#the walking dead x gender neutral reader

[bumblesimagines]

❝  could you just…talk to me?  it doesn’t have to be anything important.  i just like listening to your voice.  it calms me.  ❞

- Daryl

❝  could you just…talk to me?  it doesn’t have to be anything important.  i just like listening to your voice.  it calms me.  ❞

Pronouns: They/Them, Gender Neutral

The storm raged on outside. The wind howled and shrieked, slamming against the rooftop of the small store so hard you feared it'd come off completely. It was supposed to be a quick scavenging trip with Daryl. In and out. Of course, luck had never particularly liked you.

So, there you were. Sitting in the corner of a run-down, boarded up, old as shit pharmacy and trying to keep your nerves in check. You'd never grown out of your fear of thunderstorms. A pretty childish phobia to still have when the dead walked the Earth. But the loud claps of thunder and flashes of lighting still made you bury your face in your arms. Daryl had already gone down the check-list and had taken anything else he deemed useful. He stood by the front windows, peeking out in between the boards.

"Damn," He clicked his tongue. "Bike fell over."

You could only muster a soft hum before another clap of thunder had you pulling your knees further against your chest and whimpering. Daryl turned his head to look at you, brows furrowing at your trembling form. You barely heard the sound of his worn-down boots getting closer until he was right infront of you.

"Hey, you good? What's got you shakin' like that? You bit or somethin'?"

"No." You whispered, voice shaking. God, you were crying infront of Daryl Dixon of all people. A man who barely ever expressed any emotion other than anger, let alone cried. "I just... I don't like thunderstorms."

"You scared? Of a storm?"

"T-The sounds. It makes me anxious." You explained shakily, lifting your head from your arms. Daryl's puzzled expression dropped at the sight of your tear-stained cheeks and he clicked his tongue again, gaze shifting onto the ground. He cleared his throat and moved onto his knees before plopping down beside you and awkwardly wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"I ain't gonna let a little storm hurt ya." Daryl murmured in a genuine attempt at sounding comforting. You hesitantly pressed closer against his side and leaned your head against his chest.

"Could you just… talk to me? It doesn’t have to be anything important. I just like listening to your voice. it calms me." Your words made Daryl tense briefly, warmth creeping up his neck.

"Yeah... Yeah, I can do that."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #x gender neutral reader #x female reader #x fem reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x male reader #the walking dead #the walking dead x you #the walking dead x y/n #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x male reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x gender neutral reader #the walking dead x gender neutral reader

[tobyisher3]

A Tree and Lake

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Pair: Carl Grimes x gender neutral reader

Tw: Probably spelling mistakes, not proof read, implications of death, no walkers mentioned, dreams of a dead loved one, pre-established relationship, Death, grave sight, nickname (my love), and sad with a hint of fluff.

Pronouns: None used

Key:

(Y/n) - Your name

Y/n’s POV

“Come on get out of bed.” Carl told me playfully . “I can’t, not yet.” I said with a smile. “If you don’t I will make pancakes and eat them all by myself.” He exclaimed and began to walk down stairs as I sat up and walked down stairs. “Smells good.” I murmured walking behind him and hugging him. “I know I’m making it.” He said proudly.

“What’s got you being so cocky?” I asked tilting my head as I walked away. “Nothing I just miss you.” He said as I looked down. “Right.” I muttered as he sat down next to me and I laid my head on his lap. He played with my hair and I hummed softly. “It’s almost time for you to go.” He told me and I looked up at him.

“I don’t want to Carl.” I said as he smiled at me and sat me up and kissed my forehead. I’ll be right here when you fall asleep I promise my love.” He said happily, I began to tear up. “Please don’t make me.” I begged him, he held my hands. “I’m sorry (Y/n). Wake up.” He said and I did.

I was all alone in my bed. It was cold. I curled in on myself and cried. I heard soft knocking, my door creaked a second later, followed by a kid. “Yeah Daryl?” I asked and he sat next to me on my bed. “We found a place for him.” He told me and I sat up.

“I’ll be there in second let me get dressed.” I told him and he walked out of my room closing the door behind him. I sighed when I was done changing and saw his hat. I put it on then my shoes, walked out my front door. I saw Rick and Daryl there as they walked me to the spot.

It was by a tree near the lake. I smiled softly as they left me and I sat by the tree. I laid and I took off his hat and setting it on top of the freshly placed dirt.

“Ya know I dream about you every night. I don’t know if it’s actually you or just how I remember you. I remember when I met you here, our first date was here, our first kiss…a lot happened here.” I mumbled to myself.

“I’m glad this is your final resting place my love.” I muttered and placed on the dirt and started to doze off. I love Carl Grimes. I hope you always knew that, my cowboy.

A/n: Hey all idk if this is the second one this month, but I am on my Carl Grimes trend again. I watched the entire show from the time I was 12 until Rick’s “last” episode. I’m 20 now and I still have a thing for Chan Chan (Chandler Riggs). My mom and I have called him Chan Chan since I was 13. I’m glad y’all are still out here keep Carl’s memory alive and somehow know what Carl poppa is. Either way I got a little emotional writing this and I hope you enjoy loves!

#carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x you #Carl grimes x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #one shot #Carl Grimes x gender neutral reader #the walking dead #the walking dead x y/n #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x you #The walking dead x gender neutral reader

[captain-tch]

Say A Prayer (The Walking Dead x PlatonicGN!Reader)

You fulfill a reckless promise you had made to Glenn years ago, at a high cost. TW: descriptions of blood and a lot of gore, heavy angst

When you had saved Glenn and Maggie from Woodbury, the physical and psychological scars detailing their experiences, you made a vow. Glenn was your best friend, Maggie the closest thing you had ever had to a sister. You should have been there. You should have protected them. This had been one of the first real glimpses you had seen of the cruelty that festered amongst survivors.

You wanted it to be the last.

As you sat by Glenn's bunk, him whispering the details of what happened, his voice breaking. You only listened to his story, holding his hands tight within your own. With each hitch of his breath, your thumb brushed his skin. His tale was long and filled with such horrors your blood was boiling, all you wanted to do was sprint towards Woodbury and burn the whole community with the power of your rage.

But the damage had already been done.

"Glenn," you breathed, shaking your head. "This shouldn't have happened, I'm so sorry."

Glenn didn't utter a sound. His silence nearly broke you. You squeezed his hand, forcing him to look up at you. "People are dangerous. I hate it but I don't think this is the last time we'll be dealing with this kind of shit. Next time this happens, I'll buy you time to escape."

Glenn's brows furrowed, he spoke your name to try and stop your flow of speech but now that you had started, you couldn't stop.

"Look, if we're ever in some deep shit with bad people, I'll say a prayer. You get ready to grab Maggie and run, because when I sign the cross on my chest, that's the signal, okay?"

"I don't want you to -"

You silenced him immediately. "Glenn, this group needs you, Maggie needs you, I need you. Just, please, I hope we never have to use this but we need a plan."

"They could hurt you."

You shrugged. "I fought fires for a living. I'm sure I can take on some assholes."

Glenn sighed, wincing slightly. The sight of that wince solidified your resolve - Glenn must have sensed this, shaking his head in defeat. "Fine, but only in emergencies. Like end of the world emergencies."

~

The moment you saw the saviours, you knew it was an end of world emergency. You knew it the moment they forced you out of the van, pushing you to your knees next to Abraham, and spotted the sheer number of soldiers circling you.

You were all royally fucked.

Your heart thundered in your chest. You tried to sneak a glance at Glenn across from you, his full attention on Maggie who looked to be growing paler by the second. This was bad, this was so fucking bad.

You searched your mind for a solution, for a way to escape. Your firefighter training never taught you how to deal with this kind of scenario, or anything remotely close. Sweat prickled on your palms, and you felt like a clock was counting down how many minutes you had left in this world.

You couldn't focus, couldn't hear anything. You barely registered a tall, ominous figure leaving the caravan, a bat slung on his shoulder. His mouth was moving, but all you heard was white noise. All you caught was his name, Negan.

If I can save Glenn and Maggie, I can save two people here... Maybe it will give others the chance to get the upper hand.

The blade you'd hidden in your jacket's inside pocket felt like a weight. When the goons had patted you down, a small decoy knife in the outside pocket to your hidden one had been confiscated. But not your hidden blade.

If you could just get a chance, the perfect opportunity. You could drive the blade deep into the man's chest, slice it across his neck, lodge it into his temple. His goons would surge forward to attack you, taking their attention from the group. Glenn and Maggie would already be moving, and the remainder of the group would scramble to get the upper hand.

