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xoxo-sarah · 7 days

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Ms. Perfect

↝a/n: this is an old idea that I had in the back of my notes app. Oops.

↝pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

↝warning: death, widow!Reader, apocalypse, mean! Daryl, swearing, not proofread

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 4.23.24

Daryl wasn't sure why he hated you so much. You were nice to everyone around you, even understanding. But the sight of you makes the blood in his veins boil.

It became a routine; you and him sniping at each other, digging up trauma neither of you really wanted to. He just got under your skin. Like now.

“Sorry, in case you haven' noticed, the world ain't all rainbows and sunshine anymore. We don't shit money to buy the newest thing. Life is different, Doll. Get used to it.” He drawled, his eyebrows scrunched together.

There he goes again.

You weren't even talking to or about him, but he had heard you. That had been enough for him to butt in, apparently.

Ever since you had stumbled your way into Daryl's group early on, Daryl had had it out for you. At the creek, he would be pointing out how your hair had to have been done recently. Your jewelry, clothes, how smooth your skin looked from the expensive moisturizers and night creams you had to use, your newly manicured nails- ignoring the dirt and blood underneath-, and the shine in your eyes. You didn't have the shine at first, but when you would hang out with Carol, you would smile, and the recent glazed look was gone.

Your eyes shone brightly like the stars in the countryside. Not that you would know. You probably never had the chance to see how bright the stars shone in the city.

You were unbothered by the people at the campsite, keeping to yourself. You didn't have to worry about anything when the world was built for your liking and convenience.

Daryl despised you and that god-awful rock on your finger that could feed him for probably 6 months to a year. He glared at the ring every chance he got—so much so that you eventually yanked it off, throwing it in the murky pond.

Even after leaving the campsite, you stayed with the group, arguing with Daryl along the way.

“I get it, you're used to having people do everything for you, but we're not always going to be with you, Princess. Sorry life now is so much different from your perfect life before.” For a quiet guy, he always had so much to say to you. All negative.

You bit your cheek, glancing from Maggie—who you were originally talking to—to the dirty man in front of you. "Yeah-I had the perfect life. I had the fiancé that I couldn't wait to marry. I had the apartment that I had the luxury to design with my mother, gushing about the difference wallpapers." You smiled at the memory. Your mother had been so happy for you. "I had the fluffy dog that had its own room. I had the dad who would always talk about playing catch with his future grandchild. I had the money where I didn't have to worry about anything in life." You didn't falter as you felt behind your eyes begin to burn. " I did, alright? I had the life that almost every little girl dreams about. But it was yanked out of my hands, like everyone else's. One day, I didn't wake up to my fiancé kissing me, or the smell of burnt toast-- cause he didn't know how to cook. I woke up to him nowhere in sight. Instead, I heard yelling outside the door, car horns honking outside of the windows. When I opened the door, I saw my neighbors with white eyes, growling and clawing at the skin of the man I was going to marry and grow old with. His screams will haunt me 'til the day I die. But you will not ever hear me feeling bad for myself. I did have the perfect life, but that doesn't matter now. So, get over -yourself-, cause I am just trying to survive just like you."

Daryl watched your eyes gloss over, your nostrils flare. You were rightfully pissed. And right. He hadn't heard you weep for your past-- ever. You had jumped right into survival mode as soon as he laid eyes on you. You had held your own too- most people called you a badass, Daryl wouldn't let himself verbally agree. With that, you turned and walked away. Maggie shuffled awkwardly, glancing from you to Daryl. She wore a disappointed frown.

Weeks. You ignored his existence for weeks, 2 weeks to be exact. Everytime he would go up to you, you would walk away. Even if you were in the middle to a conversation. The person you were talking to wouldn't mind, really. They would've known about your bitter back-and-forth. They wouldn't think anything of it.

Daryl just wishes you would give him a chance to at least try to apologize. After you had let your walls down and told him about what the end of the world was like for you, he felt bad - pathetic, even. He was so jealous about how you lived before the outbreak, he didn't care about how it had affected you. He should've.

The moonlight led him towards your house, his hands fidgeting. The streets were silent, everyone already in bed. He hadn't been able to sleep. The thought of you kept him up in a different way than before.

His knuckles hovered over your door. You had to be in bed. Was it worth it? You would probably be too tired to yell at him. He knocked.

It took a minute for the door to open. You stood, rubbing sleep from your eyes, a sleep frown on your face. At the sight in front of you, your hand dropped, your sleepy eyes immediately rolling in annoyance. "Oh my god-" You tried to close the door, but his boot caught it before it could close all the way. "Move your foot, Dixon."

"Listen." His eyes were pleading, something you weren't used to. You kept the door open when he reluctantly moved his boot. " 'm sorry."

You scoffed, Sure, you are."

" 'm serious. " He looked at the floor as he brought his hand up, turning it and showing his hand. "Not sure why I kept it." At the sight of your ring, tears bordered your eyes. Your head pressed against the side of the door as your body shook with a silent sob. Daryl didn't look at you. He let you grieve for whatever you wanted to in that moment. He let you have that moment. After your sobs died down, his calloused hand took yours, opening your hand and dropping the ring into your palm.

"You're a dick." You hiccupped.

"I know."

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

#xoxo-sarah 🩷#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #twd imagines #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead angst #the walking dead x you #🐿️

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babyyblues · 1 year

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for the prompt list.. #14 with daryl. preferably reader is the one who says it to daryl 🙏

#14. "Look at you a blushing mess" era: farm (no spoilers) warnings: soft daryl !!!

“Hey pumpkin, can I join ya?” you asked lowly, looking up at Daryl as he sat atop the RV. He ignored the way his ears burned, as he gave you a curt nod continuing to watch out upon the field of the Greene farm.

“What did I tell ya bout them nicknames,” he grumbled, holding his hand out for you as you climbed up, settling in beside him close enough for your thighs to brush against each other.

“That you love them and I should definitely keep doing it,” you sneered, reaching out for his hand to intertwine your fingers. He froze at the sudden contact before relaxing in your grip, subconsciously allowing his thumb to rub against your smooth skin.

“Lucky I like you,” he mumbled, looking over at you, unable to stop the spread of his lips as his eyes landed on your smile as you chuckled.

“You love it, and you love me,” you teased, puckering your lips, your silent way of asking for a kiss. He rolled his eyes yet didn’t hesitate to press his lips against yours, once, then twice, and three times before pulling back to look at you.

“I do love ya,” he whispered.

“I know you do sweetheart, and I’m the luckiest girl in this damned world,” you confirmed, placing your hand on the bottom of his jaw. You watched as his face reddened, feeling the heat from his cheeks radiate in your hand.

“Look at you, a blushing mess,” you murmured, scratching lightly at the scruff that graced his chin. He scoffed, pulling away from you as you laughed quietly.

“Get out o’ here, you’re distractin’ me,” he joked, squeezing your hand before pulling you as close as you could get to him before actually sitting on his lap.

“Can’t get rid of me that easily Dixon, ‘m here for the long run.” Looking back up at him, you placed a sweet kiss on his neck and cuddled into his side as a strong breeze hit.

You sat in comfortable silence under the stars, letting your eyes shut as you listened to the crickets and Daryl’s soft breath.

“Gettin’ tired?” he asked lowly, running his hand up and down your side.

“No, just enjoying the moment.”

“Enjoying watching for walkers and danger?” You huffed out a laugh, flickering your eyes open to see him already looking at you.

“No, enjoying being here with you. Alive, safe, and in love.”

“Don’ get all cheesy on me,” Daryl said a small smile on his lips.

“Can’t help it, jus’ love you ‘s all. This is the first time since this whole thing started-” you cut yourself off with a yawn, “that I’ve felt so secure.”

“Knew you were tired, you should go rest.”

“Stop trying to get rid of me, ‘m not leaving your side.” you quipped, changing your position so your head lay on his lap and you were looking up at him.

“Stubborn pain in my ass,” he mumbled under his breath running his hand through your hair, before pulling his jacket off to lay across your body as another gust of wind burst through the air.

“Sleep here then.” You nodded, yawning once more before turning to get comfortable.

“Goodnight pookie,” you slurred.

“Y/n,” he scoffed earning a chuckle from you. He reached down to pinch at your side, causing you to jerk as you laughed. Shaking his head, he continued his movement in your hair to calm you back down.

“Goodnight.”

#daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixion x reader #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead fluff #the walking dead fic #the walking dead #the walking dead angst #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon drabbles

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bloatedandalone04 · 6 days

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The Lucky Ones - Part 2

➪the one where you and rick reunite after the events at the prison.

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of blood, swearing, mentions of digging around in the undead, guns, takes place in season 5

Word Count: 3k | Part 1

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Judith was crying again, and no matter what Tyreese did, she didn’t seem to want to stop. “C’mon, baby girl,” he huffed, bouncing her in his arms.

You look over from your spot on a fallen tree, your fingers tangled in Lizzie’s messy hair. It was clear that Tyreese was having a hard time calming the baby down, and while it was a bit amusing, being quiet right now was a priority. “Hey,” you call out to him. “Want me to take her?”

“Please,”

You laugh quietly and get up, squeezing Lizzie’s shoulder before making your way over to Tyreese. “Come here, sweet girl,” you coo when you take Judith from him. “Shh, you’re okay. You’re alright.”

Tyreese huffed again as he moved to sit next to the small fire you had started, confused at how you managed to get Judith to stop crying within just a few seconds. “I don’t know how you do it,” he muttered, poking the fire with a stick. “You had kids before all this?”

“No,” you answer, brushing Judith’s hair away from her forehead before taking the bottle from Mika. “I was a nurse. Spent a year looking after my mom before everything went to hell. She was like a kid in a way. I used to rely on her, then suddenly she relied on me. I had to feed her, bathe her, and dress her. Never thought that would’ve prepared me for something like this.”

Tyreese grunted, setting the stick aside and looking over at you. “You’re a natural,”

You smile at that, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. You’d been one of the many people that have been taking care of Judith since she was born, but being one of the three to do it now was something else entirely.

When the Governor tried taking control of the prison and caused what could only be described as a riot, you were left behind with Tyreese, Mika and Lizzie. The older sister actually ended up saving both you and Tyreese when you were backed into a corner, and when you tried to convince them to go find Rick, you were outvoted. You were outvoted by a couple of fucking kids.

So you fled with them into the trees and had been walking through the forests ever since. You would give anything to be able to be with him right now, but instead you were left looking after his kid. You didn’t mind, but you just wished you knew whether he was okay and alive or not.

Carol took your spot on the tree and began braiding Lizzie’s hair as you hummed softly to Judith. She was beginning to fall asleep in your arms, and soon enough, Carol, Lizzie and Mika were all sleeping while Tyreese took the first watch. “You want me to take her? So you can get some sleep?”

