if I go inside for a moment?” Y/n asks some younger women, she looks and then nods her head when she that I’m beside Y/n. “Thanks Maria.” Y/n calls out as we start to walk back. 

“Are you okay Negan?” she asks, I nod my head simply. Not yet wanting to get into the fact that for the past few months I’ve been inching closer, and closer to a feeling that I’m not sure what to do with. The feel of admiration, of love. The first love I’ve felt in since the world went to shit. We walk past the court filled with all sorts of people, and for a moment the look of confusion is written all over Y/n’s face. 

“I thought you said we were getting lunch?” She questions me, “We are, in the room. I don’t eat out here. The crowds of people are to loud to have a nice pleasant lunch.” I tell her simply, before grabbing her hand and walking side by side with her to the bedroom. When we walk in the smell of food hits both us like a slap in the face, or rather a slap in the mouth. “Do you want to shower before we eat?” I ask her, noticing thatthe grim is stuck in her hair, and the blood looks worse under these lights then outside. 

She looks down, noticing the things I had. Shaking her head she drops the knife onto the countertop, and then she starts to shift through her clothes. “Are you sure you want to get clean clothes are dirty?” Y/n laughs at my comment, “I didn’t even notice.” So, instead she slips off the black boots. “I’ll grab you something to wear, and you can take your shower.” The food can be forgotten for now. I don’t see a problem with waiting on her. She stands there for a moment before simple walking over and kissing my cheek. Something as sweet as that for which I do not feel like I deserve makes me feel like a teenager in highschool all over again. 

Y/n makes me feel like a fucking teenager who’s crush has finally said something to them, touched them for the first time. With that small notion of care within her kiss to my cheek, my cock stirs to life within my jeans. She skips off leaving me standing there when the doors shuts, and the water turns on that is when i start to go through her clothes. 

Some drawers are filled with large shirts that she tends to use to go to sleep in. One drawer is dedicated to just jeans, for what I’m thinking about doing there’s no need for Y/n to be going back outside for the rest of the day. I grab a loose t-shirt, a pair of sweats, and of course a pair of panties. The blue fabric with the same frilly sides, and little bow on the front of them. If I were anything less then a man I would have pocketed them for a later use. 

I refold the clothes into a nice pile, and knock on the bathroom door before entering. The sheer shower curtain gives little tothe imagination. “You can just leave them on the counter Negan.” She yells over the water pressure, and when I do leave them there. There’s a part of me that would love to strip down and hop in the shower behind her. 

Grab her by the hips, pull her up against me. And finally slip myself inside that tight pussy of hers. To hear her moans bounce off the shower walls, to know that her hand would be pressed into the wall just below mine as I fucked her good and hard. It places me in a fantasy for which my cock is happy to contiune to be apart of. Something pulse me out though, pulls me out of my dream like fantasy. A humming of sorts that turns into a little voice bouncing off the walls. Then into a full song, Y/n singing in the shower, her eyes probably closed as she lathers her hair with shampoo, or washes down her body with soap. That idea alone has me weak in the knees. But I know I can’t do any of that, I can’t push her into it. It’s got to be of her free will, she has to want to move past blowjobs here, and me eating out her pussy. 

When Y/n comes out of the bathroom, she’s already dressed in the clothes i placed on the counter. She rubs down her thighs. “Feelin’ better?” I ask her, as water droplets roll down her shoulders and soak into the fabric. She yawns “Much cleaner now.” Y/n says with a giggle. “Lunch now?” I ask her, she nods her head. The food probably hasn’t gone cold, but to be sure I had left the plate covers on. 

Y/n settles next to me. Her knees bumping into mine, shoulders brushing up against each other. She’s wet, and warm. “Did you use all the hot water?” I tease, she looks up at the ceiling. “Maybe…” She teases back. I remove the covers and the flavors of the food whaftes into the air. “I hope venison is okay?” I ask her, she nods her head. “You don’t know how much probably really bad food I ate while I was out there.” She says shifting things on the table to make room for both plates. “What’d mean?” Cutting into the meat of the deer, the knife grinds into the plate for a second. 