They would win. They could take down these men and take Maggie to a doctor, to get to safety. They had defeated the Governor, they had survived the fall of the prison, they had survived Terminus, they could survive this.

They had to.

You saw Negan strolling towards you, tilting his head inquisitively. His bat dragged along the ground, drawing your attention to the barbed wire wrapped delicately around the wood. Impulsively, you gulped. That seemed to appease him. He wanted to see your fear.

Static crackled in your ears as he started to thrust Lucille around the circle, into the faces of your friends. It moved in a sort of dance, and you dreaded to see what the crescendo would bring.

The bare bones of a plan had formed in your head - you had to do this. For Glenn. For Maggie. For the group.

"Forgive me god, for I have sinned." You muttered loud enough for him to hear, forcing your head downwards in the closest thing to a prayer you could muster. You saw Negan's bat lull, frozen, as his attention spun to you.

"Give me mercy and show me-"

"What the fuck you muttering?" Negan stopped short, spinning towards you. He used Lucille to tilt your chin, forcing you to look in his eyes. What he didn't expect to see was stone.

"I was saying a prayer, sir." You looked up at Negan, tossing a glance to Glenn across the circle. His eyes widened slightly. He inclined his head to the left, and you could tell he was begging you to stop what you were doing.

"Don't worry," Negan laughed darkly, almost mocking you. "No god can save you now."

"I wasn't asking for my survival." You looked at him from under your lashes, the fury in your veins radiating from you. Your hands had tightened into fists, only to quell the shaking threatening to consume your body. "I was praying that they would strike you down."

Negan blinked. He unleashed a deep belly laugh, shaking his head. "Wow, this one's got some fire. You want to be careful, sweetheart, you don't want to burn."

You didn't respond, keeping your steely gaze on him. You could feel all the group holding their breath, waiting for Negan to react, to end your life. Negan paused for a beat, as if deliberating it, then flashed you a smile. It reminded you of a wolf, and you were a rabbit.

"Well damn, your bat shit rambling made me lose count. Let's start again." Negan turned his back to you, preparing to start his taunting.

You signed the cross on your chest, not for your salvation. But as your signal. As you completed your movement, you slowly crept your hand into the inside pocket of your jacket, pocketing the switchblade.

Your heart threatened to crash through your ribs - you pushed past it, tightening your grip on the handle. You threw yourself forwards, not having moved more than two footsteps before you were tackled to the ground. You collided harshly with the ground, grunting loudly. Pain spread across your cheek, gravel biting into your skin. Your hands were forced behind your back, a knee pinning you in place. They pried your fingers loose, stealing your only chance of escape out of your hand.

"Now what's this shit?" Negan knelt so he was at your level, tapping your shoulder with the bat. You still had to look up at him, you were certain it was to remind you who was in control. "You trying to be a massive noble pain in my ass?"

"Go!" You screamed, almost begging. No one had moved a single inch, all frozen in place watching the events unfold before them. You could hear the soft cries of Maggie and others.

"Run!" You begged again, desperation oozing out of your voice. You tried to roll out from the person holding you down, only to hiss in pain when their knee pressed down harder.

With a dawning horror, you realised you had signed your own death certificate. You couldn't even get in reach of the man. You let Glenn down, you broke the promise you had made. You couldn't provide a good enough distraction to save them all. Now the fear you had back then was becoming a reality.

"I'll be kind - I haven't explained the house rules, so I can let this slide." He turned to look at every member making up the circle, being sure to look them all in the eyes. "But the next time someone pulls this shit? You'll regret it. I don't know what kind of liars you've encountered, but I'm a man of my word."

At this range you could see the dried blood embedded into the wood of Lucille. Red flashed across your vision. This was the weapon of your group's destruction. You felt powerless, a gut punching defeat rushing over you.

You looked up at the man who held all the strings. If you thought the Governor was bad, or the Termites, you were wrong. You had encountered a new kind of evil. A steely resolve settled within you.

If you were going to die tonight, you were going to die defiant.

You showed him exactly what you thought of him as you spat at his face.

A deep satisfaction as the saliva reached its target.

Negan stilled. He cocked his head at you, wiping the spit from his cheek. He examined the wet, slowly dragging his gaze back to yours. You felt your stomach plummet. Determination could only do so much to quench fear.

"I pardon you, and you have the fucking audacity to disrespect me in front of my men?" Negan brought himself upright, indicating his men drag you up too. You were hauled harshly to your feet.

"I'm not in the mood to dirty up my girl so soon, so how about you get a taste of your own medicine?" One of Negan's men passed something to him, and your heart stopped in your chest.

It was your switchblade.

Negan flipped it open, the blade glistening. Subconsciously, you gulped. "You thought you could take down my empire, with this fucking needle?"

Pleas and cries overtook your senses. They all melded into one twisted harmony. This was your death song.

"Everyone watch - I want you to remember that your actions have some pretty big fucking consequences."

You braced yourself. You expected him to lodge the knife in your brain, swipe it across your neck and spin you around so your blood sprayed on your family. What you didn't expect was for him to jab it deep into your stomach. In a twisted way, it felt almost intimate, his hand on your shoulder, his face so close to yours, a demented smirk marking his lips.

Your mouth parted in surprise.

"See you in hell." You spat.

"We're already there, sweetheart." He pushed the blade in deeper, robbing you of breath. You tried not to focus on the sudden agony radiating from your stomach, or the gushing red.

You heard Glenn cry out, shouting your name. You couldn't look at him, you had failed, you couldn't save him again. Maggie was sobbing, getting sicker by the second. You hadn't even been able to help them get away.

A beat passed, then two. Negan's smirk became more demented as he dragged the blade through your stomach. This time you couldn't help but cry out as you felt yourself almost being split in two.

Screams hit your eardrums. You felt as if you were underwater, everything moving in slow motion.

You couldn't breathe, the agony stripping you of the ability. Blood instantly poured. You scrambled to staunch it, the saviours pulling your hands back. They wanted you to bleed out.

Negan retracted the blade, red up until the hilt.

You fell to your knees. You thudded to the floor.

"Make sure they have a good seat. I don't want them to miss the show."

The pinch of gravel didn't even register as the saviours dragged your limp body back to the line up, a stark streak of red following behind. Abraham watched with eyes wide as the saviours yanked you upright, ignorant to the outright shriek of agony that ripped from you, forcing you onto your knees.

You could feel yourself drooping forwards - until a saviour roughly grabbed the back of your neck, pulling your head up.

Everything after that passed in a blur. You weren't sure if it was the blood loss, the fact that you were certain your internal organs were threatening to slip through the slice deep in your stomach, or the sheer trauma of it all made you numb.

You barely flinched when Abraham's blood speckled your cheek.

You only released the smallest whimper upon seeing Glenn slumping forwards, his eye grotesquely popping out.

You didn't even look as Carl was at the mercy of Rick, an axe ghosting his arm.

You watched numbly, watching it all fall apart until eventually, you felt nothing at all.

the walking dead masterlist

#tw: death #tw: gore #tw: violence #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #twd x reader #twd angst #the walking dead angst #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #twd #twd x you #twd x y/n #the walking dead #the walking dead x gender neutral reader #twd x gender neutral reader #twd x gn!reader #the walking dead x gn!reader #the walking dead x gnreader #twd x gnreader

[allzelemonz]

Necromancer: Milton Mamet X Gender Neutral Reader

Prompt: 12 Days of AU, Magic Pronouns: None Mentioned Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T/Zombies Warnings: Mentions of death and zombies, use of 'biters' instead of 'walkers' Summary: When science fails, magic is needed to learn more about the dead.

Woodbury is a beautiful place compared to the outside world. The grass is bright green and close cropped, bridging a familiar sense of suburbia. There’s enough space for the community and even pets to flourish. However, deep in the basement of an otherwise unoccupied building, lies the lair of a necromancer and his assistant.

The Governor first recruited them to work out logistics and desk work, but it wasn’t long before they revealed their knack for tampering with the dead. Milton Mamet comes from a family of necromancers and has years of experience, but these biters aren’t like anything he’s worked with before. Reanimation is an easy trick but it’s hard to work with walking corpses that weren’t created by magic. And the residents of Woodbury don’t exactly trust someone that tampers with the dead, some even think a necromancer is responsible for the end of the world.

“Please raise your hand if you recognise any of the following statements to be true.” Milton instructs.

The woman lying on the table is a young volunteer who was bitten on the last run. The Governor brought her back especially for this test. You’re busy mixing the potions Milton needs as he asks the question. The red one is to heal her mind and blue is to heal her body. Milton will attempt to make contact with the biter and will attempt to revive her in the end.