“No, I got her,” you mumble and move to sit next to him.

You sit in silence for a while, with Tyreese adding sticks to the fire every so often and you gently rocking Judith. Your mind drifted back to Rick and Carl and Maggie and Glenn. Were they okay? Were they alive?

The last thing you saw was Rick getting shot in the leg then everything went to shit. Guns went off and fires were started, and you lost sight of pretty much everyone besides Tyreese. You wanted to run out to Rick, to help him, but there were just too many people and too many walkers. You didn’t stand a chance. With everything in you, you were praying to anyone who might be listening that he is still alive, and that he’s looking for you.

Like how you’re looking for him.

You stare at the fire as you trace random shapes onto Judith’s arm with your thumb, lost in your own head. “Everything happened so fast,” you murmur, catching Tyreese’s attention. “Just a few days ago we were all safe and together. Now we don’t even know if everyone’s still alive.”

“We just have to keep looking,” he said, and you knew he was trying to comfort you, but you felt hopeless right now.

“I wanted to go back for him,” you confess. “When we were leaving. I was going to go back, but I couldn’t get to him. I couldn’t find him.”

Tyreese looked over at you in surprise. “None of us could get to him,” he assured you. “Rick is strong. He’s stronger than any of us. I know he made it out, him and Carl both.”

There was no way to be sure of that, but you appreciated his words nonetheless. “I remember when I first saw him at that store back in Atlanta. Glenn can tell you that I was in love with him the second I laid eyes on him. It felt like nothing else mattered, then he found his wife and son and I was sure nothing would happen between us.”

Tyreese let out a quiet laugh, leaning back on the log and taking off his hat. “Look at you now,” he teased. “That man is head over heels for you.”

That was true.

Not long after you broke things off with Shane, Rick and Lori began having some issues. They split up long before she found out she was pregnant with Judith, and around her three month mark was when Rick finally allowed himself to begin something with you.

That something turned into an official relationship, and you’d been almost inseparable ever since.

He told you to stay with Daryl and Carl when the Governor and his posse showed up, but then you got separated from both of them and wound up defending Tyreese in a different part of the prison yard.

You smile at the memory of the first kiss you shared with Rick. Then your heart twisted a bit. You missed him so much. You missed everyone.

“Feels like forever ago,” you whisper. “I hope they’re okay. I hope he’s okay.”

Tyreese gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “You’ll find each other. Right now you just need to focus on looking after his little girl and worry about the rest later,”

You knew he was right, so you gave him a tight smile and nod.

“What do you think Y/n is doing right now?” Carl asked as he sat on the couch next to Rick. He dug through the stale cereal bag and gathered some in his palm, tossing them into his mouth afterwards.

“I don’t know,” Rick answered, leaning forward on his knees as he tried to think of where to go from here. The couch was pressed against the door, a safety measure he deemed necessary since the lock had been broken off it.

His face was sore and still a bit bruised, and the days he’s spent on this couch felt like a bit of a waste when he could be out there looking for his group. Looking for you.

“Do you think she’s by herself?” Carl continued to ask him questions about you that Rick had no idea the answers to. He was losing hope as the days went on, though a very small part of him believed that you were out there somewhere, and that maybe you or someone else had managed to grab Judith on the way out of the prison yard.

“I don’t know,” he answered his son’s question with a stern voice, trying to tell him to be quiet without actually saying the words.

“Do you think she made it out?”

“I don’t know, Carl,” Rick nearly yelled, causing Carl to jump slightly. Rick lowered his voice and looked back at the floor once he saw the way Carl reacted to his outburst. “I don’t know what she’s doing, I don’t know who she’s with and I don’t know if she made it out. Just stop asking me questions that I don’t know the answers to, please.”

Honestly, Rick couldn’t stand the thought of you not having made it out of the prison. He left you with Daryl and Carl, and now he was with Carl with no sign of you or Daryl, and he felt lost.

Carl had told him that he and Daryl got separated, and how he saw you with Tyreese last, but that was all the information he had. He didn’t know where you went after that, and he didn’t know if you had managed to get out of the area you had been backed into.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Carl mumbled, setting the bag aside and leaning back against the couch. “I’m sure we’ll see her again, we just need to start looking.”

“Yeah,” Rick agreed, spinning his wedding band around on his finger. He had no idea why he is still wearing it, him and Lori are very much done and over with and had been for a long time now, so why was he still wearing his ring?

He looked down at the gold band, then without a second thought, he slid it off his finger and put it in his pocket, and thankfully Carl didn’t notice him doing that. He was still mourning his mom, and still getting used to you and Rick, the last thing needed was to see his dad move on completely from her.

“Yeah,” Rick said again. “We’ll start looking for her. We’ll start looking for all of them.”

He couldn’t lose you. He already lost so many people, and he was still recovering from watching the nicest man he had ever met get almost decapitated. He couldn’t lose you too.

When Carol gestured for you to dig around inside the walker she just put down, you didn’t hesitate like you normally would. You didn’t get grossed out or feel nauseous. How could you?

Rick might be alive.

Michonne and Carl were definitely alive, since you heard the piece of shit Terminus guy say he was going to kill them.

They’re alive.

You blended right in, and when Carol blew up one of the tanks littered around Terminus, you and her were able to slip in amongst the walkers. Gunfire was heard all around as the large number of walkers made their way through the poorly protected walls of Terminus, and when you found yourself in a storage room, a feeling of rage took over you.

There were countless things in there; teddy bears, weapons, jewelry, clothes, blankets, and anything else you could imagine a defenseless person would have. Carol found Daryl’s crossbow among the weapons, and you found Rick’s watch among the jewelry. These people were sick, taking things from people who were just trying to survive with what they have.

You were livid as you and Carol slashed and shot your way through the crowds of walkers and Terminus people, and before long you were granted the one thing you’d be wishing for ever since you and Tyreese made it out of the prison.

Rick, Daryl, Bob and Glenn let Maggie, Michonne, Carl, Sasha and three other people you had never seen before out of a train cart, then they were fleeing to the forest.

You were frozen in shock, tears gathered along your water lines before Carol was pulling you with her as she took off after them. You were so relieved to see that mostly everyone had made it out, and that Rick, though he was a bit bloody, is okay.

You stumbled alongside Carol as she followed the group, and when they stopped a good distance away, you could hear Rick’s deep voice as he declared that they were going back to finish the job.

Stopping behind some bushes, you watched the group argue for a bit before Carol stepped away from the greenery and revealed herself. Almost instantly she was wrapped up in Daryl’s arms, and you watched the reunion with burning eyes as you revealed yourself as well.

Rick opened his mouth to say something to Carol, then his gaze flickered over to you and any words he was going to say died on his tongue. Your eyes glazed over again and you froze in your spot, and the last thing you heard was the relieved sigh Daryl let out as he took both you and Carol in, then you were wrapped up in Rick’s arms.

His grip on you was the tightest it’s ever been, and you couldn’t breathe in the best way. You squeeze your eyes shut as you cling onto any part of him you can, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care that the group, as well as the three new people, were witnessing you sobbing against Rick’s chest.

You spent days with Tyreese, Carol and the girls, and after what happened with Lizzie and Mika, you were beginning to lose the little amount of hope you had left. You were terrified that the people you called your family were dead or lost somewhere.

But here they are. Beth was missing, and though you were scared to know what happened to her, you couldn’t deny just how happy and grateful you are that you were reunited with most of them.

“Y/n,” Rick mumbled and you held onto him tighter. “I thought you were gone.”

It sounded like those words physically pained him to say, and you shake your head before burying your face against the side of his neck. “I’m here,” you cry, reaching up to grip his shoulder. “I’m right here.”

Rick pulled back and gently gripped your jaw, his eyes taking in your features as if he still couldn’t believe you were right there in front of him. “You got out,” he rasped, his thumb stroking your cheek with a barely-there pressure.

You nod, tangling your hands in his damp hair. “With Tyreese, we found Carol a few days later,” you tell him then quickly add, “Well, she found us.”

Rick smiled at your words and it was the prettiest thing you’ve seen in weeks. “You got out,” he murmured, so quiet you barely heard it.

You just nod again and push yourself upwards. Rick meets you halfway and kisses you multiple times, making you laugh against his mouth. “I got out,” you whisper and press a few kisses to his cheek and jaw, then you are wrapped up in his arms again.

Carl makes his way over to you just as Rick reluctantly lets you go and hugs Carol, and you smile down at your boyfriend’s son, who just wraps his arms around your middle and hugs you tight. “Hey, buddy,” you greet quietly, draping your arms over his shoulders as you glance back at Rick.

“Hey,” Carl said back, looking up at you with relieved eyes and a look you’d never seen from him. “Missed you.”

Your lips part in a silent gasp, not used to hearing those kinds of words from him. You were sure he was still a bit upset that you were with his dad instead of his mom now, but were pleasantly proven wrong as he squeezed you one last time before stepping away. “I missed you,” you’re finally able to say as Rick comes back over and pulls you into his side. “And you.”

He grinned down at you and kissed the top of your head just as the red haired man speaks up, “You guys are the luckiest sons of bitches I’ve ever met,”

You furrow your brows as Glenn laughs, wrapping his arm around Maggie’s waist. “We’re not lucky very often,”

“Yeah, well, both you and Rick here found your better halves,” the man said and adjusted the strap on his gun. “I’d say that’s pretty lucky. It’s a miracle we got out of that damn train, too.”

“That wasn’t luck,” Daryl grunted as he looked between you and Carol, and it was then when Rick clued in.

He tightened his hold on you as he asked, “That was you two, wasn’t it?”

You shrug while Carol lets out a rare, short lived laugh. “I couldn’t lose you again,” you mumble. “Not when I hadn’t even gotten you back yet.”

Rick falls silent at that, and he locks his jaw in the way that told you he’s holding back his emotions right now. He pulls you into his arms again and kisses the top of your head, muttering, “Thank you,” once he pulls away.

“There’s something else,” Carol says, making everyone look over at her. “But I think we should show you rather than tell you.”

And that was how you found yourself wrapped up in Glenn’s arms once Rick finally let you go after he saw that Judith was alive and being held by Tyreese. You return your best friend’s hug as you watch Rick cry quietly, taking Judith from the man who protected her with his life for as long as you’ve been separated.

Maggie comes over to you and hugs you as well as Carl runs over to hug his sister, and the whole thing was like something straight out of a movie as you felt a warmth take over you.

You were back with your family. They were all alive. They were okay.

The two men share a look as Rick realizes that he had Tyreese to thank for keeping Judith safe, then Sasha is hugging her brother with tears in her eyes. You pull away from Maggie as Rick hands Judith to Carl, then you are engulfed in his embrace. “Thank you,” his voice was raspy and his breathing was uneven, and you could tell he was on the verge of tears again as he held you tight. “I thought she was gone. I thought Judith was gone.”