“I just mean that I was out there by myself for a while, and let’s be honest people freaked out pretty quickly. Nothing was left in the stores, or gas stations.’ She said before digging into her own plate of venison. “You know I wonder how many other people tried to survive like you but weren’t strong enough?” It’s not really a question by any means, just an open thought. Sure people are strong, but nobody was prepared for a zombie fuckin’ apocalypse. “I’m not sure how other people. I honestly didn’t see anybody else the entire time I was out there, if you’re not counting walkers.” Y/n looks down at the plate of food. “Just glad I finally found good place.” It’s almost under her breathe. 

Beers come out of the mini fridge. “A beer for you?” I ask her as I set the empty lunch plates on the counter top and out of the way of the coffee table. She yawns once more, but nods her head in my direction. I grab another bottle by the neck. Cold on my finger tips, as I walk back to the couch where Y/n seems to get more comfortable. I press the cold bottom of one of the bottles into her neck, instead of shrieking and pushing me away. Y/n leans into the cold, “You can’t get me Negan.” Her words set a challenge in my head, I could most definitely get her, swoop her off her feet, grab and put her in my lap. “Are you sure of that Y/n?” An arched brow as I sit back besides her, she smiles sweetly, before gabbing the bottle out of my hand. “I noticed that Frankie hasn’t come around at all.” Y/n says, not that it’s the conversation I want to have right now damping the good mood that I thought was going on. 

I take a swing of the beer, tingling my taste buds. “I let… they’re gone…” Her eyes light then dim, and then light back up. “Like what does that mean?” She ask with a serious voice. Trying to hide her excitement. “It’s just you my dear.” The words feel odd on my tongue, but there’s a feeling in the bottom of the my stomach that makes me righteous. Like what i’ve done is all for the good, just for the two of us. Her cheeks fill with a pink blush, as she sets her opened beer on the side table and shifts herself to rest on my lap. 

We aren’t tipsy, not that a beer or even two could make me close to tispy. Y/n is in my lap, her sweats stretch as her thighs sit opposite of mine, her arms wrap around my neck hands locked together. She’s so pretty just sitting here on my lap with nothing behind her eyes. Her confidence grows every single time we are together. 

The smile that shifts into a smirk on her face is addicting. Her hips grind up against me, my hands landing on her hips helping her keep her motions solid. Y/n leans forward connecting our lips together in a chaotic kiss. Lips mashing together, teeth scraping against each others. Tongues dancing around each other. My fingers digging into the fabric of her sweats, probably leaving bruises in their wake. 

Her moans bounce around and towards the back of my throat, as I rake her forward. Bitting my bottom lip dragging it away as Y/n leaves the kiss. Confidence oozing from her as she rips off the t-shirt, landing somewhere on the floor aside us. Breasts bounces as the fab ric releases them from their prison, nipples budding as the cold air hits them. Y/n grips at the hem of my shirt to pull it up and over my shoulder, her hands hit my skin. A cold to warm contrast. Cold hands scraping down my chest as Y/n leans in pressing a few kisses into my neck and chest, before returning her attention to where my neck and shoulder meet. 

Her lips wrap around the pulse point in my neck, sucking and licking as she leaves a hickey on my skin. “Are you markin’ me pretty girl?” I ask through a groans as her hip continue to flex over my own. She hums into my skin, “such a good girl.” She returns my words with a hard grind of her hips. The restriction of my jeans leaving me a hard mess, my cock pressed into her wet center every time she grinds up on me. 

I pick her up with ease, “Where are we goin’?” Y/n asks already sounding cock drunk. “To the bed, because as much as I want to be a getneleman and wait for you to say that I can fuck this tight cunt, I’m tired of waiting.” I groan into her ear, she shivers in my hold but doesn’t seem to be backing down from the idea. There’s no condoms, not left anyways. So it’s the pullout game for me, or I can bury my cock deep in the wet, warm cunt of hers. I lay her gently on the bed, stripping of her sweats, and panties. A wet spot sporting them, and I can’t help the smirk that filters onto my face, and I sucepts that Y/n can’t help the blush that seeps into her cheeks and ears. 

I remove my jeans with ease as to not aggravate my hard on in my boxer. I get down onto my knees het again the show of age in my knees as they creak. “NO!” I look up at Y/n, her eyes are wide with pleases written all of them. “No what?” I ask her, my brows knitted together, “I love your mouth on me, but please NE-gan please just fuck me with your cock please!” She begs as she rests herself up on her elbows. I can’t deny her, and as much as I would love to get my lips around her swollen clit. My knees and body give thanks to her. “Alright, baby don’t worry I’ll fuck you go and proper. Won’t be walking for days.” I ensure her, as I throw off my boxers. Landing them into the piles of discarded clothes. 