“I’ll leave the music on while we wait.” Milton gives her a small smile as he mutters an incantation and returns to the potion desk.

“How is she?” You ask.

“Close.” Milton mumbles as he takes one of the green vials in his hand.

You push the blue potion towards him and let him take over. He’s always wanted to revive a biter like he can a corpse of magic and this might just be the time. As the song goes on, Milton mixes his potions and you keep an eye on the subject. A raspy growl catches both of your attention.

“Please raise your hand if you recognise any of the following statements to be true.” Milton says as he sits next to the biter.

He gets a growl and a chop of teeth in response. The only thing holding her down is the incantation Milton uttered. It only holds her head and shoulders back, she has free range of her arms.

“Your name is Tamera Wilson.” Milton says and waves his hand so an image of her appears in the air.

The biter thrashes, but doesn’t distinctly raise her arm.

“You have two pets, Taco the cat and Boba the dog.”

More thrashing but nothing distinct.

“You play the tuba.”

Same response.

The questions go on like that until Milton is satisfied in knowing that he won’t get any response. He mutters another incantation and the biter goes limp, unmoving and asleep.

“I really thought this one would work.” He sighs.

“We still have the revival to try.”

He smiles at you and nods. You bring the potions to him and he pours them down the biter’s throat. He speaks another incantation, a longer one, to accompany the potions. It takes a few hours, but the woman wakes up in full control of her mind and body. The bite mark on her arm will leave a nasty scar, but she’s alive again.

“We should let her rest before we ask questions.” You suggest after feeling her burning forehead.

“I agree, I just hope she remembers everything.”

You offer him your hand and he takes it. You give him a light squeeze to reassure him. Today was at least a half success.

#the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x gender neutral reader #twd #milton mamet #milton mamet x reader #milton mamet x gender neutral reader #x reader #x gender neutral reader #au #12 days of au #magic au

[ravenraverequests]

crm rick grimes x gn reader smutty headcanons

-typically, he likes to fuck you hard and fast. he likes to hear you whimper and cry out in his ear as he fucks you into your mattress. he always leaves you with a limp that the other soldiers comment on. you tell them you hurt your leg in training while rick smirks to himself.

-some nights, when the sorrow and darkness in his eyes is deeper than usual, he likes to fuck you slow. you wrap your legs around his waist and bury your face in his neck while he thrusts deeply and leisurely into you. he tells you how beautiful you are and how lucky he is to have met you.

-after his training, when he’s frustrated and sweaty and tired, you always get down on your knees for him and let him fuck your mouth. he pulls on your hair and praises you, telling you what a “good little whore” you are for him and how “fucking good” you are. he apologizes for the hair pulling and head pushing after he finishes by going down on you until you’re crying out and begging him to stop with your thighs shaking around his head. he always tells you “one more, baby, I know you’ve got one more in you”.

-he’s the best kisser you’ve ever kissed. the first time you kissed, he had taken your face gently into his hand and kissed you deeply. you grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer, and before you knew it, you were up against a wall with your legs hoisted around his waist, grinding down on him and whining into his mouth.

-while he always tops and is usually the more dominant one in bed, he has his submissive streak. there are times when you run your hands through his hair when he’s between your legs and his eyes flick up to yours, pleading and desperate to be good. you’ll never forget the night where you told him to fuck you harder and when he obeyed, you whispered in his ear, “good boy.” he had cum almost immediately after, letting out a whimper. he apologized profusely for finishing prematurely, but you considered it one of the hottest things he’d ever done.

-he loves any position that you’ll let him put you in, but something about you riding him drives him crazy. he loves to grope your chest and kiss your torso as you move your hips. he loves to praise you when you do it, whispering sweet but dirty things to you. when he can’t take your slow hip swivels anymore, he grabs your hips with his large hands and begins to bounce you in his lap. he’ll pull his feet in to steady himself as he thrusts upwards into you. when you’re done, he likes to keep you in his lap until his cock fully softens. he likes holding you close to his chest and petting your hair.

-he’ll never leave you hanging. he’s a gentleman so he always insists on you cumming first (and more than once). even when he’s pounding into you, about to fall off the edge himself, he’ll hold it off long enough to make you cum first.

-he accidentally wears his dog tags one night. he’s over you, making you moan in pleasure, when you fist your hands in his shirt and demand it come off. he sits back in his haunches to pull his shirt off. he chuckles lowly when his dog tags jump out and goes to take them off, but you tell him to keep it on. you cum hard that night, with his dog tags dangling in your face as he fucks you.

-he loves to overstimulate you. he adores the way you cry and squirm when he keeps licking even after your second orgasm. you love his mouth and he loves putting it to use for you. he prefers to make you cum at least once before he eases you down onto his cock. he loves to have you sobbing and begging for him.

#the ones who live #the walking dead #rick grimes #andrew lincoln #gn reader x rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #fanfiction #gender neutral reader #towl #twd #twd towl

[intoxicated-chan]

CW ➳ Gender Neutral Reader/No use of (Y/n), sexual content, quickies, humiliation, pet names (baby)public sex, hair pulling, nearly getting caught?

Daryl has a love hate relationship when it comes to quickies.

He stopped complaining about them when he realized that he barely had time for anything but he used them to humiliate you in the worst way, taking advantage of the situation.

It’s always when you and Daryl are part of a group going a run. He’d find some excuse to bend you over and slap a hand over your mouth. He’d enjoy it whenever someone was close, thrusting even harder and faster, making it difficult to keep quiet.

You both were in the hayloft, second floor of some barn you all had found. He had you bent over the straw bale, poking and itching your exposed skin.

You moaned into the palm of Daryl’s hand, eyes shut as you felt him tugging your hair again. “Ya love this, don’ ya? Love hearin’ people hear ya?” Daryl chuckled.

You attempted to shake your head but your mind was clouded, your hands cling onto the straw for life.

“Daryl? Are y’all in here?” One member poked their head into the barn.

Your hand flew to Daryl’s, trying to look back at him but all you saw was a smirk. “Go on baby.” He pulled you up by your hair, back hitting his chest. “Sing for me.”

Taglist under the cut…

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.

Taglist ➳ @celtic-crossbow , @duffmckagansbandana , @raspberryslxt , @lor-geeked , @thegeorgiahuntsman , @number1bashbabe , @ladylincoln , @of-storms-and-sadness , @annhells , @sexyxdylanxobrien , @namikyento , @let-love-bleeds-red , @scudslut , @raoudixs , @sleep-queen ,

#x reader #x gender neutral reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixion x reader #twd daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #twd x y/n #twd x you #twd smut #the walking dead x y/n #the walking dead x you #the walking dead smut #daryl dixion smut #daryl dixon smut #daryl smut #norman reedus x reader #twd x reader #the walking dead x reader #daryl dixon

[lowkeyrobin]

Fine I'll give you fluff 🙄....Carl and reader find this huge museum and decided to check it out for supplies to find out the museum has been untouched there's no signs of walker or human and since Carl and reader are still children they decided to fuck around and even give themselves a tour of the museum and it ends with sweet first kisses 😚

- ♣️

heyyyyy ♣️ of course and thank you. the Luke castellan req u sent me is already hurting and I've barely written any of it yet LMFAO ; also didn't know how to do the kissing bit so I'm sorry :( I've never been to a museum so ifk djsndmsm ; I should've scrapped this it's so bad wth

CARL GRIMES ; museum

summary ; you and carl go on a run and take a tour of a museum

warnings ; language, mentions of knives

genre ; fluff

word count ; 1k

masterlist

You and Carl approach the large building, gazing upon the well-founded structure. It was a curvature shape, large glass windows covering it, pulling in gallons of sunlight each day. You couldn't imagine the amount of sunbleach on the floor inside if it was that familiar thin carpeting like in arcades or inside al Chuck E Cheese's across the globe.

As you walk closer, killing any stray walkers with your knives, you notice there's a whole layer below the upper, circular part of the building. It's held up by pillars, protected by shade, and only covered in a few tall windows here and there. Below that, it sinks into the ground a bit with the help of some staircases on each side behind the sign and little wall to prevent casualties. It was more boxy, however, still covered in windows. The whole structure looked freakishly modern, like the world didn't end back in 2010 here, like the world just kept spinning up til now, apparently. It was a little freaky seeing it, but you brushed it off. Whatever this place was, they probably pulled in millions of dollars a month to look like this.

You approach the front, seeing Virginia Museum of History & Culture in bold lettering above the main doors.