You hugged him back, sniffling quietly. “We had to grab her quickly, we just took what we could before getting out of there,”

Rick pulled away and kissed you, his hands reaching up to grip either side of your face. “I love you,” he mumbled, tangling his fingers in your hair as he kissed your forehead. “I love you so much. Thank you for keeping her safe, all of you.” He glances back at Carol and Tyreese, who just nod at him, then he is focused back on you.

“I love you,” came your hushed reply, and you leaned in to rest your head against his shoulder, finally feeling safe for the first time in what felt like forever.

#rick grimes imagine #rick grimes imagines #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes angst #rick grimes fluff #the walking dead angst #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead imagines #twd x reader #twd fluff #twd imagine #twd imagines #twd #twd rick #rick grimes #twd fanfiction

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captain-tch · 7 months

Text

Closet (Daryl Dixon x PlatonicFem!Reader)

You had been hiding a part of yourself for years, it only took the world to end to finally speak your truth.

You stood on Aaron and Eric's porch, bracing yourself against the railing. They had prepared dinner for yourself and Daryl, as payment for bringing some spices back from a supply run. It was a lovely gesture, and it made you hate yourself even more when you couldn't stand to be in their company for too long. It was the hand holding, the loving gazes, the inside jokes. It was the way they shared gentle touches, so openly and so in love. It was the kisses and the laughs and the smiles.

It was hard to recognise the nasty feeling festering in your gut. It turned your gaze green and made yourself bitter.

You were jealous.

You shook your head, leaning back, trying to let the night wind wipe your sadness away. You wanted to push past this feeling - Aaron and Eric were lovely people, good people, yet you felt yourself turning sour the longer you spent in their company.

The door clicked softly behind you. You jerked, frantically wiping a hand at your cheeks. You turned, expecting to see Aaron or Eric wondering why you hadn't come back in after twenty minutes, but it was Daryl. You smiled weakly, secretly grateful that you didn't have to endure being in the presence of the lovebirds. Even on their own they managed to ooze cupid's scent.

"Hey." Daryl stood beside you, turning to look up at the night sky. The stars twinkled back. "Beautiful night."

You nodded in agreement, attempting to muster the energy to talk, to explain your disappearance.

"Food was good."

You nodded again.

Daryl sighed, playing with his fingers, tugging softly at the cuticles. "Look, ya know I'm no good at this small talk shit. I think we've been friends long enough to skip that crap, and you've been acting like this ever since we got here. Distant."

You bit your lower lip, taking comfort in gnawing at the skin. Your heart wanted to spill it all, to let loose your truth, but your fear kept you trapped.

"Did Aaron or Eric do somethin' to ya?"

You were that shocked at the thought you snapped your head to his. "No. They've been nothing but kind."

"Then what the hell is it?"

"I -" You averted your gaze, keeping your eyes glued firmly to the wood of the porch. "I can't tell you." You muttered, hating how water splashed on your cheeks. Your heart pounded in your chest.

Daryl reached forward, softly grabbing you under the chin, turning you to face him. You tried to muster a smile, though it did nothing to hide the tears freely pouring down. "You're cryin'."

Your hand moved to your cheek absentmindedly, aggressively wiping the wet away. Defeated, you pulled yourself away from Daryl, slumping to the floor feeling as if the world was trying to pull you down.

A beat of silence passed, then two. You wanted to speak; the ball in your throat choked the words. "Whatever it is, ya can tell me."

You pulled your chin into your knees, shoulders sagging. Your chest felt tight, the possibility of letting the truth pass your lips stealing your breath. But then you spotted Daryl at the edge of your vision, his brows creased in concern. He was your closest friend, your greatest confidant. You had told him about your night terrors, and he slept beside you, a moment away, to protect you from the monsters haunting the land of dreams. You leaned on him when you had killed in self defence. You relied on him to watch your back on runs, and he hadn't failed you yet.

He hadn't outright spoken to you of his past; he had let his lips loosen more around you than anyone else. He showed you the cigarette burns - never his back. You never dared to ask, knowing that was one private terror he would spill in his own time.

This man would never judge you. He would never press for more if you weren't ready, and he definitely would never leave your side. He was your platonic soul mate.

You released a heavy breath, scooting along to make room for him. Your voice was as quiet as a mouse - as a hunter you knew he heard. "I've never told anyone."

Daryl was quiet, accepting your invitation and settling in beside you. He didn't move to comfort you; he sat close enough to know he was there.

You clenched your fingers into your palm, the pain of the nails biting into the skin distracting you for the self destructive thoughts whizzing around in your head. "I'm jealous of them."

"Why?"

He's going to walk away, your brain whispered. He's going to leave you and you will be all alone surrounded by people. He's going to sneer at you and ignore your existence.

A large, calloused hand pried your fingers out of their fists. The skin of your palms cried in relief, sharp indents speckled with blood released into the air. You looked up at Daryl, and at his hand.

You screamed at the voices in your mind, uttering the words you never spoke aloud. "Because they're living their truth, they're not afraid."

Daryl stared at your crumpled form, it taking a moment to sink in. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water - no one had ever told him this kind of thing before, he had no idea how to respond. Turns out Daryl didn't need to worry, because the moment you started talking you unlocked the door you had kept barred shut for years.

"I've known ever since I was a teenager, kept it as quiet as I could. I dated, but it never went past the first date. I couldn't... be myself, and I think it's because I couldn't accept myself, and I think my dates could sense that too." You laughed darkly. "You know how if you were applying for a job, you had to state your sexual orientation? I always put "prefer not to say" as I was afraid to admit to the world that I'm a lesbian." You looked at Daryl, trying to sense any shift in him. He hadn't started cursing you out or walked away. The doubting voices in your head quietened.

You sniffled. "I'm envious of their confidence. Their openness. Is that stupid?"

Daryl shook his head. "Nah, it's not."

"You know what the stupidest thing of all is?" You shook your head, "It's taken until the end of the world to admit out loud that I am a lesbian."

Daryl wrapped his arm around you, bringing you close. "Proud of ya."

You relished his warmth, the warmth of your best friends embrace eradicating those voices for good. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders, and you could tell him about a part of your life you had kept hidden for so long.

"Thanks."

Daryl squeezed the hug tighter around you. "Feel better?"

"Bit."

"Well, come on. Dessert is waiting." Daryl got to his feet, putting his hand out to you.

You gulped, looking at the hand, then him. "You don't think any different of me, do you?"

"Hell nah, you're still a dumbass in my eyes."

You snorted.

"And hey, I can be your wing man."

"I'd love to see that Daryl."

As you walked back into the warmth of Aaron and Eric's home, you felt a peace settle inside you. The conversation didn't solve your insecurity and anxiety, but you felt better having admitted your truth out loud to your best friend.

You were on a long journey to accept yourself, whilst dealing with the trials and tribulations an apocalypse could bring, but in that moment, you were happy.

In your mind you repeated I am a lesbian, a smile forming on your lips.

the walking dead masterlist

#the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x platonic reader #twd #twd x reader #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #twd angst #the walking dead angst #daryl dixon angst #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead x fem!reader #twd x fem!reader #daryl dixon x plantonic fem!reader

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ruewrote · 1 year

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𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦.

PAIRING: glenn rhee x fem!reader WARNINGS: strong language GENRE: angst SONG INSPIRATION: on my mind by ellie goulding WORD COUNT: 521

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it hadn't really clicked how you felt about glenn until the well situation, how he was dangling above a walker like... bait.

how your heart got caught in your throat as you watched and heaved the rope back with the others, how the tears stung in your eyes.

how you couldn't even look him or the others after the incident. separated from the group, your tent next to daryls.

glenn of course tried to talk to you multiple times, but you brushed him off. making yourself busy in the process, going on food and medical supplies.

teaching carl how to hunt and maggie how to kill the walkers.

the moment played on your mind every waking minute.

you had been with the group since the beginning, you were actually with glenn when you had found some of the others.

andrea not taking a liking to you immediately but her sister amy did.

the both of you had gotten closer since her death.

it came back around that somebody had to go further out for supplies this time. of course he volunteered. you refused.

"you can't keep letting him put himself in danger all the time, its not fair! just because he's what 'faster'?" pushing yourself onto your feet off of the couch.

"y/n it's fine really i—" he interupted but that didn't stop you from continuing.

"it's not, this is total and utter bullshit. he's been putting his life at risk since he got he and i bet he's done it before you arrived."

they all agreed for a different plan, a safer one for the boy.

the meeting was dismissed and you made your way out of the house with your head hung low. trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

grabbing a woven basket and started your chores.

slightly moving each chicken so you could grab the eggs, standing up straighter as footsteps were heard behind you.

rolling your eyes when you came face to face with glenn.

"okay seriously dude what is your problem?" still ignoring him but listened to him talk.

"first you are ignoring me, now you're sticking up for me?"

you just walked around him, stopping when he lightly grasps your arms holding you closer to his chest, face to face.

tears welling up in your eyes as you looked into his.

"i shouldn't be feeling this way. i barely even know you! it's so stupid." your words came out wobbly as you shake your head.

glenn listened whilst he wiped away the fallen tears from your cheeks.

"i-i just can't see you get hurt, you are always the one to jump to put your life in danger and no one ever second guesses it. it's not fair damnit."

"if i knew any better you'd think you've got a littl crush on me." a blush spread across your cheeks as his shoulder playfully knocks into your own.

looking at your dirty boots knock together in response.

"w-wait really?" no you're lying!"

gathering everything you had in and placed your lips against his, feeling as he almost instantly shuts up and melts in the kiss.

"woah..."

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unadulterated-syd · 1 year

Text

warnings; mention and talk of scars, walking dead warnings as per usual. Gender not specific, however, wear-age of a sports bra. (if you don't have a need for a bra, or would rather replace that with a binder please read it in a personalized manner!)

synopsis; carl notices your scars, after finding out how much you don't like them he decides to be the first to show his appreciation

a/n; this fic was a request! please go here to see request rules and here to see my master-list. thank you astrequa for requesting! <3

You weren't a stranger to pain, wounds littered your body always, but that didn't mean you had gotten used to your new look. You were just a kid, and here you stood wrapped in scars new and old. However one had always stuck out to you.

On a run when you were younger, you'd probably trace it back to being 14 or 15, out on a run on your own. You had an easy way sneaking around and finding a way to separate from the group, though it wasn't necessarily a great idea.

One day out on this run, you'd found yourself trapped in the corner of an old grocery store. biters surrounded you, you fired as many rounds as you could until 4 walkers remained. You had no other option than you use your knife, shoving the knife into ones skull, pulling back and doing the same to another.

Then your heart dropped. A sharp pain rain through your side, pulling your knife from the 3rd biter and slamming it into the skull of the 4th, who had just taken a chunk of flesh from your side. "No, no, no, no, no.." You muttered, setting your knife down as you pulled your un-used one from your thigh-holder.

You pulled a chunk of fabric from your shirt, and set it by your side. And the rest was history. You had carved the infection from you skin, and then wrapped the fabric around yourself. Somehow you had made it back to your group that night, and you'd survived to tell the tale.

But that night you regretted so much. As time went on you learned to hate it, the huge healed over intent that decorated your right hip. However, you had no intent of hiding it, you couldn't. Everyone had scars, and a part of you knew that hiding it would simply cause it to negatively affect you even more than it already did.

The Grimes' household was hotter than you would've kept your own house, that being if you had one separate from them. You'd lived with the family since your group found Alexandria, you and Carl having grown to share a room shortly after starting your relationship.

As far as you had known, Carl had gone out on a run with Rick, whilst Michonne was off in town with Judith. You pulled out your drawer, reaching in and pulling shorts and a sports bra out. The heat was too unbearable for anymore than that.

You pushed open the door to the bathroom, turning the shower handle all the way hot. You set your clothes on the counter top, before shedding your current outfit, which you threw into a hamper in the corner.

You stepped under the warm faucet, letting water run over. After you'd finished your shower, you stepped out, wrapping yourself in a warm towel. You dried yourself off before pulling your clothes on and pressing the door to the bathroom open, and stepping out. You let out a small gasp when you saw Carl laying on the bed reading one of his comics.

"Geez, Grimes, a warning would be appreciated. Where's Rick?" You hummed, getting the boys attention as you stepped further into the room, sitting on the bed beside him. "He kicked me from the run, you're stuck with me." He groaned, turning his head to look at you after setting his comic to the side.

You gave him a smile, rolling your eyes at the comment all together. Turning your attention from him, you looked out the window, watching everyone busy themselves outside. You jolted from your thoughts when you felt Carl's fingers graze over your side, where your scar laid.

"What are you doing?" You looked at him, tensing up as you realized he was tracing over the intent. He was there when you'd been cleaned up, however he'd never really gotten a good look at it, and you'd never told him the story behind it. "That's gnarly." He whispered, eyes tracing the missing flesh, "What happened?"

"Gnarly?" You whispered looking at it, you knew he didn't mean it negatively but perhaps the wording wasn't great. He looked up at you, guilt rendering his face as soon as he hear that from you. He knew what it felt like to hate a piece of yourself, his missing eye causing him the same experience.

He propped himself up on his elbow, looking up at you. "I didn't mean it like that, honey." He continued gently, watching your face as you stared at the intent. He'd recalled how you had proceeded when he was down about his eye.

He'd been in the bathroom for a long time that night, and you'd come in to check on him. He'd been staring at his eye, and you'd told him how wonderful he was, and the scar was just another story. Most importantly, he remembered how you littered the area with gentle kisses.

"You mind?" he asked, looking at you. As upset as the scar made you, you didn't want to blame Carl for the shame you felt towards it. With no real idea to what he was asking you about, you simply nodded and allowed him to do whatever was on his mind. You trusted him deeply, and you wanted to be done with the scar talk.

He took this nod of agreement, and pulled himself onto his side, pulling himself closer to you just slightly. His eyes lingered on your scar for a moment, flashing through his head as he remembered how scared he was when you found him just outside of the group. There was blood everywhere, you were scared, and so was he.

He was so worried at the time that the scar even scared him, sometimes he wondered if you felt the same about his eye. However, he knew it was a sign of survival. Strength in a world where it was hard to have any strength at all. He just wanted you to feel strong. Feel the courage you had that inspired him. But he lacked the words to tell you.

He pressed soft kisses to your side, butterflies ached in your stomach as he did so. Carl paused looking up at you for a moment, "I meant badass. For lack of better words." He teased, a small grin lingering on his face before he pressed one more kiss to your side. "Badass? You're a lot sweet-er when you're not talking, Grimes." You teased, giving him a genuine smile.

He sat up, giving you a goofy grin, "That's not very nice, Y/n." You smiled at wrapping your arms over his shoulders, pressing your head against his. "Thank you." You hummed to him, closing your eyes. He pressed his lips against yours for a moment, before falling back on the bed, taking you with him.

"Always."

#carl grimes #carl #carl twd #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #carl x reader #carl grimes x reader #carl x you #carl grimes x you #the walking dead angst #the walking dead fluff #twd #syds page #asks #fluff #x reader #angst

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forgetminot · 1 year

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Stay With Me.

♡ Rick Grimes x gn reader ♡

[ Warnings : Reader gets bit, blood, gore, violence, amputation, angst, angst, angst, profanities, tiny tiny bit of fluff if you squint, late prison era before the governor attack ]

Author's Note : My first Rick fic of many because I'm an older man simp. Should i write part two, with some fluff? O.o

Prompt/Story Idea : "I think I'd look cute as a walker, don't you?"

You had been on many supply runs since the world fell apart, planning ahead; making sure you had a simple way in and out of whatever building you were looting. You started off alone, that's how you preferred it, it was easier that way- at least that's what you thought. Days turned into weeks and then into months and running alone just wasn't an option anymore. The dead roamed the street more than ever and you needed safety in numbers; so you found yourself a group, a family.

"If you stick to the back entrance, you should get in and out quick and easy." You nod. Taking the crumpled map from Glenn's hand, folding it up and placing it in your ragged bag. "Rick should be here any minute."

"Rick?" You question. "I thought it was Daryl and I doing this one."

"Rick thought it was best that he went out on a hunt, to get the food supply up more."

"I thought it was the better option." You turn in the direction of Rick's voice, as he jogs down the hill towards you and Glenn.

"Well, okay then." Smiling, you open the passenger side door and glance over your shoulder at Rick. "You can drive." You wink throwing the car keys at Rick and he catches them with ease. Raising your eyebrow in approval you hop into the car, throwing your bag on the back seat; Rick does the same.

It's about an hour drive to the location. Rick and you spend the time talking back and forth about how you would pull this run off quick but efficiently. You reach and grab your bag from the back seat, pulling out the map Glenn gave you. Your eyes scan across the old paper, red pen scattered across it from where Glenn had marked. "It's just up here." You point to the road on your left and Rick turns in, pulling up and switching off the engine.

"Ready?" Rick asks, you nod and open the car door, stepping out onto the gravel floor. You throw your bag over your shoulders walking towards the run down pharmacy with Rick following you close behind. "I take it your leading the way on this one?" You stop, turning to face Rick.

"If that's okay with you?"

"Course it is." You take your machete out from its holster, gripping the handle tightly in your hand. Tapping on the window, you and Rick wait patiently. "Nothing?" He asks.

"Nothing." You state. Opening the door you enter the pharmacy, it's a complete mess; shelves knocked over, old medical supplies and glass shattered all over the floor. "Watch your step." You whisper. Rick nods, heading over to one of the fallen shelves and he lifts it slowly; standing it back up on its base. "Anything?" You ask as you scavenge what you can from the shelves and drawers.

"Some filthy bandages. 'will need a good clean." He shoves them into his bag and continues to search the aisle.

"Keep an eye out for condoms!" You shout. Rick stands up, staring at you from over the shelves; a confused look on his face. "Glenn wanted some." You state, Rick rolls his eyes as you laugh and he returns to the box he was looking through. you head towards a separate door with the word 'office' signed above it. Placing your hand on the door handle you turn it- but it doesn't budge. ''Must be blocked'' you whisper to yourself. Turning to your left you position yourself at the door and ram your right shoulder against it, once, twice and then a third time. "Third time's the charm." You smile to yourself as the door flies open from the force.

"Fuck!" You shout, placing your arms against the body in front of you, you force the walker back and sink your machete into its skull, blood splashing against the walls. It falls to the ground with a thud.

"Y/n!" Rick rushes into the room, his knife raised. "Shit! Are you okay?" He asks, glancing down at the now dead walker.

"I- I think so." You're out of breath, chest heaving up and down with every word you say. You take a seat in the office chair and place your machete down on the desk. " I didn't even hear it." You state, shock covering your face. You freeze. Staring down at your forearm; it's drenched in blood, both from you and the walker. "No! No, Fuck! No!" Sunk into your arm is a bite mark, fresh and dripping with blood; you turn pale just from looking at the bite. Rick takes slow steps towards you, lifting your arm up to his height and gently rubbing the blood away.

"We need to amputate it." He's calm as he speaks, but you can see the panic written on his face.

"What?" You gasp, standing up and stepping back from Rick. "Yeah, no." You laugh quietly to yourself. "I think I'd look cute as a walker, don't you?" So many thoughts are running through your head. Maybe you would prefer to be a walker? Is it worth the amputation if you bleed out anyway? What if it doesn't work? What if we're too late? Rick's eyes are pleading with you, staring you down and you don't know what to do. You are an hour away from the prison, there's no way you'd make it back in time. It needs to be done now, while there's still time. "Okay." You say, your voice barely a whisper. "Do it." You sit back down, placing your arm firmly on the office table. Rick quickly removes his belt and ties it around your arm. Taking your machete, he raises it above him and looks you straight in the eyes.

"Ready? On three." You take a deep breath looking away and staring at the bloody wall. "One-" He brings the machete down with force and you scream out as it slashes your skin, tears streaming down your cheeks as he continues to cut through your bone, blood and flesh covering the table. "Stay with me." He whispers as he takes one last swing with the machete, cutting your arm completely from your body. You can't move, you can't talk. You sit frozen in fear, staring down at the bloody stump where your arm once was. Shaking you look up at Rick as he rips the bottom of his shirt and wraps it around your amputation. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to stop the room from spinning. Your head feels extremely light as you shake it back and forth. "Stay with me." Rick repeats as he scoops you up in his arms, rushing through the pharmacy and out to the car. He pulls the back door open and lays you down on the back seat, before rushing to the drivers seat and turning on the engine. "Keep those eyes open!" You barely hear anything he's saying, your whole world feels like it's closing in on you. "Please, don't die on me" Rick says to himself, fingers tapping against the stearing wheel. Those are the last words you hear as you fade into the darkness.

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ellieslver · 2 years

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Don't Leave Me - Carl Grimes

summary: carl loses the love of his life.

genre: angst ofc

word count: 456

—

"don't leave me, y/n.." carl had whispered while slowly caressing your cheek, wiping away the tears that had fallen from your eyes. you smiled up at him sadly.

"'m so sorry carl.." you whispered to him, making him let out a sob before leaning his head on your chest. your hands went up to his hair and slowly played with it.

"i want you to do it, please carl.. don't let me hurt anyone, okay?" you whispered into his ear as more tears filled your eyes. you squeezed your eyes shut, making the tears run down your cheek and neck.

"i-i can't. you can't leave me, y/n..!" he cried when he pulled back. he looked down at you and frowned. "you can't leave me too please please y/n.."

you smiled softly up at him and wiped his tears away. your hand went to the back of his neck, pulling him down to kiss him gently. he let out a small cry as he kissed you back. when yall pulled away, you rested your forehead against his.

"i love you, carl."

"i love you, y/n."

you laid back down on the ground and smiled at him. "thanks for making my life so much better." you said before your eyes closed and your heartbeat started stopping.

"no, no.." he cried, holding your face in his hands as tears fell down onto your face. he leaned down and kissed your forehead and he kept crying.

a couple minutes later, your eyes started to open and you started breathing again. he sat up and looked down at your now cloudy e/c eyes.

your hand reached up to his face, trying to grab him. he sobbed as he brought his knife to the side of your head. "i'm so sorry.." he whispered as he plunged the knife into the side of your head, actually killing you this time. your hand fell back down to the ground and your eyes closed.

he pulls the knife out and throws it across the room before picking you up and standing up, carrying you bridal style. he walked out of his room and down the stairs before opening the door to go outside.

he walked out the house and sat of the porch while holding you close to him. rick and the others saw carl and ran over. he stood in front of carl and carl looked up at him with tears streaming down his face.

"she's gone, dad.." he sobbed as he started rocking with your body. his cries kept getting louder as he held you.

he's lost so many people in his life.

but losing the love of his life was the worst of all of them.

—

this sucks but idc

reblogs are appreciated!!!

#the walking dead #the walking dead angst #hurtful #carl grimes #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x you #no comfort #lol #I cant write fluff

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novacqnes · 2 years

Text

insomnia // rosita espinosa

summary: grappling with heartbreak and her sexuality Rosita finds solace in you and a little more.

warning: very brief smut (fingering, masturbation)

word count: 2.2k

pairing: rosita espinosa x fem reader

a/n: noticed a lack of rosita fics on here, if you guys enjoyed please don’t forget to reblog I really appreciate it :)

Loneliness was an unmistakable feeling. It was the depravity and isolation that came with being alone that made living unbearable. It was a feeling that Rosita knew all too well but she was good at masking it. After all, she had Abraham, someone who she’d known since the start of the end and he wouldn’t dare leave her- until he eventually did. But there were more men after Abraham, all of whom meant nothing to her, none of them could replace the growing loneliness she wrestled with day after day.

From the moment Rosita emerged from the tank by Abraham’s side you were in awe. Not just by her physical appearance but the way she cared for people, especially those she loved. She was fierce but in an a passionate way- being loved by Rosita was unlike anything else, or so you imagined. There were many things stopping you from professing your long held crush on her; the first began with the 6ft blue-eyed ginger with a loaded machine gun. The second was that Rosita was presumably straight. She never talked about girls or even hinted at a possible attraction to them which made you doubt the possibility that she’d ever reciprocate your feelings.

So maybe it was loneliness, or maybe it was curiosity that led Rosita to your doorstep for the first time 6 weeks ago. That night Rosita wandered around Alexandria aimlessly until she came across your dimly lit house on the corner of the street. She didn’t have a particular goal in mind but before she knew it she was at your front step, ringing the doorbell.

When you appeared Rosita was shocked by the absence of fatigue and dark circles under your eyes. You looked put together, almost as if you weren’t sleeping in the first place. It made her feel embarrassed to be standing in front of you with nothing but a tank top and shorts.

“Hey, you alright?” You asked.

Rosita looked more flushed than usual. And any other day you would’ve blamed it on the scorching Virginia heat. It was something about the way she stood in front of you, out of breath, balled fists and messy hair. You knew there had to be something more.

“Yeah, I saw the light from outside. Can I come in?”

You opened the door a bit further to let her in when you finally saw it. The dim light over the fireplace illuminated the room to where you were able to finally get a clear view of Rosita. You hadn’t realized it before but her eyes were red as if she’d been crying for hours.

“Sorry for the mess, I can clean it up if you want to sit down.”

Rosita had only visited your house a handful of times yet this was the first time she truly got a good look. There were candles lit all around your living room, the couch was pulled out and numerous books, pencils, cigarettes, poems and drawings spread all across the mattress.

“No- don’t it’s fine, I don’t mind.” She remarked, a drawing on the corner of the bed catching her eye.

She sauntered over to it picking it up, it was a drawing of Michonne. Around her dozens upon dozens of flowers drawn meticulously to outline her locs. Around her locs were splashes of color that only enhanced the picture.

She stood in disbelief, “You did this?”

Rosita was astonished, she’d never seen anything like it. She couldn’t fathom that something so beautiful could come to life in the world they lived. A world of pain, loneliness and fear.

“Yeah, I tried to get the eyes right but they look off-“ You rambled.

“Y/n, this is beautiful. Is that what you do all night?”

“Pretty much, I can never really fall asleep so I find something to do, to keep myself busy.”

“Is there more? Can I look?” She urged, her eyes falling on more.

“Knock yourself out.” You chuckled, giddy excitement ran through your body as you watched Rosita face light up at the sight of your creations.

She sat on the mattress reading through the poems- your poems. She found herself smiling at your handwriting, the way you wrote with passion and pursuit. Each and every drawing she came across made her heart swell, especially the ones of the group. Something about the way you drew people felt majestic. The way people wanted to be seen as something more than themselves, as something greater, you displayed through each stroke.

Rosita kept looking until she came across one at the edge of the bed, you began to panic recognizing the figure through the page. Before you could rush over and grab it she was already on it, flipping it over to see herself.

At first she was speechless, it felt as if she was staring at her own reflection. In the pit of your stomach several knots formed as you stood by anxiously hoping she wasn’t creeped out or hated your drawing. You picked your cuticles hoping to distract yourself from the unnerving silence.

At last a painful smile broke through Rosita's face as she closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face.

She hated it.

You stuttered, “I’m sorry Rosita, I tried my best but I could redo it if you’d like—“

“No, no- Y/n this is perfect, you’re perfect. I love it.” She reassured.

“Then what’s wrong?” You asked, joining her on the side of the bed.

“Abraham. He left me.”

Rosita filled you in on how it happened. When she came into the room they shared together and he was packing. He didn’t offer her much of an explanation besides the fact that he now knew that she wasn’t the only woman in the world anymore. But you both knew it meant he’d fallen for someone else and kicked Rosita as well as all of the years they’d spent together to the curb.

“I’m not upset that he’s found someone better for himself, you know? It hurts like hell but it’s how he did it. Like I was nothing.”

Anger bubbled inside of you as you found it hard to contain your thoughts. You’d always created a picture of what you imagined Rosita and Abraham's relationship to be. You thought of them as some sort of unbreakable force. They weren’t joined at the hip like Maggie and Glenn but their loyalty to each other spoke for itself. Rosita would do anything for him and until now you assumed it was the same back.

“He’s an asshole.”

“Y/n—“

“Listen I know you love him and all but he’s still a dick, and I’m entitled to believe that.” You said curtly.

She chucked, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. She held up the picture of herself.

“The way you drew me, I want someone to see me like that. Strong, beautiful, unbeatable.” She gushed, placing a hand on your clothed thigh.

Someone. Although she didn’t say your name directly, it felt like she was talking about you. Like she was calling out to you and once again you felt the heat rush to your cheeks but this time you said something.

“You are.”

Rosita blushed, nervously shaking her head as she sensed the atmosphere shift. The vanilla scent from the candles made her feel like she was walking on air. How she so deeply wanted to lean in and kiss you right there yet she held back. She pulled her hand in, placing it back in her lap.

She grinned, “I really needed this Y/n, thanks for being an insomniac.”

“Anytime.” You mumbled, heart sinking as you felt like you’d driven her away.

She headed for the door clutching the picture in her arms shooting you one last bittersweet smile. Once the door closed you flung yourself onto the bed. You screwed up you thought, you let your feelings get in the way and it chased Rosita away. Now you really weren’t going to sleep.

Little did you know Rosita hadn’t let the tension deter her from seeing you. Every day since that night she found her way back to your house. Sometimes it was to talk, admire your work, but truly it was because she liked being around you. That night Rosita practically begged you to let her model for you. She went around all of Alexandria collecting acrylic paints and a canvas for you to work on. When she finally arrived she was bursting at the seams with excitement waltzing through the door. She dumped the tools on the pull out bed.

“You’re way too excited for this.” You giggled, setting up your workstation.

“Never been more ready for anything in my life- you know I had to play a game of chess with Eugene to get those fancy paints for you?”

“Chess?”

“Yes, chess! It lasted a whole 3 hours. You should be thanking me.” She exclaimed.

You smirked, “I’ll make sure to thank you after, have a seat.”

Rosita took a seat on the bed as you settled on the stool behind the canvas. You meticulously studied her face and you noticed it had a new joy to it. Over the last few weeks you could feel Rosita’s confidence slowly beginning to build back up. There were a few setbacks but she was repairing her heart with your help, every step of the way.

You guys had grown extremely close as Rosita began to spend the night, but you guys never slept in the same bed. Since the first night you were careful not to cross any lines with Rosita, your relationship was strictly platonic and it was going to stay that way.

With each stroke you replicated the beautiful woman seated in front of you. You covered each and every inch of her body accentuating the slightest detail.

“Almost done there?” Rosita called out, growing a bit restless.

“Almost….” You answered back, adding the finishing details to the portrait.

Once you were finally satisfied you turned the canvas around allowing Rosita to see. A heartfelt smile spread across her flushed face as she admired the art.

“That’s you,” You beamed, taking a seat right next to her.

“Y/n…. I don’t even know what to say, it's beautiful.” She cooed, turning to look at you.

For a second you felt time stop as your eyes connected. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you caught a whiff of her maple scent. Instead of pulling away Rosita placed a gentle hand on the side of your face moving in to kiss you. Her lips were so soft, you couldn’t think straight as her hands ran up and down your body pressing herself further against you.

“Wait no-no.” You shook your head going to remove her hands from you.

“What’s wrong?”

“You don’t really want this.” You croaked.

“What?”

“You’re heartbroken because of Abraham so this is your way to cope, you don’t really like me.

She began, “Y/n-“

“No-“

“Y/n, listen to me.” She cupped your face so you could see she was truly serious.

“I like you and I want to be with you. This isn’t some phase or coping mechanism. I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you. You make me want to be better and I hope I can be that person for you. Please let me.” She pleaded.

You knew she was telling the truth, you could see it in her eyes she was being genuine. You’d gone down this road way too many times to know that you just needed to trust her, you felt it deep down that you could.

“Okay,” You nodded, moving your hands, allowing Rosita to continue.

Something about the way she kissed you, the passion behind it made you fall all in. The kiss grew more fierce as she slipped her tongue into your mouth causing you to moan. Her hand traveled to the band of your sweatpants before looking at you for permission.