Y/n opens her legs wide, letting me slot my hips between her plush thighs. Everything about her makes my cock stand right up to attention, but Y/n is getting imptantet dragging a hand down her belly to her dripping cunt. But it’s not that she bring her attention to, her soft hand gently grabs ahold of me. Lining me up with her entrance. “Please Negan,” Y/n begs, I want to see how much longer I can get her to beg me, but I can’t deny myself any longer. 

At first she’s so tight hat I fear I’ve died right there and gone to hell, “Loosen up baby, gotta let me in.” I praise her, as I bring a hand up from her navel up to the valley of her breats to her neck. Her own hand wraps around mine. She’s tense and I can feel it, “Look at me,” Her eyes open wide as she looks up at me, “Breathe with me yeah.” She takes in a shake first breathe and with every breathe I inch myself further and further into her cunt. Y/n pratically pulls me in the rst of the way, her legs wrap around my wasit locking me in, her arms come to lock around my neck. I let my hips loose, fucking her into the matters with no plan to ease up. Y/n’s eyes roll into the back of her head, but she looses up around me, her lock on my waist, and neck allowing me to get a hand between the two of us to play with her clit. 

“Oh fu-fuck.” She moans out, “God I feel so full right now!” She screams out, “Yeah that’s good baby, like how good my cock makes you feel?” I ask her knowing she’s too cock drunk to anwer my question. My thumb on her clit works with haste, she’s already squeezing me tightly but every flicker of my wrist, and thumb her sqquezes me tighter and tiger. “Are you gonna cum pretty girl?” I ask her pressing kisses into her warm flesh. She hums, “Words love words.” I whispers into her skin, “Oh fuck don’t stop, just like that.” The sound of skin slapping against skin hitting the walls. “NE-gan I’m, i’m gonn’…” Her eyes roll over, her mouth left gapping open. A silent scream that probably only a dog could hear. 

I continue to move my hips fucking her through her first orgasm of the night. Her breath is ragged, and when she comes to, she grabs for me. Pulling me down to met her lips once more, “Do you want me to stop?” I ask her, She shakes her head, “Don’t you ever stop.” Y/n begs me, good I think, now lets try something else. “You try something new?” I ask her, she hums. I slip out and she whines at the empty feeling. I shift getting up on the bed, my back pressed into the mattress. “Come here.” I beckon her, she crawl over to me on her hands and knees. “You wanna be a cowgirl?” She looks at with confusion. “Come sit on my lap. Y/n throws her legs over my waist, “And now I’m just gonna slip myself right back into this delicious cunt of hers.” I say as I slip mtself in, and she lowers herself down on my cock. Her eyes light up and her mouth hangs open. My hands land on her hips, helping her with the first few bounces and then she’s got it all under control. Her hands pressed into my chest, and her tits bouncing with each thurst of her hips down. The wet sound of her gushing cunt, and how Y/n throws her head back in estacsy as she gets closer and closer to the edge that’s just that much closer now. My hands have a mind of their own when they grip at her tits, she leans down letting my play with her budded nipples. Rolling them between my forefinger and thumb, before popping one into my mouth with ease. A hand that used to be on my chest lands in my hair pulling me closer to her chest. 

I know Y/n’s right on the edge, because her fingers flex hard around my hair and she moans loudly. I relish in the way she pulls me in tight as I loose myself before I have the time to pull out and cum. My hips ruts up agasint hers and we lose to each other at the same time. “FUCK NEGAN!” She screams and shouts at the tops of her lungs, my head falls into her skin, mumbles of curses and words that I’m not sure are real fall from my lips. I’m sure of it that most of the sanctuary have heard Y/n by now. 

We stay linked together, and by the time our breathing has returned to normal, she whines when I slip from her, begging me not to leave. I press a chaste kiss into her forehead. “I’ll be right back; I gotta clean up our mess,” I tell her Y/n looks sad but nods that she understands her head falling into a pillow. I leave for only a moment to grab a washcloth to wipe down her inner thighs and another to press into her warm skin. Whispering praises into her skin and kisses every few moments.

Completed on: 08/20/21

Posted on: 08/21/23

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