Now, you and your long-time friend Carl never got to learn all that much about history or culture, seeing as the world ended in the middle of your fifth grade year. All through elementary school, it wasn't something anyone was teaching a bunch of little kids who'd forget within an hour over recess.

The two of you share a shrug and nod, deciding to go in to look for any food or resources. You keep your weapons ready and in hand, prepared to take down as many walkers as need be.

The first challenge was getting inside, however. The door was locked. Luckily, Carl was able to pick the lock with a spare safety pin he kept in his pocket for this exact reason, and he slowly pushed the door open with his foot. His boot leaves a print on the door from the dirt and dust on the ground, leaving the stainless steel door a little messy as you both enter.

You clear out each large room, finding no signs of life, or death for that matter. You closely examine all of the WW2 replica artifacts and read the little signs, teaching you about the nearly hundred-year-old war. It was pretty interesting to you, considering the only war education you'd gained was being part of one yourself with the whole Negan and the Saviors thing.

Carl notices you reading as he breaks open some protective glass, opening a stash of rifles that'd been found post-war on the battlegrounds in Virginia.

"Think they still work?" He asks you, holding one up in his hand.

You shrug, "How would I know?"

He nods and shrugs, agreeing with your statement. However, you'd take anything you could get your hands on at the moment, food, guns, ammo, anything.

You two unlock a long forgotten childlike curiosity, exploring the museum for all its knowledge. You learn a lot about cultures and wars walking around the building, about ancient Aztec civilizations and the Civil War.

You ended up finding a little bit of food and some guns and ammo. I mean, a museum would never be a go-to for apocalypse rations anyway.

The two of you sit down in front of the windows near the front of the building, giggling and gasping for air after playing tag for a solid twenty minutes. Your cheeks are flushed and you run a hand through your hair, trying to cool yourself down a bit.

"I didn't know you could run so fast" Carl chuckles, lightly nudging your shoulder.

You shrug with a light smile and reply with a sarcastic and snarky tone, "My urgency to get away from you is showing"

"Hey!"

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

You stick close to Carl, heading into a locked portion of the building, staff only. You wield your knives, cautiously turning the lights on.

Nothing, once again.

Another lunch room, weird enough. But it had plenty of non-perishables you could take. Including spaghetti-o's, which you hadn't had in years. The warm, metal taste could already be tasted on your tongue as you imagined the beautiful taste of the noodles and sauce again.

Carl turns to you, "Ready to go? It's nearly dark"

You nod, "Go on without me, I wanna go in that section we didn't really explore yet"

He shrugs, "I'll come with you"

"It's fine-"

"You wanna learn more, don't you?"

You shrug and nod.

"Nerd" He teasingly chuckles, "C'mon, let's make it quick"

You quickly run out to the section you didn't get to explore much, learning all about JFK's assassination. God, if the internet got to progress any further, you'd be all over Reddit sharing conspiracies and theories about this right now.

"Holy shit, dude took two bullets, what the fuck?"

"Damn"

You begin to rant as you read the little book on the podium, silencing Carl as he sits on the floor. His feet hurt, and his shoulders were beginning to ache, so he decided to sit down like this was kindergarten storytime.

You stand and speak, using your hands to communicate through body language as he attentively listens to you. He looks up at you with admiration, like he was genuinely focused on you and only you. You stop to breathe, your throat dry as you shut the book.

Carl fixes his hat, handing you some water.

"Ready to go home and eat these spaghetti-o's that I know you're dying to eat?"

"Yes please!"

#lowkeyrobin #twd x reader #twd preferences #twd teens #twd fanfiction #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes #chandler riggs #chandler riggs x reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead preferences #the walking dead oneshot #carl grimes oneshot #they/them reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader

[munsonshire]

Carl Grimes as your Boyfriend

Disclaimer: I'm not talking about child Carl, like, not the first seasons, more like the ones before his death when he was older. And no, there is not gonna be any 18+ stuff on this one. Also, this is gender-neutral. Masterlist

He's very protective over you, like, he won't forbid you to do anything but he will tell you to be careful

He likes taking you on little dates, whether it's inside or outside of Alexandria.

His fave is taking you to this one lake close to Alexandria to swim (you both clean it of walkers before doing anything else).

You are the only person in the group that can steal his hat.

He showed you his eye scar sometime after he got it, he does trust you very much.

You carved your initials on a tree because you're just cheesy like that.

He lets you borrow his flannels all the time.

When Negan comes he quickly figures out that you two are dating and in his own twisted way, he praises Carl for getting himself such a beautiful partner, though he does use you against him when threatening the group.

He won't let you come close to him with scissors, as much as he trusts you his hair is sacred to him.

Likes playing little silly games with you when there's nothing else to do, like hide and seek or something like that

You found a monopoly on a run and brought it back to Alexandria, you sometimes play with it, and he gets really defensive (in a funny way) when he owes you money, he will start saying stuff about how money is now unuseful and all that, it's cute

He's the little spoon, the poor boy needs some love, he will pout and make sad faces if for some reason you want to be the small spoon, he wants to be held

His first and main love language is quality time so he will try to spend all of his free time with you

He likes reading all his comics with you, he sometimes acts like a total nerd talking about Marvel or StarWars and all the theories that he has about what happens in the comics

He's the kind of guy that does the yawn thing, where he yawns and puts his arm around your shoulders

Will let you play with his hair and even braid it sometimes

Makes random bets with you about anything that he can think of, he always bets the same, A kiss

Holds your hand all the time

#carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #carl grrimes twd #the walking dead hc #the walking dead headcanons #the walking dead carl #grimes #carl grimes twd #the walking dead x reader #carl grimes x reader headcanons #carl grimes as your boyfriend #the walking dead #twd hc #twd headcanons #twd carl #twd carl grimes #carl grimes x gender neutral reader

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

reader pronouns: unspecified “Daryl—” you started, sipping your tea casually. You were sitting sideways on the couch in just an oversized sweater and your underwear, your bare legs draped over his lap. It was comfortable bliss. One of his hands was wandering aimlessly up and down your leg, sending goosebumps rising all over you whenever his fingers trailed over your thigh. “Are you making a point?” you asked him, a subtle smirk on your face.

“Huh?” he glanced over at you, a question on his brow. 

“Well, I’ve just glanced out the window and noticed that your bike is in the middle of the lawn.”

Daryl cleared his throat a little nervously and shrugged. “And? What’re ya worried ‘bout, the damn grass?”

You gave him a knowing look. “Does this have to do with that guy yesterday? The one who was hitting on me?”

He ducked his gaze. “What? No...” Then he hesitated as you let out a skeptical but good-natured laugh. “Alrigh’, maybe... I just—maybe I want people to know that we’re—ya know, together. Together together.”

You smiled at him. “I can open the window right now and shout it out to all of Alexandria if you’d like?”

“Stop,” he rolled your eyes. 

“No, really! I don’t mind! I want everyone to know too. Managing to catch you, it’s something to brag about,” you said, biting your bottom lip and giving him a warm look. He still blushed slightly pink.

“Would ya quit?” he drawled. You set your tea down hurriedly and straddled over his hips on the couch, looping your arms around his neck.

“No. I won’t quit. Parking that in my front yard wasn’t exactly subtle,” you laughed. “But I don’t mind.” You ran your fingers down a wavy strand of his hair. As soon as you’d settled over his lap, both his hands went around you and slipped under your sweater to press to your bare skin. “If you need ideas for even more obvious ways to tell people let me know. We could just start making out in public places—”

“Quit it—”

“Ooooh! Matching FACE tattoos,” you joked.

“Y/N—”

“Start dressing alike?” But then you dissolved into laughter as he let out a gruff growl and pressed his lips to your neck, quickly melting you back into a distracted puddle. Prompt: “Parking that in my front yard wasn’t exactly subtle.”

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles #gender neutral reader #reader pronouns: unspecified

[spanktony]

“YOU TOOK A BULLET FOR ME…” - rosita espinosa

summary: you take a bullet for her.

words: 800+

warnings: gun/gunshot, near death experience, and that’s all i believe.

notes: posting this as i try my hardest to get out of writers block & answer my requests! also lost the request to this ☹️

navigation. request.

You had found yourself in Negan's group, the Saviors. You didn't exactly like what you did—taking raids on random communities—but you understood that it was necessary for your survival in this post-apocalyptic world.

Negan knew you since you were a teenager, and he saw potential in you. He believed that you had what it took to be a valuable member of his group, and he made sure to keep a close eye on your progress. Which is exactly why you joined him on a hot afternoon to seize supplies from a new community called "Alexandria."