“I’m not experienced, when it comes to girls. But I want to try…can I touch you?” She muttered in between kisses.

“Yes, please.”

You placed your hand over hers slipping it under your pants and underwear, guiding her in the right direction. The pad of her thumb gently connected with your clit as it sent a shiver through your pussy. She began to rub tauntingly slow circles kissing up and down your neck.

“Just like that.” You moaned, as the pleasure built inside of you. Seeing how this affected you Rosita applied more pressure to your clit, slipping one finger inside of you.

“You’re doing so well Rosie.” You cried, as her pace sped up, she leaned down to sloppily kiss you, your tongues swirling over one another.

Rosita angled her finger meeting your g spot as you gasped. She kept going until you were a moaning mess in front of her on the verge of release. When you were done she placed her head into the crevice of your neck, admiring her work. You looked down at her content and out of breath.

“I could do that for you too you know, take care of you.” You suggested, slipping a hand over her thigh.

“I know but you always do, I wanted to be the one this time. I promise to be.”

That night you laid in the same bed comfortably tangled in each other’s arms, drifting off into a long slumber for the first time in years. Although your insomnia wasn’t cured, having Rosita next to you every night made it a little easier.

#rosita espinosa #rosita the walking dead #rosita twd #twd #the walking dead #rosita espinosa smut #rosita espinosa angst #rosita espinosa fanfic #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead smut #the walking dead angst #rosita espinosa x fem reader

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moonxnite · 1 year

Text

How twd hunts would be if I were there:

Credits: Me

Music: Crushcrushcrush by Coco and Clair Clair

Photo background: LittleBeaDesigns & Picsart

Scenepack: MAD MAN on yt

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xoxo-sarah · 3 months

Text

Done This Before

↝pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader

↝warning: angst, Leah, inaccurate/ not canon events for Daryl meeting Dog and Leah, death (reader), mention of death, set season 9 when Daryl leaves to look for Rick's body or whatever, not proofread

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl Dixon, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 1.29.24

In the aftermath of yet another loss, Daryl Dixon found himself haunted by the echoes of his past. The weight of grief and guilt bore down on him with unyielding force. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was cursed, that anyone who dared to get close to him would meet a tragic end.

As he stood alone in the silence of the night, memories of those he had lost flooded his mind. The pain of each departure cut deeper, leaving wounds that seemed to never fully heal. His rugged exterior, once a shield against the world, now felt like a prison, trapping him in a cycle of despair.

Your body laid limp in his arms, the feeling all too familiar to Daryl.

"You're not doin' it right." Daryl hissed, watching your fingers fiddle with the bowstring. He didn't mean to come off as irritated. Today was one of those days where he was woke up frustrated with himself and decided to make it everyone's problem. He had so much built up frustration and no where to let it out. Searching for Rick's body was solemnly for closure. For the both of you. You weren't supposed to join him on one random day. But you did. And you stayed, not wanting him to be alone with his thoughts. It was a good call, and as much as Daryl hated to admit it, he was thankful. That didn't stop him from lashing out sometimes. You didn't seem to take it to heart.

There were times where he wasn't mean. Those were the moments where you got to really know each other, find some similarities, make a few jokes. As time passed, you two did more joking and less arguing.

"The string is old, Daryl." You analyzed the frayed string.

Daryl yanked it out of your hands, grumbling.

"'s fine." He knew the bow was old and in need of a new string, he didn't need you telling him jack shit.

You two sat in silence as Daryl examined the bow now. He really should get that fixed, he thought.

Everything happened to fast. One second, you were kicking leaves around, stopping at the feeling of being watched. The next, you heard a rustling and felt a burning sensation on your right side.

The gunshot rang through the woods, scaring any animal in the opposite direction.

You were both caught off guard. It wasn't until your knees have out that Daryl moved, falling beside you. His eyebrows were nearly touching from his face being scrunched in confusion. He violently looked around, catching a head of long, light brown hair as the person ran away as fast as she could.

Unknowingly, It was Leah, someone who Daryl would shortly grow close to, that accidentally pulled the trigger. She had snuck up on you two, watching your interactions, contemplating if you were dangerous or not. She had her gun cocked and ready, waiting. A sudden squirrel running across her foot had her finger squeezing the trigger. Leah panicked and fled the scene out of fear and guilt.

Daryl brought you into his arms, running as fast as he could in the environment. He mindlessly ran in the direction of the closes community he knew of. But it was pointless. It would take far too long to get to any place that could possibly help.

He staggered through branches and bushes, yelling out in desperation, or anyone. It was an all too familiar feeling.

He had done this before.

He stopped at a river, watching the water flow through rocks. You gargled blood, looking up at him, listening to the water and the silence of the woods.

He gently sat you down, kneeling beside you.

You two just looked at each other as the life drained out of your eyes.

Daryl had silently apologized over and over again, feeling his eyes start to sting when you were gone. Officially gone.

Daryl's heart ached as he replayed the moment when he had to watch yet another loved one slip away, much like Beth had. The anguish was a relentless storm, threatening to consume him whole. He couldn't help but wonder if he was the common thread in these tragedies, the dark cloud that hovered over those who dared to care for him.

The flickering flames of the campfire cast dancing shadows across his face, mirroring the turmoil within. His eyes, usually steely and resolute, now betrayed the turmoil of his soul. Each passing day seemed to deepen the chasm of his despair, leaving him adrift in a sea of unanswered questions.

In the depths of his anguish, Daryl struggled to find solace. The very act of opening his heart to another felt like tempting fate, a reckless gamble with the lives of those around him. The burden of his perceived curse weighed heavily on his shoulders, threatening to crush him under its unforgiving weight.

As the night wore on, Daryl's thoughts became a tempest of self-doubt and pain. He was a lone wolf, forever condemned to wander the desolate landscape of his own making. The echoes of his losses reverberated in the stillness, a haunting reminder of the price of his affections.

In the quiet embrace of the night, Daryl Dixon grappled with the ghosts of his past, each one a painful testament to the fragility of life. The stars above bore witness to his silent anguish, a solitary figure adrift in a world that seemed determined to tear apart the very fabric of his being.

A twig broke behind Daryl, causing him to swing around, crossbow-which has a new bowstring- in hand, ready to kill. The puppy barked, looking up at Daryl, head slightly tilted.

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

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babyyblues · 1 year

Text

Rescuer

Request: "Can you please do 21. "Get behind me. Now.? The reader, M/F and Daryl go on a run and they run into the reader's abusive ex. Daryl says #21 as he pushes them behind him. You can figure out how it ends. "

prompt 21: "Get behind me. Now"

Era: Prison (Mid-season 3) no spoilers

Summary: Daryl Dixion finds you all alone, and after learning about your past that reminds him of his childhood, he vows to protect you. So what happens when you run into the one who once made your life a living hell?

Word Count: 3,120

warnings: dv mentions (Slight description of violence), child abuse, twd violence and gore

A/n: OMG ITS HERE!!! I'm really excited to share this as it's my first piece for Daryl, and I hope everyone reading enjoys it. Please feel free to leave feedback and let me know if there's anything I can change to improve my writing!

The day Daryl Dixon first laid his eyes on you, he was sure he was about to watch yet another person get eaten by the undead. You were surrounded, breathing heavily as you did your best to fight off the walkers around you. Exhaustion hit you and you weren’t sure how long you could keep this up. Your eyes widened as a walker lunged at you, ready to feast on the flesh of your dirty shoulder but you breathed a sigh of relief when a bolt shot right through its brain. You let out a grunt as you turned around, shoving your dull knife repeatedly into the head of the last of the small herd, falling to the ground as even more of the smelly walker blood splattered all over your face. You stared down at the massacre, doing your best to catch your breath before looking up at the man who helped save you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice horse from the lack of use.

“You alone?” he asked, stepping toward you making you flinch and take a step back.

“Um y-yeah,” you studdered, nerves raking through your body as your eyes shifted from the crossbow in his arms to his piercing blue eyes. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he watched your body begin to shake, his presence seemingly making you more nervous than any of the undead did. He watched as your knuckles turned white, hands trembling around the grip of your knife. Stopping in his tracks, he strapped the bow securely behind his back, placing his hands in your vision.

“ ‘M not gonna hurt ya,” he confirmed, “jus’ makin’ sure ‘m safe.” You nodded slowly in understanding, hesitating before releasing the knife.

“We have a camp bout half a mile back, jus’ need to ask you three questions ‘fore you can come.” You nodded again, waiting in silence.

“How many walkers you killed?”

“Lost count,” you murmured.

“How many people have you killed?”

“None,” you shook your head along with your answer, looking back up at the man. He nodded, looking around him before beckoning you to follow him back. After walking for what seemed like forever, your eyes landed on a prison and as ironic as it was you felt immediate relief for the walls and safety that you hoped you come from this building.

Walking into the courtyard, you felt eyes on you causing you to want to shrink into your self and if the man noticed, he didn’t say anything. You walked quickly trying your best to keep up with his long strides, following him as he walked into the building.

“Rick!” he called out, waiting for the man to come around the corner. Your eyes landed on another man, this one a bit taller and leaner, his hair sticking to his neck.

“Found ‘er alone in the woods,” he grumbled, walking away leaving you to cower in front of the man you assumed to be Rick.

“Rick Grimes,” he said holding his hand out for you to shake. You flinched at the sudden action, stumbling backward, your hand flying to grab the knife that sat in your waist, ready to defend yourself if need be.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he held his hands up in surrender, “what’s your name?”

“Y/n, Y/n Y/l/n,” you answered quietly taking a deep yet shaky breath before releasing the weapon.

“Daryl said you were out there alone?” he asked, earning a nod in return.

“This whole time?” You shook your head in response, swallowing hard to find your voice again.

“Got separated from my group not too long ago,” you told him, averting your gaze to the cold floor beneath you. Rick nodded.

“Were you trying to find them?” You shook your head lightly.

“I uh- I was just trying to stay alive.” Rick studied you for a second, the room falling into silence so loud your ears began to ring.

“Well I assume you’ll want a shower and your clothes to be cleaned, I’ll find you something to wear in the meantime and then we can get you something to eat, we have plenty. I’ll have Daryl check in on you and help you get settled in if you want to stay,” he said before leading you through the cell block to the shower area.

“I’ll send someone with the clothes, gotta pump this to get the water going,” he demonstrated the process for you before leaving you alone. You took a minute to look at the space around you before shutting your eyes and taking a long deep breath.

“ ‘Scuse me,” you heard a young girl say gently. Regardless of how low her tone was, you practically jumped out of your skin at the noise.

“Sorry, I’m Beth, I just brought those clothes Rick told you about,” she rambled earning silence in return, “I haven’t been able to find a jacket for ya yet, and the shirt might be big but I’m gonna go look for a jacket for you.”

As she hurried off, you grabbed the clothing before turning back toward the shower, pulling the makeshift curtain closed, you felt the familiar sting of the tears that sat behind your eyes as you carefully stripped out of your clothing, stepping underneath the stream of lukewarm water. A hiss escaped your lips as you made your best attempt to scrub clean not only the dirt and grime that seemed to be embedded in your pores but the marks that seemed to never go away. Tears were now steadily mixing with the water, and you turned around to start the nasty and undoubtedly tiring work on your hair that had been matted to your head.

After finishing, you slipped on the clothes Rick had promised, ironically folding the dirty clothes into a neat pile before exiting the shower areas. Daryl was sitting at the table, looking up when he heard footsteps emerge.

“Took ya long enough-” his words died down on his tongue immediately as his eyes trailed across your figure. He took in the sight, a thin tee shirt hanging off your malnourished frame, deep spots of black and blue riddling the entirety of your upper body, the most gruesome being the taunting handprints that stained your throat. You looked back down, unwilling and unable to catch the piercing gaze of the man before you.

Daryl’s breathing immediately caught in his throat, he knew these weren’t normal walker dents and bruises that people are accustomed to these days. How could he not know? He knew what it was like to be beaten on by the one who swore to love you. How you were unable to leave a situation that was literally killing you. And maybe this is why Daryl had such a soft spot for you, and why this stranger, whom he didn’t know the name of, caused a sea of red to flash across his vision. His jaw clenched as he made quick work of unbuttoning the top layer of his button-ups, to hand it to you.

“Here,” he mumbled, reaching his shirt out to you, “might freeze out there.” Looking up at him slowly, you bit the inside of your cheek before grabbing the shirt, covering up your shame.

“Thank you,” you whispered yet again.

“Come on, we’ll get you settled in,” he said nodding up the stairs, intending to put you in the cell directly next to him.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, not enough for all of your bruises to fade or the nightmares to go away, and you honestly weren’t sure how you had worked your way to be as close with the front runners as you were. You had proved your strengths over and over again, going on runs with Daryl and helping out with tasks other than laundry and basic cleaning. You knew how to protect yourself, and as the trust built between you and the ones who surrounded you, you knew how important it was to protect them as well.

You weren’t much of a talker, however, they felt as if they knew enough to trust you with the more important duties such as fench work and watch. You laid your blanket onto the chilled ground of the watch tower, preparing to start your shift. As you sat, you took a deep breath, thankful for the people around you, the security the walls held, and the brief time alone you had. It hadn’t been long before you heard the door open, but you didn’t need to turn your head to see who it was. It was always Daryl, the man who you undoubtedly grew the closest to, and the one who by far knew the most about you. You shifted over slightly, giving him plenty of space to sit beside you on the blanket so you could both watch out over the fields of the prison.

“Just checkin’ in,” he mumbled as he took a seat, careful not to make any sudden movements in your presence.

“I haven’t seen anything, just the walkers on the fence-”

“On you, I mean,” he admitted quietly. Your breath caught in your throat, your teeth immediately making their way to the inside of your cheek.

“ 'M fine,” you answered, earning a grunt in response. He turned toward you, catching your gaze before softening his features. He reached out to your shoulder, his aim for the same button-up he had given you. When you flinched, he retracted his hand quickly.

“Sorry,” he swallowed, “Jus’ tryna’ make sure you’re healin’. Can I?” Your breath was unstable, but you nodded closing your eyes tightly as he reached again for the button-up, this time lowering it just enough to take a look at the bruises that were across your arms.

“Turnin’ yellow, should be gone soon,” he mumbled, taking his time to get closer and observe the ones on your neck, “this one’s gettin’ there, kinda blue.” He replaced the fabric onto your shoulder, returning to his original position.

“My dad used to beat on me, I know what that looks like,” he confided in you, looking at you again, watching the way your eyes glazed over, tears threatening to spill. You sniffled, pulling your knees to your chest.

“It was my boyfriend,” you whispered, the volume of your voice quickly leaving with the strong gust of wind that flew through the air. If Daryl didn’t still have his eyes on you, he might have missed it.

“I was so stupid.” You let your head fall to your knees, the tears falling with it as your body began to tremble.

“Don’t say that, ‘s not your fault.” You shook your head with a harsh swallow trying the calm the sharp pain you began to feel in the back of your throat.

“No, n-no. I should have known better,” you mumbled. Daryl bit his lip and his tongue, fighting the anger that rose up in his body toward the one who did this to you.

“Used to watch my dad beat my mom, guess towards the end of it I just thought it was normal then,” you spoke, your heartbeat picking up, an anxious turn in your stomach.

“So when I met Max, I was young, and he was nice. He was so nice, and he loved me. I swear he did, and then it was small at first. He started getting mad about everything when I went out with my friends or was on the phone with my mom. Fight got so bad he backhanded me-”

“Y/n you don’t have to-” your head snapped to his, your wild eyes making contact with him for the first time you met.

“He was sorry! He was!” you snapped, nodding your head crazily. You stood up, your balance questionable as hot tears ran down your flaming cheeks. Daryl got up too, ensuring that you weren’t going to fall out of the watch tower.

“He said he was sorry,” you told Daryl again before collapsing back onto the ground in a wave of sobs. Without thinking, Daryl immediately dropped with you, pulling you into his grasp as you cried providing you with the comfort he could have only dreamed of for his younger self. You let yourself fall into Daryl’s chest, grasping at his shirt in an attempt to ground yourself.

Daryl sniffled from above you, biting his lip enough to taste a metallic bite on his tongue, willing himself from the tears that threatened to fall.

This was the turning point in your relationship with Daryl. You found it so easy to confide in him, you knew he understood you and he was always willing to listen. It was uncommon to find a moment where you and Daryl were separated in fact, oftentimes spending the night in each other's cells, taking watch together, and going on runs. Months passed, and your feeling for Daryl easily grew as he showed you how a man should really treat you.

It started slow, the faint passing touches, then the longer more lingering ones. The distance that began to close when you sat next to each other, the eye contact you held with each other, talking about meaningless things. The flowers he brought back from hunts, and the eventual switching from bunkbeds to just the one. Forehead kisses turned to cheek kisses, soon turned to sweet kisses that would forever be embedded on your lips and in your memories.

It was yours and Daryl’s turn to go on a supply run, the plan to go out just a bit further in the hopes the area wasn’t completely picked clean. Waiting for Daryl, you leaned against his bike, looking out into the sea of people throughout the courtyard. You heard his name before you saw him, people greeting him while on his way to you. A smile pulled at the corner of your lips as he approached you.

“Morning,” he grumbled, unable to stop his smile in return to yours.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. How’d you sleep?”

“All that snorin’ of yours, I barely shut an eye,” he teased earning a light shove to his shoulder. He chuckled lightly, his hand falling to your hip.

“Didn’t seem to complain when I woke up with you practically on top of me,” you quipped back, standing up fully to meet the smirk on his lips. He scoffed with a roll of his eyes before leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Come on, sunshine,” squeezing your hip before hopping on his bike. You got on behind him, breathing in his scent as your arms wrapped around his torso.

“‘Right let’s go, be careful,” he reminded you. You nodded in response, reaching for your knife. You approached the first building, an old convenient store, knocking on the glass like Daryl had taught you. He glanced at you, before nodding and watching your back as you entered the door. You replaced the knife with your gun, making quick work to clear the building as Daryl followed you from behind. Your footsteps slowed as you heard a rummaging sound, Daryl catching up to you and placing his hand on your shoulder.

“Get behind me. Now,” he mumbled, raising his crossbow before making his way toward the sound. Following him closely, your eyes landed on a familiar form as the man shoved things into the backpack that was in front of him.

“Put ‘yer hands up, and drop all of your weapons,” Daryl growled, his crossbow aimed right at his head.

“Woah, woah, hey now,” the guy spoke, his hands tossing his knife away. The sound of his voice sent immediate chills down your spine, Your breath hitching as he turned to face you.

“Y/n?” he asked, taking a step toward you. You instinctively flinched, your hand gripping tightly on your gun as you took a step back. Daryl stepped towards him, his gaze unfaltering, and his crossbow coming close to his face. Max’s hands raised higher.

“Hey man, take it easy. That’s my girlfriend-”

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t put one of these arrows through your skull,” Daryl confronted him.

“Daryl-”

“Y/n tell him-”

“Oh, she told me plenty. Told me all about how you couldn’t keep your hands off of her. How you’re a disgusting piece of shit.” Max ignored Daryl, looking your way before snickering.

“What is this? You got yourself some kind of bodyguard? How pathetic. You lost me and like the whore you are you go and find yourself this redneck to take care of you-” he was cut off by Daryl’s crossbow dropping to the ground and his shirt being grabbed as he was forced against the wall with a thud. Daryl didn’t hesitate before, landing hard blows to his face, Max using all his strength to push Daryl away and tackle him to the ground to retaliate.

You were frozen in fear, swallowing the tears that threatened to fall. Your hand shook around your gun as you watched Daryl regain control.

“Daryl stop!” you yelled, your voice wavering. He pinned Max down, watching a bloody smile look back up at him.

“Fightin’ over her, and for what? She’s nothing but a waste of space and energy- nothin’ without a man to tell her what to do and when to do it-” Daryl saw nothing but red but before moving he heard a gunshot ring out, Max falling limp in his grip as blood poured from his head. Daryl looked back at your trembling form, the gun in your hands still pointed at Max. Your eyes were glazed over as you watched Max’s life fade away.

Daryl made his way toward you, grabbing the gun from your hand and letting it drop to the ground before pulling you into his arms. You tucked your head into his neck, the sobs releasing from your mouth as Daryl’s hand gripped your body tightly.

“Y/n, hey, look at me,” he whispered. You shook your head, his shirt tight in your grip.

“Come on sunshine, show me those pretty eyes,” he spoke lowly, separating himself from you enough to lead your chin up to look at him.

“You did what you had to do.”

“But I-“

“No buts, you did what needed to be done. ‘M proud of you,” he said, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. You sniffled with a forced nod briefly looking over again at Max’s body before looking back at Daryl who had his hand open for yours. Picking up your weapons and stuff you deemed necessary, you made your way back to the prison, back to your home, with the person who mattered most.

#daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixion x reader #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead fluff #the walking dead fic #the walking dead angst #the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon fic

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skyebounded · 2 years

Text

The Walking Dead Masterlist

-RICK GRIMES-

one shots

-DARYL DIXION-

one shots

.My Sweetest Angel.

.premise: It’s been three weeks, two days and fourteen hours since you’ve been with Daryl, but who is really counting?

-CARL GRIMES-

one shots

.main masterlist.

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captain-tch · 7 months

Text

Friday the 13th (Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader)

After surviving the events of Terminus, the group stumble upon an abandoned camp site when searching for shelter. Their dream turns into a nightmare when they realise the reason why Camp Crystal Lake was truly abandoned. TW for the series: excessive gore, excessive violence, character deaths

part 1: welcome to camp crystal lake

A dull grey cloud stalked the group closely. Morale was low, despite having survived the recent traumatic events of Terminus. But even though they survived, they were homeless, bruised and broken, mere wanderers left to fend for themselves in an unforgiving world. They were vulnerable and exposed. The forest only provided so much protection, and after having the prison so brutally ripped from their grasp they desperately searched for somewhere new to sow their seeds.

It was a pure accident that they stumbled across the sign. Everyone had settled into a more open area of the woods, eager to rest tired aching feet. To pass the time, and to provide some entertainment, Daryl had been teaching you how to use his crossbow. He stood behind you, watching closely as you spied your target - an exposed area of wood in the bark, the veins coincidentally in the shape of a target. You held your breath, trying to line the sights as best you could with the centre. Realistically, you only wanted to land within the exposed bark, but you were a perfectionist and wanted it to fly straight into the bullseye.

Daryl leaned close, whispering in your ear. His breath tickled your skin, you had to repress the shudder. "Want to make it interesting?"

You turned your face towards him, your faces an inch apart. You inclined your head, a small smirk dancing on your lips. "What do you have in mind, Dixon?"

"If ya miss, yer picking up my next watch shift with Eugene." You snorted. You knew Daryl didn't necessarily dislike the man, but he wasn't comfortable with the man's intensity, or his ability to piss everyone off with just a few unfiltered words. There was no doubt that he was certainly a character.

With an eyebrow quirked, you smiled. "And what about if I hit it?"

Daryl muttered something so filthy in your ear that you couldn't hide your shock, nearly choking on the spit in your throat. Though you couldn't help but admit his words stirred something within you.

"Well that definitely is more than enough motivation." You winked at him, turning back into position. Daryl muttered a few corrections about your stance, his hands ghosting yours shoulders to help relax them. You inhaled, aiming for the circle of wood. On your exhale, you pressed the trigger. With crossed fingers you watch it fly through the trees, and for one split second you thought it would land it's target.

Until it whizzed straight past the tree and into the never ending space beyond.

You cursed, irritation coursing through you. Daryl huffed a laugh. "Maybe next time."

You flipped him off. You had to admit, you were more disappointed you couldn't smugly claim your prize than anything else.

"Oh don't worry Y/N," Rick appeared in your view, clapping you on the shoulder. "He ain't got nothin' on your right hook."

You smiled proudly, turning smugly in Daryl's direction. He shrugged it off, a small curve to his lips.

He gestured for you to follow him, beginning to traipse off into the woods. "C'mon, you're helping me look for it. I ain't losin' a good arrow because you can't shoot for shit."

Rolling your eyes, you quickly told the others where you were going, jogging to catch up with Daryl. You'd passed the target, and now both of you were searching the area for a sign of the lost arrow. He looked in the dirt and greenery, whilst you kept an eye out above your heads for the slightest glint of metal.

"Like searching for a needle in a haystack." You muttered to yourself, frowning. All of the trees were starting to blend together, and it had easily been ten minutes now. It didn't feel possible the arrow could have gone this far. "Daryl, should we turn back?"

You turned around, finding that the redneck was nowhere to be seen. A shot of fear ran through you. "Daryl?"

It felt as if the name echoed back to you. You retreated to where you had seen him last, spinning around. He couldn't have vanished into thin air. Your thoughts were running a million miles an hour - maybe a walker had taken him by surprise, maybe someone was in these woods and kidnapped him. Dozens of scenarios circled your brain, none of them ending in a fairy tale.

Looking up, you saw a sturdy tree branch within reach. Maybe if you climbed, you'd be able to see further and get an idea as to where he went. You began climbing, the anxious thoughts driving you faster and faster up the tree, taking your mind from the bite of the bark. You reached as high as you risked to climb, sitting on the branch, huffing a breath.

You saw no sign of the redneck.

You scrambled down the tree so quickly you were surprised you didn't fall. As soon as you landed on the ground, you started running, sprinting back in the direction of your group. As you heard the crackle of the fire and slight chatter, you raced even faster, breaking through the trees.

You skidded to a stop, heaving a breath. Rick jumped to his feet, rushing towards you. He placed his hand on your shoulder, bending down to look up into your face. "What happened?"

"Daryl -" You sucked a breath in, trying to keep your composure. "He was there one minute, and then." You shrugged your shoulders, fighting the burning in your eyes. "I tried looking for him but I can't track and all I can think is he's out there alone and it'll be dark soon and I have his poncho -"

"Y/N, calm down." Rick tried to calm you, the words still pouring out your mouth.

"He just disappeared! There's nowhere for him to go, he wouldn't leave -"

"Y/N. We will find him, okay." Rick glanced behind him. "Abraham, you're good at tracking, right? Take Y/N and a few others, see if we can find him, search the woods. He can't have gone far."

"With all due respect with the light -"

Abraham was cut off, Rick interjecting quickly. "We will find him. Today."

You tried not to think about how the first 48 hours were the most vital. Abraham followed his orders, grabbing his weapons. As he was going around to gather more people for the search, a twig snapped behind you. Everyone tensed, looking in the direction of the sound.

Daryl wandered into camp, arrow loosely in his hand. Relief surged through you. You rushed forwards, grabbing him in a tight embrace. He stumbled back a few steps, his free hand going to your back.

"I thought something bad had happened!"

"Nah, I thought I saw somethin' so I went to check it out. Thought it was a squirrel or somethin', was hoping to catch some dinner." He broke out in a tiny smile, cocking his head. "Ya never gonna guess what I found though."

"Camp Crystal Lake..." Glenn mused, staring up at the eroded words decorating the arch. He turned to the rest of you, all gathered near the arch. "We got any counsellors here?"

"I was a camp counsellor for a summer." Maggie shuddered. "Not as glamorous as the movies made it out to be."

Rick looked at Carl, flicking the lip of the cowboy hat. "Maybe you can have your all American camp experience."

Carl rolled his eyes, trying to hide the smile fighting its way onto his lips. It felt like a shared feeling - everyone was biting back their joy, waiting for something to go wrong, for the camp to already be occupied by either walkers or the living. But the air felt lighter, it felt easier to breathe, and that cloud that clung to you all seemed to stray away.

It didn't need to be said aloud, everyone was thinking the same thing. This place could very much be a new home.

"Well, lets see what we're working with." Rick placed his hands on his hips, authority oozing from him. He used the information borard behind him, detailing the layout of the camp. There were eight cabins, communal dining area, communal bathing area and dock.

All eyes moved to Rick as he handed out orders, the group to split up in pairs to search the camp. The only people who hung back were Carol, Judith and Eugene, just in case. There were enough pairs that everyone took a cabin each.

Rick gestured for Daryl to follow him. "Keep an eye on him, don't want him wandering off again."

"I got him." Rick assured you, giving you a small nod. You replicated the gesture, waving them off.

"I ain't a damn dog." Daryl muttered, earning himself the honour of being on the receiving end of a vulgar gesture for the second time that day.

Tara's laugh greeted your ears. She waited behind you, her knife already in hand. "You ready to go?

"Lead the way."

Tara fell into place at your side, the pair of you wandering to the cabin furthest back in the camp site. Unconsciously, your gaze fell to the lake situated by the side of the camp. Rows of kayak's were stacked, the dust visible even from this distance. Despite the dust, there seemed no other indications that this place had been touched by the bloodshed. It was picturesque.

"Did you ever go to camp?" You asked Tara, seeing the way her eyes lit up at the sight of the kayak's.

"Yeah, I did. Me and my sister would race in the kayak's, splashing each other with the paddles. She even pushed me out of it once, just to win." Tara shifted on her feet, gulping in a big breath. You didn't want to pry, knowing the answer already about her sister. "What about you?"

"Hell no, my foster parents didn't see the point. Said it was a massive waste of money, especially for someone who wasn't their biological kid." You shrugged, ignoring Tara's pitying look. "We should go check out our cabin, I'm sure the others are nearly done by now."

Without another word spoken, you trudged to Cabin Six. Your body tensed, pulling out the knife at your waist. It was a modest building, crafted of a dark wood, with a porch that had spindles from the railing missing. There was a singular window in the cabin, pointing towards the lake. You tried to peek inside, cupping your hands and pushing your face towards the glass. All you could make out was vague shapes, the thick layer of dust distorting your vision.

Shaking your head at Tara, she nodded grimly, positioning herself by the door. She rapped her hand loudly three times against the wood, pulling back. Her body, along with yours, was tense, waiting for a sound to echo from within the room. After a minute of silence, Tara threw the door open, knife ready and pummelled into the room. You were hot on her heels, body mirroring her positioning.

The pair of you scoured the room, vaguely taking in the generic details of the cabin - the bed's that looked untouched, the bedside cabinets so filthy any movement near them sent a plume of dust in it's wake, and a single light bulb swinging from the ceiling. A thorough sweep confirmed your suspicions: the room was clear of threats, and anything worth looting. You did spy a journal haphazardly sticking out from under a mattress. Curious, you plucked it from it's hiding place, casually flipping through the pages.

"What you got there?" Tara peeped over your shoulder, drinking in the contents. A lot of the writing was about mundane things - relationships, petty drama, pointless wants and desires. It was nice to have a glimpse into the lives of people before.

It was all fairly normal, until you saw the drawing.

A towering man, a machete in his hand. Even though his face was obscured by a hockey mask, his eyes had a glean about them. It felt silly, it was just some drawing on some paper, yet you felt the hairs on your arms rise. This wasn't the happy musings of a teenager.

"Well, that's not creepy at all." Tara mused. "Come on, we should see what the others found."

Sighing, you placed the journal on a bedside table, trudging back to the camp arch. The rest of the group were milling around, having completed their searches. Loose shoulders could be seen everywhere - no threats were found. Tara detailed the lack of findings to Rick, who seemed satisfied with the answer.

"Rosita and I checked out the mess hall and nurse's station, there was a lot of good shit." Abraham noted. "This place is a fucking gold mine."

Carl piped up. "And there's working showers here."

You couldn't believe your luck.

"Okay, so tonight we all stay in the mess hall. Everyone grab some bedding from the other cabins, haul it over. Once we're inside, we're not leaving - we're still exposed here, I want to blockade the doors. Just in case."

You all agreed. There was no such thing as being too careful, not after the horrors you had all endured. Even then, this was the lucky break you all needed. You needed this place to settle down for a few days, to process the trauma you'd been running from since the prison.

You all dispersed, following Rick's orders. Despite the lingering dread, there was an airiness to everyone.

It was a shame none of you noticed the figure looming in the woods, machete in hand.

next part

the walking dead masterlist

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