"Remember, kid," Negan sneered, his barbed-wire-covered baseball bat, Lucille, resting on his shoulder. "We're here to take, not make friends." Negan said, exiting the truck. You quickly nod, following behind him as you both approach the gates of Alexandria.

The gates were opened quickly, and everyone began to take supplies from the community, loading them into the back of the truck. You watched the chaos unfold, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. Deep down, you knew that this was not the kind of person you wanted to become, but what choice did you have?

You help one of your fellow group members load a crate of food into the truck, trying to push away your conflicting emotions. Dwight walks up to you, "See that car over there? I think they might be holding something in there, check for me."

You nod, making your way over to the car. A woman in an olive-green top stands in front of the trunk of the car. You send a slight smile, wiping your forehead of sweat as you approach her.

"Mind moving?" You ask politely, gesturing towards the trunk of the car. The woman gives you a suspicious look before reluctantly stepping aside. As you open the trunk, you can't help but wonder what you might find inside.

The trunk is filled with guns, ammunition, and various other weapons. You glance at Negan and Dwight, occupied with taking other supplies from someone else. You take a deep breath, grapping some of the weapons. The woman is watching you with an upset look on her face.

You leave a few of the weapons behind, not wanting to take everything. You turn to the woman, "Maybe next time hide in a better spot," you suggest, trying to lighten the tension.

The woman's expression softens slightly, but she remains silent.

That was the first time you met Rosita, the next couple of times you saw her, she kept that same guarded expression. It became clear that she was still wary of you, despite your attempts to ease the tension. Nonetheless, you still continued to make small talk with her, hoping to gradually build trust and establish a connection.

You shared stories of your own experiences and asked her about her interests, trying to find common ground. Slowly, Rosita began to open up, sharing snippets of her life and even cracking a smile from time to time. It was a slow process, but you were determined to break through the walls she had built around herself.

As the days turned into weeks, your conversations became more meaningful and genuine, and you could sense a growing bond between the two of you.

Just as your group was leaving, one of your members got into an argument with Rosita, and she didn't look like she was backing down anytime soon. Instead of letting the situation escalate, you walked over to the two, attempting to mediate and diffuse the tension.

But your group member acted too quickly, pulling out a weapon and pointing it at Rosita. You immediately stepped in front of the gun. A loud sound rang out as you felt a sharp and hot pain in your chest.

You fell to the ground, gasping for breath and clutching your chest in agony. Ringing and Rosita's voice calling for help filled your ears, but your vision started to blur as darkness closed in.

Days blurred together as you drifted in and out of consciousness. When you finally awoke, you found yourself in a small, makeshift infirmary. The harsh, sterile scent of antiseptics filled the air, and you realized you were no longer with the Saviors.

Rosita sat at your bedside, her eyes filled with relief as she saw you awake. "You took a bullet for me," she said softly, her voice tinged with disbelief.

You managed a weak smile, wincing at the pain. "I guess I did." You glanced around the room, noticing the bandages wrapped tightly around your torso. "How long have I been out?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Rosita's expression softened as she replied, "Almost a week." Shit.

"How am I supposed to get back to my group?" You thought aloud, concern etched on your face. Rosita's eyes flickered with worry as she responded, "You can't go back to Negan after what happened. It's too dangerous."

You sighed, realizing the gravity of the situation. "I know," you murmured, a sense of uncertainty creeping in. "But what else am I supposed to do? I doubt your group would be willing to take me in permanently."

Rosita's expression softened as she reached out to touch your arm gently. "I'll convince them. For now, relax." You nodded, grateful for Rosita's support. "Thank you," you whispered.

#spanktony #tonyspank #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead #twd x reader #twd rosita #rosita espinosa x reader #rosita x reader #rosita espinosa imagine #rosita espinosa #thewalkingdead #gender neutral reader

[loganlostitall]

THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND

Rating: 18+ for sure

Word count: 1.7k

Characters: Negan Smith, adult gender neutral reader

Setting: Riverbend, season 11 episode 13

Content warnings: light spoilers!!! Be mindful of your own knowledge of the show. Oral sex (M receiving) and also references to oral sex (gn receiving), cum swallowing, spit/drool, slight mention of typical TWD violence, very brief speculation of Negan being dead ig?

Summary: you were in a relationship with Negan before he disappeared without a trace after Maggie took out the Reapers and found Alden. Just when you’re wondering if hope of finding him again is lost… there he is. And he’s very excited to see you.

Author’s note: I literally have no idea where this came from lmfao. I haven’t written in months and suddenly after listening to TDOPOM this little idea popped into my head and I couldn’t banish it so I sat down and slammed this out. Considering that there’s things I’ve had started since September, that’s a huge feat for me lmao. Anyways !!!

No beta, I’m gonna die with my errors like a man 🫡

NSFW under the cut

How long had it been, exactly? Whatever the amount of time, the true answer to such a question was too fucking long. Initially, when you left the Commonwealth a few days prior to venture further than your previous run in search of “resources” (also known as: your missing boyfriend; that you fully suspected everyone was too smart to believe you were looking for anything different, but continued lying to them anyway to avoid any emotional conflict) you hadn’t exactly… expected to actually find him. A piece of you had started to wonder if the time would come where you sunk a blade between a pair of vacant, milky eyes you’d despised and then adored.  

And so, you certainly were taken by surprise when one hand snatched your arm and the other covered your mouth just as it had fallen open to loose a scream. Catching the barest glimpse of familiar ink etched across the skin of your assailant’s arm, tears stung your eyes when you realized with nausea sinking low in your gut that you weren’t ready to take him out. Brain not even acknowledging the relieving factor that the fingers touching you were warm. 

In your searching for him, he found you. How poetic. 

Those same hands hadn’t left your body since. Like right now, one at the base of your skull; fingernails repetitively scratching your scalp, ever so slightly. 

“God fucking damn, I’ve missed this. I mean, I missed you too, of fuckin’ course I did, but this? Fucking incredible.” The slew of complimentary expletives were muttered through grit teeth, and between unsteady huffs of breath. A pinched groan followed immediately after the thick words. He was going to attract walkers; as flattering as it was, that was the first thought to come to mind and on instinct you retaliated what he had subjected you to not much earlier by slowly grazing your palm up the planes of his stomach, over his chest, and to his mouth... which only served to inspire another moan. 

His head bobbed side to side with some dazed form of a nod and he flashed a tired—but still as gorgeous as usual—smile when he pulled your hand away. “Okay, okay, I’ll shut the hell up,” he sighed, much quieter though clearly without lack of restraint. Pride resounded through you with every flex of his jaw.

The phantom sensation of your back being pinned flat against the tree where Negan’s is now was still very prominent, though the only evidence to show for it was the glisten of his lips and the smudges over the fabric of his jeans that clothed his knees. A dull throb resonated between your thighs when you lowered your eyes to admire the very proof of his head being nestled there not very long ago, and the hum when you smirked around his cock gave him no choice but to bite down on his fist and keep quiet. 

With that, you returned to the task at hand or, rather, at hand and mouth. Hollowing your cheeks, you sunk down until the head of his dick nudged against the back of your throat and did absolutely nothing to fight the gag that sounded as a result. A long time ago, in an entirely different life, things like that had bothered you. Everything about your performance needed to be perfect, until Negan. He liked when you struggled to accommodate him. Got off on it. 

The vein along the underside of his endowment jumped and you did not hesitate to flatten your tongue and press up against it, curl the tip, and drag from end to end of the hypersensitive stripe beneath Negan’s skin and revel in the shiver it drew from him. 

Scrunching his eyebrows together, he whispered, “Fuck,” and even such a short, succinct, single syllable word seemed to knock the breath out of him. His mouth thinned into a straight line, lips all but disappearing, and the back of his head made an unceremonious collision with the bark behind it. The grimace that found his face was short lived, because that was the moment you decided was perfect to bring a cupped palm and fingers to his scrotum. They drew up instantaneously upon being touched.

He was close already. Aw. He really did miss you. 

A heavy glob of saliva rolled out between his cock and your lips when they crowned over the glans, but you simply sucked in a gulping breath and followed it with your tongue rather than fearing the quality of your performance. Smearing your drool down the length of his shaft would surely ease the glide of your mouth for whatever little remainder of time there was here. You would tease him about this later, but given that Negan cumming fast was a rare occurrence, it would mainly be playful bragging. 

The practically hypnotic motion of his nails carding through the short hairs where your head met your neck ceased abruptly after deepthroating him once more, and you would have mourned the loss if not for the heavy lidded, glazed over, hazel brown eyes that truly appeared to be doing nothing less than memorizing the way every feature of your face looked when your lips were stretched around him. You pushed up on his balls and squeezed, just barely bordering outside of the threshold of pain for him, and the hissed ‘awfuck-’ was your only warning. 

Never would you have believed that you could miss the taste of a man’s cum, and yet here you were, realizing how fucking happy you were to be tasting him, swallowing everything down like some sort of elixir. Hardly an easy task around something in your mouth, and repeatedly ramming down your throat due to him holding you in place as his hips jerked, but you were more than enthusiastic despite it. All you could do was squeeze your thighs together, breathe through your nose, swallow, and allow yourself to be used for the first time in what had felt like the longest six months in your entire life. Suddenly you couldn’t remember a single sweet thing that had ever tasted better than Negan Smith.

Though logically you knew it wasn’t a very long affair, the limited intake of oxygen disoriented you enough that you couldn’t quite tell how much time passed before the grip on the back of your head relinquished and a now softening erection retracted from your mouth. You drank air into your lungs as if you’d been under water and dropped your hands, both of which had a tacky mixture of drool and precum connecting them to your lips and his skin, all while holding eye contact even though his own gaze was trained upon your swollen, sticky mouth. 

After a moment to collect himself and gather his bearings—both literally and figuratively because he tucked himself back inside of his boxers but didn’t pull up the zip, Negan offered out his hands for you to grab hold of and help you back onto your feet. There were matching patches of dirt on your knees. As you started to bend down to dust yours off, a finger hooked beneath your chin to raise your head once more. He wiped the light, streaky eyeliner you managed to score from Princess off of your cheeks; and afterwards brought the hem of his black t-shirt to your mouth that was no more than a mess of goop but that wicked tongue of his peeked out from between his teeth as he cleaned up the mess. 

“So goddamn hot, baby,” Negan rushed forward to steal a kiss, which you happily reciprocated and that same tongue followed shortly after. You could still taste yourself in his mouth. Certainly, his own flavor lingered behind as well. The groan that fled his mouth to dissolve into yours was answer enough. “Fuckin missed the taste of us. Swear my dick could get hard all over again just from this shit.” His hand dropped to your own jeans that you’d secured back over your hips after you came, just in case a situation arose and the both of you had to be able to run quickly. Bypassing the zipper, Negan slid his fingers past the waistband and dipped into your underwear to gather what remained of your excrement and his own saliva, raising it to his lips to lick his fingers clean. There had hardly been enough time to suppress a moan before his mouth found your neck and you rolled your head off to the side, giggling in the process, to allow further access. 

Unfortunately for the both of you, upon looking towards where you could only assume Negan had been taking shelter, your eyes fell to a sight that meant things would have to cease for now. 

“…Is that Gabriel?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, forgive me Father or however the fuck that goes.” 

His mouth had only ceased its assault on your throat long enough to mumble the words against your skin, sending a chill through you and raising goosebumps all over you that would have to go ignored. Much to your chagrin, Gabriel and Aaron were approaching the building that Negan’s new group resided within, and perhaps it was paranoia but a little skepticism went a long way since the dead started walking.

While half-assedly shoving his face away from yourself, you asked, “What are your new men like?”

“Not very nice,” he answered with a shrug; failing multiple attempts to dodge your hand until deciding he would settle for kissing your palm instead. Would have been endearing under any other circumstance. 

“Negan Smith!” 

“UuugghhhhUUUUUUHHH fine!” He blustered overdramatically, tossing his arms up over his head with a heaving sigh and roll of his eyes just before zipping his pants back up, and then yours after. You wiped your hands on his pants as he began walking. 

And, even despite the current circumstance, after all the time you’d spent missing him, you couldn't help but smirk at his grumblings about no amount of Hail Mary’s or Our Father’s being repentance enough for what he would do to them for giving him Blue Balls as he guided you around the building for safe entry. 

Like he hadn’t cum already. If you made it out of this, which you could never be sure of anymore, it seems like you were going to have a lot of sucking up to do. 

Literally. 

This one-shot was actually a massive challenge for me because I’ve always found it almost completely impossible to write something so short because I try to pour everything into my writing and drag it out.. which really makes me worry that this is horrible/boring 😭

Anyways, hope it’s not and people find it decent. I won’t be doing much x reader stuff because I have an OC and an entire story planned out for him when I find the time, but there will be a few ! :)

Idk who else to tag other than my loyal bffs @murdadixon @hopefulatrocity @lanadelnegan 🥰 besitos para mis bebés

#the walking dead #negan smith #negan #twd #twd negan #negan twd #negan walking dead #negan the walking dead #the walking dead negan #negan x reader #negan fanfiction #negan smut #negan imagine #negan x you #negan x female reader #negan x male reader #negan x gender neutral reader #negan x gn reader #gender neutral reader #negan x y/n #gender neutral y/n #twd fic #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #twd smut #negan smith smut #negan smith fanfiction #negan smith fic #idk how to tag this

[bumblesimagines]

Imagine:

Getting help from Daryl

Request: Yes or No

~~~

Your feet hurt. They've been hurting for weeks. Staying on the move had sounded like a good idea at first: less chance at meeting strangers, less chance at losing things, less opportunities to get attached. But now, as you run blindly through a forest with the dead following and every muscle in your body weeping, you're beginning to rethink the idea.

The leaves crunch beneath your boots and you breeze past a large tree, only having a split second to see the man before you slam into him and crumble to the ground. You groan, pain blossoming in your shoulder and it only intensifies with the backpack strap digging into your skin. You hear him curse and huff as he gathers himself and then regains his footing. An arrow catches your eye but you don't dwell on it and instead crane your neck to look up at the man, hoping to see a friendly face.

But he looks terrifying.

He glares down at you as if your existence ruined his day. He sucks his teeth and adjusts his crossbow over his shoulder, his glare remaining persistent as he looks over you, likely searching for any signs of a bite. You can help but notice some minor details: his backpack is small, hardly any use for weeks or months of solo travelling, his body was full and muscular meaning he'd have to have at least a semi decent diet, and he looks clean. Barely a speck of dirt on his face.

"You oughta watch where you're goin' next time." He speaks in a gravelly voice soaked in a southern accent. His glare softens the slightest bit. "You good?"

You don't get the chance to answer that no, you are most definitely not good. before the groans and growls of the dead grow louder. He turns and instinctively grabs his crossbow, aiming at them and shooting near-perfection accuracy. You take the distraction and swipe the arrow from the ground, stumbling up onto your feet and bolting in the opposite direction. You hear him shout after you but you don't stop. Either the dead will make a meal out of him and slow down or they'll keep him occupied until he takes them all out. You feel a prickle a guilt at the relief that fills you.

You make good distance, at least a mile or maybe two, before you slow down. Still in the forest but progress was progress. Your chest burns and you slump against a tree, leaning against it to keep weight off your exhausted legs. Your fingers loosen around the arrow and the guilt returns.

What if you had judge him too quickly?

What if he had been a husband and father?

What if his people came looking and somehow found you?

Your eyes squeeze shut and you brace your hands on your knees, feeling your bottom lip begin to quiver. Good people were hard to come by in the recent years, and he had the chance to put an arrow in your skull but didn't. Anyone else would've done it. You would've done it. You had done it.

The familiar hiss of a walker fills your ears, far too close for comfort. Your eyes snap open and you turn your head to look at it but before you can react it lunges. It's weight forces your knees to buckle and you collapse on the floor again, arm pressed to its collarbone as its jaws snaps inches away from your face. Your free hand searches for the arrow you dropped in shock and your finger brushes against the tip of its metal.

Then, you hear the whizz of an arrow and a squelch.

Blood splatters lightly onto your face and the walker thankfully goes limp. You shove it off you in one quick motion and sit up, whirling your head around to look at your savior.

"The hell were you thinkin' runnin' off like that?!" The man from before snaps at you as he walks forward, ripping the arrow from the walkers skull and tucking it back into its rightful spot.

"I was thinking I didn't want to die."

"Yeah? How'd that work out?" His demeanor seems odd. It almost feels as if you're being scolded by an old friend. He offers his hand and you stare at it. You want to take it. You really want to take it. But doubt creeps into the back of your mind.The outbreak had brought the worst out of everyone. It couldn't have been any different with this stranger. He doesn't let you think too hard on it though before he grabs your arm and flings you up onto your feet.

You take a moment to regain composure and try to avoid his gaze. You spot the arrow on the floor and pick it up, offering it back to him. "Thank you for helping me." You murmur and wipe away the leaves and dirt sticking to your clothes and arms.

"You been out here a long time, huh?" His voice gets softer, gentler. There's a hint of familiarity to it. He watches you, this time without the cold glare, and clears his throat.

"Name's Daryl."

"(Y/N)."

"Tell me, (Y/N). How many walkers you killed?"

Gifs aren't mine.

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #x female reader #x gender neutral reader #the walking dead x you #the walking dead x y/n #the walking dead x male reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead #twd #twd x reader #twd x you #daryl dixon x male reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader

[kittycatlukey]

⚠️ TW ~ Contains Some Mature Content (NSFW) And Some Vague Mentions Of Abuse‼️

⚠️ Also Contains The Walking Dead Spoilers‼️

🏹Dating Daryl Dixon Would Include🏹

-Random motorcycle rides

-“Wanna go for a ride with me?” You’d ask your boyfriend, Daryl Dixon.

-“Sure. But what kind?”

-“Daryl, get your head out of the gutter.”

-Continuous, never-ending teasing

-“You got sumthin’ on yer cheek. Lemme get it.” Daryl would say, wiping your walker blood covered face. He would lean in close, acting like he was going to kiss you but quickly pull away.

-“Daryllllll, enough with the teasing. Just kiss me already.”

-The two of you going on runs together. He would always save your ass

-Listening to music together often. You two had similar tastes in music. Metal, rock, alternative, pop, rap, classical— he liked it all. And whatever you liked, he would usually like.

-Dancing to your favorite songs together.

-Daryl wasn’t too big on PDA.

-The only thing you two did in public was hold hands.

-Occasionally, you’d kiss his cheek in public. Nothing more.

-You two knew each other for yearsssss before y’all became a thing. The two of you were best friends

-You told him how you really felt about him first. And it took him a while to admit his to you. But he came around after a few months

-Going hunting and fishing together. Not just for bringing food back to your group but also for good bonding time. You and Daryl considered them dates

-PICNIC DATES

-One thing’s for sure, Daryl was loyal to you

-“I couldn’t imagine myself with nobody else, sunshine.”

-Him teaching you everything he knows about survival. He taught you how to track shit, how to build a fire, etc.

-Daryl loved to hug you from behind. He would always kiss the top of your head

-But he also enjoyed hugging your waist while you wrapped your arms around his neck as he dug his face in your shoulder.

-Him always being the big spoon when cuddling but secretly loves when you’re the big spoon.

⚠️-He occasionally asks you if you still love him [insecure Daryl😢]. Mainly because of his abusive father in the past. But you try your best to reassure him. It breaks your heart… This especially happens after a big argument. [Poor Daryl doesn’t have enough confidence 😞]

-Jealous Daryl

-He would get jealous of Rick. He wouldn’t get jealous of anyone else. The way he carried himself, and the way Rick talked to you. The way he could make you laugh. It made Daryl insecure. But you always made sure to remind Daryl that you loved him and only him. And it helped put your man’s mind at ease.

-At one point, things got way out of hand. Rick was getting too handsy with you and Daryl completely lost it. There was a line that Rick crossed when he placed his hand on your hip and left it there and you became uncomfortable. It took a lot to get Daryl mad enough to punch Rick, but enough was enough. Abraham, Glenn, and Aaron had to get Daryl away from Rick before he beat him to a pulp.

-Later, Rick apologized (to you and Daryl) and acknowledged that he went too far and didn’t mean it in that way. And you both forgave him but Daryl never forgot it. He was always wary about Rick if he was close to you. But he knew he wouldn’t do anything. He was with Michonne now. Daryl still considered Rick his brother and trusted him with his life. Rick was just too flirty with you sometimes and that pushed Daryl over the edge. And it never happened again after that. Daryl figured Rick learned his lesson.

-His way of showing you love and affection are acts of service and gifts. Although you thrive on giving him words of affirmation, spending quality time with him, and using physical touch.

⚠️⚠️⚠️

-Daryl and you loved passionate, hot, lust-filled kisses and makeout sessions. But the two of you also enjoyed the gentle, soft, kisses filled with nothing but love. It just depended on your moods

-In the bedroom, Daryl was often on top, but didn’t mind when you got on top. He enjoyed watching your face as he made love to you, but also liked when you would ride him.

-He was a giver and a receiver, but mainly wanted to pleasure you. He focused on you. He worshipped you.

-Daryl wanted to make sure you two wouldn’t get caught when making love, by a walker or someone else. And he wanted to ensure your safety. Although having sex in the woods or fucking on his motorcycle has crossed his mind more than once. He wanted to make sure it was alright with you first. But he preferred your intimate times in a warm, soft, big bed.

-He definitely has a daddy kink.

-Daryl loves to experiment and is down to try anything. He just wouldn’t be willing to try anything that could hurt you.

-Wax playyyyy

#daryl fluff #the walking dead daryl #rick x daryl #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon edit #daryl x you #daryl fanfiction #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon x plus size reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x male reader #daryl Dixon x gender neutral reader #glenn rhee #maggie greene #carl grimes #rick grimes #michonne #beth greene #hershel greene #merle dixon #twd imagine #twd preferences

[ficnation]

Lovely - Negan Smith x Reader

requested by anonymous

Prompt list 1: 41. “I hate you.”

“Why? I’m lovely.”

Word count: 400+

Pairing: Negan Smith x Gender Neutral! Reader

Warnings: none

A/n: Enjoy this short drabble and please reblog!

Main Masterlist

The Walking Dead Masterlist

The outside is quiet as you stroll around the courtyard, boots thumping on the concrete under your feet. The night is peaceful; only the hushed voices of the crew on watch shift echo in the chilly air. A shiver rolls down your spine as you stretch your arms above your head with a yawn.

Suddenly, large, warm hands are placed on your waist, tickling your exposed flesh, startling you. You thrash around in the stranger’s arms, kicking your legs as you open your mouth to scream for help.

A palm presses over the bottom half of your face, and a very familiar voice shushes you. “It’s just me, sweetheart.”

It takes a moment for your brain to connect the voice to the face of your husband, but when you do, you exhale deeply. You nod your head for the man to release you, the tension disappearing from your body as he withdraws his touch.

You turn around to meet his eyes, slapping his leather-clad chest in annoyance. “I hate you,” you groan.

Negan grins smugly, catching your hands in his. He lifts them up to his face, leaving kisses over your knuckles. “Why? I’m lovely.”

The scowl on your face quickly turns into a soft smile as the man’s salt-and-pepper beard tickles your skin. He grabs your hips and pulls you closer into his embrace, kissing your forehead with a deep hum.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you.” His words are almost a hungry growl as he feels your hands sliding underneath the hem of his jacket and the shirt beneath.

He’s been away the majority of the day, and even when he was around, he had so much stuff going on it was hard to catch him alone. But the thought of your touch, your kisses, and sweet giggles hasn’t left his mind even once since the day started.

“Show me,” you challenge him with a chuckle.

He grins and grabs a hold of the bottom of your shirt, toying with it, his eyes locked on yours. “I plan to. Believe me, sweetheart,” his voice is velvety; it sends shivers down your spine. “I’ve been thinking of you all damn day.”

Negan pulls you closer and kisses your neck like a man starved. You can feel his warm breath against your skin as his lips glide back and forth. He slides his chin across your neck and nibbles on your ear. His jaw is tense. You can tell that he wants you—really bad. It's a promise that he'll show you just how much he missed you.

Taglist: @hopefulatrocity​ @witheringblooddemon​ @humanmistakes​ @yttricuz​ @twdeadlysins​ @donttelltheelff​ @spidergirla5​ @sexyseabass​ @sweetpotatospock​ @witchygagirl​ @tuttifuckinfruttifriday​ @hopefulatrocity​

#the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #twd #negan x reader #negan x you #negan smith #twd negan #negan smith x reader #negan x gender neutral reader #negan smith x gender neutral reader #the walking dead fic

[raz-writes-the-thing]

That Smile

Negan x TransMale!Reader (GN pronouns)

Synopsis: Negan offers some very Negan-esque support when he discovers that the Reader has had to deal with some transphobic issues at the Sanctuary.

CW: transphobia, no slurs used, Negan being very Negan, Negan being suggestive (as per usual), no pronouns used for the Reader though it is specified that they are trans male.

Requests are: OPEN

“Oh, fuck,” Negan says, looking almost like he’s about to panic. Which is decidedly not a common occurrence for him. “Shit, handsome- I didn’t mean it. I was just breaking your balls a little bit.” 

You might have made a mistake here. Of all the people you could have screamed at- the leader of the Sanctuary was probably not the smartest choice. Oh, but you just couldn’t help it. 

Not everyone stared, and not everyone was rude. There was pockets of kindness here and there- people who understood who you were and respected you for who you were. 

As always, though, there were people who did not understand. People who looked at you weird or avoided you in the market. Negan had set out rules for basic respect, but that didn’t stop the occasional hate-speech or threat. It was the end of the world, after all, not Utopia. 

“You have no idea what this is like, Negan,” you say with a sneer. He sets his jaw but doesn’t reply, letting you vent. “Every day someone makes a comment just loud enough that I can hear, or someone shoves into my shoulder. Or, hell, just the other day- someone called me something that was… absolutely vile.” 

You point an accusatory finger at the man, whose gaze is getting darker with anger by the second. 

“And you!” You start to raise your voice, and Negan’s lips twitch as if he’s trying not to grin. “You let it happen. And I am so sick of everyone’s fucking shit!” 

Negan rubs a gloved hand over his chin, chuckling darkly as he does so. 

“You done, gorgeous?” He asks, or tells, really. There’s no room for argument with the way he unclenches his jaw. “Because I have something to say, and you? You are gonna listen.” 

Negan places Lucille carefully leaned against the table before rounding it to stand before you. You swallow thickly, not sure where this is going, but not sure you like it either. 

“I need you,” he says slowly while raising a finger to brush your temple softly. “To cast your big ‘ol brain back a few days and really think about what I’m about to ask you.” 

You stumble over a few attempts at speech before he shushes you softly. 

“The fuckhead that broke the rules? Called you something he really shouldn’t have…” His eyes flit between yours, lips spreading out into a grin that would send molten heat through a celibacy-practicing nun. “...when did you see him last?”

You let out a little ‘uh’ sound, trying to order your brain to stop tumbling around and work out the answer. It had been three days since the slur, and… now that you were really thinking about it. You hadn’t seen him since. Usually he was always lurking around to get another shot in.

The realisation must have shown on your face, because Negan let out a throaty chuckle. 

“See? Now you’re gettin’ it,” he says, leaning back against the table and crossing his arms. “Now, I know you wouldn’t want me killing anyone, so, don’t worry. He’s not dead.” You bit back the sarcastic comment that threatened to spill out.

Negan runs his tongue over his bottom lip as if savouring something very sweet. Your eyes track the movement, and you know he knows it.

“But that doesn’t mean he’s having a good time, either.” 

“What did you, uh, do to him?” You ask, voice breathy with desire. No one had defended you quite like this before. And if you didn’t know any better, you’d think Negan was flirting with you just to make a point. 

But it had been like this for months. Negan putting on all the charm when you were around, and doing his damndest to get you to open up to him. He didn’t care that you were trans, he liked you for you. 

You liked him too, of course. How could you not? Big strapping man with big dick energy, a leather jacket and a phallic bat? What wasn’t to love? 

“Oh, you know,” he chuckled. “Threw him the hole for a few days. Shit, I think he’s still in there.” 

You stifled a smile, knowing that the asshole was now suffering for his crimes. Well, shit- turns out Negan did give a shit about your rights. It was almost like he was an active protestor for Trans Rights. The thought made you laugh.

“I’ll have to make a trip down there to see if he’s learned his lesson yet.” 

This time you can’t bite back the smile, and he draws out an appreciative noise. 

“Oh, there he is,” he brushes your chin with his thumb. “There’s that handsome smile. Fuck, you really turn me on, you know that?” 

Your grin splits wider and blood rises to your cheeks. 

“I’m serious!” He defends himself. “My dick is so hard right now- I could cut diamonds.”

You role your eyes at his theatrics, but he knows that you enjoy his crude comments. He knows you want him. His gaze softens for a moment, and the sincerity you see there almost makes you melt. 

“No more hiding things from me,” he says. “Something happens- someone breaks the rules? You come find me.” Negan lets out a huff of a sigh, caressing your jaw now. 

“Can’t have my handsome man upset, can we? I just live for that smile.”  

You don’t even notice the grin spreading across your lips this time. 

“Yeah, that’s the one…”

#the walking dead #comfort #the walking dead fanfiction #fanfiction #negan #negan smith #twd negan #negans thirst squad #negan x reader #negan smith x reader #soft #gender neutral reader #trans male reader #negan fanfiction #jdm #jeffrey dean morgan

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

WIP Wednesday - April 17th, 2024.

Preview of Heaven's Gate (Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader)

A/N: Despite the awful messages I have been getting lately, berating me for 'not finishing things' - I want to start doing WIP Wednesday regularly. Sometimes the things I post will not be completed and posted on my other blog. That is normal. Sometimes ideas are abandoned in favour of other ideas. Sometimes things go unfinished for any number of reasons. I have a really good feeling about this fic - it's an idea that I have had in my head since I saw Season 5 of TWD for the first time, and I have been wanting to write this fic for years. Fics like this are usually bound to be finished by me purely out of dedication to an idea I have had for years.

If you want to see the full fic when it comes out, you can follow my writing blog @sundrop-writes where it will be posted.

Warnings: I don't think there's really any warnings for this small section? The term they/them is used, but I didn't want it to be used specifically for the reader, I wanted it to be ambiguous that it could be talking about the larger group or the reader (so that people with she/her or he/him pronouns can also apply themselves to this dialogue). There are typical TWD warnings - mentions of death, spoilers for the show up through Season 4 if you're watching it for the first time. Use of Y/N because I am an old school girl, and idk - I think that's it for this section?

...

When the prison was attacked, Daryl got out with Beth. 

He almost couldn’t stand her bright eyes, big eyes staring at him, waiting for answers - her chirpy little voice, prodding at him, demanding that they ‘follow the trail’ and go look for everyone else. Telling him that he was a tracker, that he could find them. As if it was his damn responsibility just because he had the skills to get it done. 

It was all too reminiscent of you, telling him that he could find Sophia. That it wasn’t an ‘if’ - it was a ‘when’. 

Perhaps that was what got him off his ass and doing what he did best - reading the dirt. 

“What’re you doin’?” He asked, staring at the girl curiously as she went to one of the bushes and rushed to pick berries from branches. Had she not gotten enough to eat that morning? 

“They’ll be hungry when we find them.” Beth told him confidently. 

Of course. That undefeatable streak of optimism. 

Daryl knew that blueberries weren’t your favorite - but he should have something to give you. He would be too busy tracking the footprints to properly hunt for squirrels or rabbits and clean them for you. So, he found himself pulling a large bandana from his back pocket and offering it to Beth - something to hold the berries in to keep them safe as an offering for you. 

“Here.” He grunted at her. 

Beth smiled at him. 

It was one of the last smiles she gave him for a long time. 

When they came across those bodies splayed out beside the tracks - any sense of hope was crushed inside of him. The picture you had gifted him was heavy inside his breast pocket, and he hated that tears threatened his eyes - even if he knew that none of those bodies belonged to you. There was no trace of you there. 

The days started to blur into each other, and Daryl couldn’t get you off his mind. 

One hazy evening, as they both stared into the fire with dead looks on their faces, he took the drawing out of his pocket and unfolded it. 

For good luck. 

He didn’t believe in luck - because it didn’t exist. The world was fucked. Nobody was lucky. You and your good luck were dead. 

He tossed the drawing into the fire, and it was only a moment, when the corner of it had barely caught, when Beth snatched it out. She stomped on it with her boot, successfully saving it. 

“Don’t do that.” She hissed at him. 

Daryl snatched it from her, and crumbled it up, tossing it aside. He let out a grunt, but refused to look at her. 

“That was from Y/N, wasn’t it?” She posed. 

He could feel her imposing stare as she waited for an answer. 

He didn’t give her one. 

“You can’t burn them just because you think they’re dead.” Beth sighed. “You can’t burn up memories. We’re gonna find them. Y/N, and Maggie, and Michonne, and - and everyone.” 

Daryl scoffed. “Yeah. Cause that’s gon’ happen.” 

Beth rolled her eyes, but didn’t speak any further on the subject. 

After she had fallen asleep - when the fire was dull, Daryl picked up the crumbled ball and smoothed it out again. The charred corner hadn’t even touched your bird. He felt like a fool doing it, just as much of a fool as he accused you of being, but he folded it neatly - well, as neatly as he could - and then put it back into his breast pocket again. 

But that was the thing - Daryl wished that he could. He wished he could burn up those memories. 

That you would stop haunting him. Then he wouldn’t have to feel like this anymore.

#wips #current wips #wip wednesday #sundrop writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x gender neutral reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine