crossbowking

[crossbowking]

Psst...

You know what would be absolutely crazy right about now!!!

If I were to suddenly come out of "fanfiction retirement" with an idea for a new Daryl Dixon x Reader mini-series that takes place at the end of season 6/beginning of season 7!!!

That would be sooooooo crazy!!!

And omg what if the summary was something like "After the prison falls, the reader finds themselves injured, alone, and at the mercy of the cruel new world. Taken in by a powerful group known as "The Saviors", they're forced to adjust to a new way of life - eventually becoming one of their most valued soldiers. Some time later, the past and present collide in the most brutally unexpected way."

Wouldn't that be crazy!!!

So crazy...

...

Muahahahaha.

-jess xx

[crossbowking]

Hello, sweet friends.

I know I’ve been MIA for a few years now (has it really been years?? where is the time going, good lord😭) but I had the urge to pop over here and see if anybody still moseys around this page!

TWD/writing fanfic got me through some really challenging times in my 20s and I’m so grateful for the community that I built here. I stopped writing for about three years and needed to really focus on my mental health — hence my sudden disappearance. I’m happy to say I’m on the mend and have recently found my way back to creating.

I’m not sure if/when I’ll pick fanfiction back up or if I’ll just be focusing more on original work now, but if you’re still interested in my writing, feel free to follow me over on tiktok @jessvalentee where I’ve been posting some poetry/spoken word that I wrote!

Please drop a little comment if you see this and let me know how you’ve been doing! Oh, how I’ve missed you all💛

-jess xx

[crossbowking]

i love your writing so much because its easy for me to read!! im not a native english speaker so some words and phrases are difficult for me but you keep it so simple and easy to understand. love you!! 💕

aww i love you too! this makes me so happy! thank you for reaching out and sharing, it’s my favorite thing in world when i get to hear feedback from y’all so thank you🧡

[crossbowking]

I don't i've found anyone who write daryl dixon character the way you do every piece that i've read makes me feel emotion wether it's fluff or angst or both and im looking forward to read more 💛

WHY IS EVERYONE MAKING ME CRY TODAY😭

thank you so much for the kind words, you are so dang sweet I can’t even handle it💕

[crossbowking]

i looooooooooove you're stories i think i have found masterpieces 💛💛💛💛💛💛

YOU’RE KIDDINGGGG🥲

this was so cute, my heart is alskdjfhfjfjdjksla

thank you so much! i’m glad you’re enjoying my stories, darling💛

[crossbowking]

You were one of the first twd fanfic writers i had found when i first started getting into the show around a year ago (i kept trying before that but i just never finished 😭) im glad to know that you are still around and i can't imagine how much it would suck not being able to write a character you've written so much of before anymore <3 wishing you luck on motivation

aww you’re so sweet! yeah, daryl was always so easy for me to write for — the stories just kinda poured out of me, you know? but in the last year maybe, it’s been so difficult🥲 I hope you’ve been enjoying the show though! all in all, it’s honestly such a great watch! thank you again for reaching out, lovebug💛

[crossbowking]

will you write more angst with daryl dixon ?

yes, I hope so! i’ve been having some struggles with writing but I have a partially written daryl story with plenty of angst that I need to finish! arghhhhh! send some motivational vibes my way please💛

[crossbowking]

Hi how are you, i love you're stories so much you have an amazing writing skills you just do these characters justice i just love it, i know that you mostly write for daryl centric but i was wondering if you would write other twd characters centric thank you for you're work many many kudos to you.

aw! well, first of all, thank you so much! this was such a sweet ask to receive today🥹 i’m so glad you’ve been enjoying my stories and this feedback was so lovely💛

as for writing other characters in TWD, i’m honestly not sure if i’d ever veer from daryl — i’d might be able to write something smaller (like a drabble) for another character but honestly, I feel like i’ve been drifting from TWD since season 11 came out…in my opinion, it’s been pretty terrible☹️

i’ve also been branching out into the stranger things fandom which has been a nice change of scenery! so that’s been kinda my focus as of now! daryl still has a place in my heart and I have a few half-written stories i’d love to finish up sometime soon, but we shall see!

i’m curious — what does everyone else thinks of season 11?

[crossbowking]

I just found your account and binged the road ahead. It’s SOO GOOD!!! I know you said you may not be continuing with it but if you do I’ll be in the front of the line for part 20 ❤️❤️

aw, thank you🥹 that means a lot to me, i’m so glad you’ve enjoyed that story! it’s still on an indefinite hiatus but there are tons of other stories on my masterlist if you’re ever looking to read something else! i appreciate you💛

[crossbowking]

When will you kick off the walking dead series again? I just read all the chapters and seen you haven't added anything since 2018.

hi, lovely!

aww i’m so fond of my The Road Ahead series — it was so fun creating my own OC and i had so many plans for that story. unfortunately, i’m not sure if/when i’ll return to it. i’m still trying to write for daryl x reader but not as frequently as i used to — i just don’t feel as passionate about TWD these days (which is so sad because it’s been a huge part of my life🥲) so coming up with content has been a bit difficult.

((i’m not sure if any other writers feel this way — maybe it’s because the show’s coming to an end or because it’s kinda lost it’s footing this last season? also the fandom itself has been pretty quiet and that’s okay! it’s the natural ebb and flow of fanfiction lol))

anywho, this is so long winded, but the moral of the story is i don’t have a definite answer — truthfully, i don’t know if i’ll ever finish that series but you never know! things change! i’m sorry to disappoint, my friend. but thank you for checking in! i appreciate you and hope your day is wonderful💛

[crossbowking]

Sloppy Joe Special

Summary: After an incident in the cafeteria leaves the Reader feeling down, Eddie takes things into his own hands.

Word Count: 1.9k

Contains: basically fluff besides an instance of the reader being bullied during lunch, eddie x reader friendship ((though high-key mutual pining)), eddie comforting reader in all his sweetness, very soft, possible part 2???

A/N: This was a drabble request that took on a mind of its own! Soft Eddie just does things to me :')

Masterlist

Tip Jar

Splat. 

The sound of someone’s Sloppy Joe sandwich being thrown across the bustling cafeteria, hitting you directly in the center of your chest and dropping at your feet played over and over in your mind.

You’d frozen on impact, gasping as bits and pieces of lukewarm meat exploded all over you, landing in your hair and seeping into your clothes. The cafeteria had erupted into raucous laughter as Andy, one of Jason Carver’s henchmen, licked the remnants of his sandwich off his fingertips and high-fived those around him in some sort of sick victory.

Your cheeks had turned the same shade of sauce splattered across your face.

Now, hiding out in the bathroom, you were scrubbing furiously at your clothes, attempting to salvage your favorite Fleetwood Mac t-shirt. But your efforts had made it worse, the redness only spreading further as the white tee absorbed the sauce entirely. At this point, the stain was so vast that the best way to fix the situation would be to cut your losses and set the shirt on fire.

The kids at Hawkins High were ruthless, relentless in their teasing and taunting — usually, you managed to fly under the radar, but other times, like today, you ended up wearing someone’s “Sloppy Joe Special”. You huffed a breath, forcing back the lump that grew in your throat, the tears that sprung to your eyes. 

You refused to give those assholes back there the satisfaction of seeing you cry — you’d rather keel over, quite honestly.

When the door to the bathroom suddenly cracked open, you jumped away from the sink, half expecting another surprise attack — but instead, it was Eddie Munson that came into view.

He peeked his head around the door, loose curls bobbing with the momentum, one ring-laden hand clamped firmly over his eyes. “Everybody decent in here?” he called out.

You rolled your eyes despite the wave of fondness that rushed through you. 

When you didn’t respond, Eddie split two fingers apart and cracked an eye open, shooting you a lopsided smile before slipping inside the bathroom. 

You fought back the urge to shrink under his scrutiny, his gaze sweeping over you, up and down, settling on the giant, red stain in the center of your shirt. It had all happened so fast, you weren’t even sure he’d seen what happened or simply heard through ‘word of mouth’ — gossip spread quickly around the school, he was no stranger to that.

Eddie leaned against the sink beside yours and crossed his arms against his chest, cocking his head to the side. “This is quite the look,” he remarked coyly. “I’ve gotta say though, sweetheart, you really do pull it off.”

You ignored his comment, tugging at the bottom of the fabric as you examined the damage further. “This was my favorite shirt,” you sighed, tracing the band’s logo with the tip of your finger.

“Really?” Eddie retorted, scrunching his nose up in blatant disapproval. “I always forget about your trash taste in music.”

You shot him a glare from beneath your eyelashes. “Don’t diss Stevie Nicks like that.”

Eddie relented, letting out a laugh that echoed off the walls of the bathroom, that eased the tension you hadn’t realized settled in your shoulders. 

The boy just had that kind of effect on you. 

When you felt your cheeks warm, you turned back towards the bathroom mirror, grabbing a paper towel and wetting it under the faucet. You dabbed at your cheeks, beneath your chin, near your hairline, cleaning up the sauce that’d begun to dry there. After a few moments of silence stretched on, something you weren’t used to when in the presence of Eddie, you glanced at his reflection in the mirror when you knew he wasn’t looking.

He was watching you carefully, brow furrowed above darkened eyes. His mouth twitched as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, toying absently with one of his brunette curls. It was the troubled expression on his face though that broke your damn heart.

He looked so…so…

So fucking sad.

When he caught you staring, he snapped out of whatever reverie he’d found himself in, another lazy smile slipping over his features — though this one didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Here, you’ve got —“ he pushed off the sink, moving to stand behind you, “— you’ve got shit in your hair.”

You subconsciously stiffened at the sudden closeness, watching in the mirror as he began to pick at the pieces of ground meat that’d gotten caught in your locks. His touch was surprisingly gentle, his fingertips combing through your hair and tickling your scalp, sending a chill from the base of your skull down your spine. 

His eyes flashed up to meet yours, the sound of your breath catching in your throat amplified in the quiet. 

A small smirk toyed at the corner of his mouth as he focused back on the task at hand. “There you go,” he declared a moment later, flicking away a tiny piece of food that’d stuck to his thumbnail. “Good as new.”

You ran a hand through your hair, brushing through the tangles. “Thanks, Eds,” you murmured, slipping on the sweatshirt you’d grabbed from your locker over your t-shirt.

But when you turned to leave, Eddie remained rooted in place.

The two of you stood face to face, your back pressed up against the sink. He looked like he wanted to say something but it was like he didn’t quite know how to say it, like he was struggling for the right words. He let out a resigned sigh, placing his hands on either of your shoulders and leaning in a fraction. “Don’t let them get to you, okay? Those pricks —“ he shook his head, a flash of anger flickering over his expression, “— well, they’re pricks.” 

You huffed a humorless laugh, staring down at the dirty bathroom floor. “No shit,” you mumbled, digging the toe of your shoe against the tile, hating how vulnerable you suddenly sounded.

Eddie reached for you then, his pointer finger curling beneath your chin, his thumb pressed gently against the pad of flesh beneath your lips. He tilted your head up so you would look at him, his fiery gaze softening. “You are the best person I know, Y/N,” he enunciated each word, slowly, his chocolate eyes turning to honey. “To hell with anyone who thinks otherwise.”

A small, somewhat bashful, smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah?” you murmured.

“Are you kidding?” he scoffed like it was the most obvious thing in the world, his fingers slipping away from your chin. “I would’ve dropped out of this shit hole a long time ago — but someone’s gotta stick around and pick soggy meat out of your hair.”

A surprised laugh bubbled out of you, erasing any negative feelings that lingered. “Aw, shucks, my hero,” you cooed, batting your eyelashes as Eddie let out a laugh of his own, familiar with the way you danced around each other when the line between “friendship” and “something more” muddled.

He slung his arm across your shoulders. “And hey, at least you don’t have to worry about that asshole bothering you for a while,” he said then, swinging open the bathroom door and ushering you out.

You slipped out from under him once you made it into the hallway, turning to face him. “What’d you mean?” you asked, confusion evident on your features.

“Oh, you didn’t hear?” Eddie cocked a brow, leaning closer and speaking in a hushed tone. “Principal Coleman found ‘suspicious items’ in Andy’s gym locker — anonymous tip, apparently,” he shrugged, very clearly fighting back a smirk.

It only took a moment for the mischievous gleam in his eye to clue you in on what exactly he was getting at. You gasped. “Oh my God, Eddie!” 

“What!” he exclaimed, leaning against the lockers beside you, a shit-eating grin firmly planted on his face. 

You dropped your head into your hands. “Do I even want to know what you put in there?” you mumbled through your fingertips, glancing up at him. 

Eddie scratched the top of his head. “Probably not,” he admitted, albeit sheepishly.

A giggle slipped past your lips when you imagined the look on Andy’s face when he was pulled into the principal’s office. Eddie had really outdone himself this time — and it was then and there that you realized, without a doubt, that he too was the best person you’d ever known. 

Suddenly, the bell rang, alerting the students of Hawkins High that it was time to head to their next class. Kids began piling out of their classrooms, the hallway a sea of backpacks and chit-chat. You glanced around cautiously, making sure no one was eavesdropping before you took a small step toward Eddie and lowered your voice. “You didn’t have to do that for me, you know,” you whispered, unable to help the ping of worry you felt that someone might realize what he’d done.

But he simply scoffed a soft breath, resting his forearm against the lockers above you, leaning in even closer. “Nobody should treat you like that and get away with it,” he murmured, his dark gaze unwavering and steadfast. “Over my — exquisitely crafted and ruggedly handsome— dead body,” he grinned then, waggling his eyebrows, the goofy side of him back in full swing. 

You merely shook your head, huffing a laugh of your own, feeling a redness creep up the base of your neck — being with Eddie sometimes felt like ‘emotional whiplash’ in the best way possible. You wouldn’t change it for the world. 

A second bell rang soon after, signaling the final call for students to get to class before being marked as ‘tardy’. “Shit, one more late and it’s Saturday detention for me,” Eddie swore, quickly pushing away from the wall, giving you a swift kiss on the cheek, and turning on his heel to leave.

But he only made it a couple of feet when he twirled back around, pointing a finger at you as he continued to saunter backward. “We getting food after school?” he called out, a ritual the two of you practiced religiously every Friday.

You nodded. “Anything but Sloppy Joe’s!” you yelled back, smiling cheekily, feeling much better than you had just a few minutes ago.

Eddie’s face lit up as he raised his hands over his head, proudly displaying both of his middle fingers. “Sloppy Joe’s can go fuck themselves!” he cheered, letting out a loud ‘whoop’ while a few students shot him strange looks and one teacher chastised him.

But he paid them no mind — instead sending a wink your way, spinning right side round, and hurrying the rest of the way down the hall, a bounce to his step that wasn’t there before.

You watched him leave, uncaring if you were late to your next class, affection rooting you in place. The line between you, the one that distinguished “friendship” from “something more”, was getting foggier as more and more time went on. There was just something there — a spark, a connection, whatever you wanted to call it. 

And one day, that line would break.

It was only a matter of time.

With a sigh, you fell back against the lockers, resting your fingertips against the apple of your cheek. You swore it still tingled in the spot where his lips had touched you last.

An invisible marking only you could feel.

A/N: Okay, I had no intention of making a part 2 for this but I'm almost feeling like it NEEDS one??? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Tag List

@ghosttownwherenoonegoes @superflannel @allwomenarequeenthots @thefemininemystiquee @h-ness1944 @florqnces @doomed-raven @eddies-princess86 @tweedlydumbtweedlydoo @kulicny @hazydespair @singularattitudeofasafetypin @gabxbyr @lookalivesunshine-x @zerefxdarlings

Let me know if you'd like to be added to my Eddie tag list! :)

[crossbowking]

I’m so glad you’re back writting Daryl 😭🥹

aw, me too, angel! i’m glad i was able to get a new story out to y’all, i know it’s been a while! i think branching off into other fandoms has actually helped with my motivation! i’m hoping to have some more daryl stuff out soon! i appreciate you💛

(check out my new fic — “Lines We Cross” — if you are craving a little angsty/angry/protective daryl!)

[crossbowking]

For the Eddie drabbles, can you do “You are the best person I know”? Thank you! I love your writing🌸

this one quickly got out of hand and is now a full-blown oneshot lol thank you for the request! I just need to finish editing and then it’ll be out tomorrow! stay tuned💛

[crossbowking]

I'm so excited for you new Eddie fic! No rush take your time but from the description you posted I can tell it'll be right up my alley lol, also I don't think I've seen any similar fics w the concepts your using so I'm just rlly excited it's so unique and I love you're writing so yeah can't wait! 😊💖

this was so DANG SWEET. are you KIDDING ME. thank you the kind words, angel — i’m so excited to get it out to y’all! it’s been a busy week but hopefully over the next few days i’ll be able to start posting! eeeeek!

[crossbowking]

I've got bronchitis (apparently somebody's got time for that) and I've just been binge reading your Daryl fics! I absolutely love every single one of them. They're beautiful, personal and emotional and so well written. You've captured what I imagine Mr Dixon would be like, my teeth hurt from the fluffy fics and my heart hurts from the gorgeous angsts. Thank you for posting them for people to enjoy!!

ARE YOU KIDDINGGGGG😭

This is the sweetest thing I’ve ever read, what the heck! I’m so glad you’ve been enjoying my work and they’ve brought you some comfort while you’re healing! I hope you feel better so soon, my lovebug. Thank you again so much for reaching out — this truly made my whole day💛

[crossbowking]

Lines We Cross

Summary: (Set early season 4) A close call brings out a fiery side to Daryl.

Request: First of all I LOVE YOU SO MUCH❤️❤️❤️ My request is with this one we got right here... Angry Daryl. Since this scene was one of the best angry Daryl moments👀 - @sweatywildpanda (GIF selected below)

A/N: And I love YOU! Thanks for the request! Angry Daryl makes my stomach go LAKSDFJLKSDFHAKS lol this scene is so amazing, but I decided to switch it up a little to incorporate the Reader :)

Hope you like it!

xx Jess

Masterlist

Tip Jar

"Bob, let it go!”

"Let it go, man! Just let it go!"

“Let go of the bag, man!”

You gnashed your teeth together, attempting to readjust your vice-like grip around Bob's ankle as the others continued their pleas around you.

The upper half of the man's body hung precariously off the side of the walkway your group teetered on, a ferocious hoard of walkers having formed just below, pulling on one strap of his backpack — Bob continued to hold desperately onto the second, the other’s shouts unheard amongst the roar of the dead.

Tyreese knelt beside him then, attempting to shake off the dead’s grasp while Michonne stabbed her katana downward, trying to fend off the growing herd one by one.

"I'm losing him!" you cried out, feeling him slowly begin to slip away.

"Drop the damn thing, Bob!" the archer's voice suddenly sounded, cutting through the noise as he dropped beside you, grabbing onto the waistband of the man's pants and tugging backward.

The struggle ensued until finally, you felt the tension give way, allowing you and Daryl to pull Bob back onto the safety of the walkway. You fell onto your backside with a huff, your fingertips feeling fuzzy as you stretched them out, hissing softly from the strain.

A hand appeared in front of you then, calloused, dirt-stained, familiar. “Hey, ya good?” Daryl rasped as you took his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you nodded, slightly out of breath before you turned to look at Bob.

His bag — the one that’d nearly cost him his life — was now held close to his chest, his arms wrapped around it protectively as he shifted somewhat nervously back and forth.

“What the hell, man?” Daryl broke the silence, taking a step toward him.

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed, Bob — what were you thinking?” Michonne interjected, much calmer than the archer, her brow furrowed with concern.

Tyreese inserted himself between Michonne and Bob, holding his hands out. “Listen, this conversation can wait — we need to get back to our people, get these meds in them,” he reasoned.

“Ty’s right — we can talk about this later,” you nodded, stepping forward and shooting Daryl a look, urging him to let it go.

The archer hesitated briefly before relenting, pushing past Bob without another word and heading towards where he'd dropped his crossbow moments ago. 

Bob glanced back at you, his expression twisted in what looked like guilt and you felt a pang of pity. "It's okay," you tried to reassure him, shooting the man a tight-lipped smile. 

He simply hung his head as he turned to follow the others.

But then, as Bob readjusted his hold around the bag he'd clung to, the unmistakable sound of glass clinking echoed from its confines.

You froze, mid-step, as the others whipped around and stared back at Bob in utter disbelief. A moment of stillness stretched between you before Daryl suddenly stormed back towards the shell-shocked man, his expression skewing, turning nearly animalistic as he reached for the bag.

Except when the archer grabbed it, Bob didn’t let go — instead, the man jerked it in the other direction, leading to a very brief “tug-of-war” of sorts. You could see Daryl growing more frustrated, Bob more desperate, and quickly stepped forward to mediate the situation.

“Hey, hey, come on!” you tried to intervene, placing a hand on Bob’s shoulder from behind him.

Although when the man yanked the bag back once again, this time with even more force, the strap Daryl held slipped from his grasp. The momentum forced Bob to collide into you, sending you careening backward towards the edge of the walkway, a swarm of the dead just beneath. Your arms flailed, lungs seized, as you teetered on the lip of the rusted metal with a strangled gasp, fighting futilely for balance.

But gravity did what it did best.

And so you squeezed your eyes shut, and in the next moment, you were falling.

Except when the ground never rushed up to meet you, your eyes snapped open.

It wasn’t until then that you felt it — a hand, wrapped around your own, suspending you in mid-air. 

Calloused, dirt-stained, familiar.

A gasp flew past your lips as you were suddenly yanked back onto the walkway, crashing into the archer’s solid chest. You grabbed onto the front of his vest, your legs feeling wobbly as the reality of what almost just happened rocked through you.

Daryl gripped his fingertips around either of your arms, studying you somewhat frantically as you steadied in his grasp. 

The pressure beneath his touch grounded you further. 

“I’m —” you heaved, still unable to catch your breath. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” you managed, nodding shakily, unsure of who you were trying to convince.

The archer’s expression shifted then, darkened, in a way you’d never seen before — then he whirled around, his back now to you. “You stupid son of a bitch,” he snarled, crossing to Bob in two long strides and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

“Daryl, don’t —” Michonne attempted to intervene, though her words fell on deaf ears.

“Ya could a’ fuckin’ killed her!” the archer growled, giving Bob a rough shake.

“It was an accident — I didn’t mean — I swear —” Bob fumbled for the right words, glancing at you from over Daryl’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m —”

“Save it,” Daryl hissed sharply, yanking away the bag still in Bob’s grasp and pushing past him, pulling the top open and peering inside. He stilled, scoffing harshly as he reached in and pulled out a bottle of liquor.

You felt your stomach twist — you’d nearly lost your life over a cheap, half-drunken bottle of whiskey.  

“Got no meds in your bag? Jus’ this?” the archer rasped, betrayal laced around the words.

The resounding silence that followed was the only answer needed.

Daryl shook his head in disbelief. “Ya should a’ kept walkin’ that day,” he growled.

He held Bob’s remorseful stare a moment longer before turning from him, gripping the neck of the bottle, and cocking his arm back — but right before he could launch it over the side of the walkway, Bob suddenly spoke.

“Don’t,” he warned, shifting so his hand hovered over the gun strapped against his waist — he had only moved an inch or so, but the intent was clear.

Michonne and Tyreese’s attention snapped towards Bob, equal looks of bewilderment in their gazes, like they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. You felt a swell of anger rise in your chest, turning your skin red-hot, prickling beneath the surface. The hunting knife you kept tucked in the sheath around your thigh slid into your hand.

Daryl, on the other hand, didn’t even seem phased by the minuscule threat. He stalked towards Bob like a feral animal, closing the distance between them, eyes narrowed, chest puffed, as though daring him to make another move. He grabbed Bob’s gun from its holster and you almost wondered if the archer would put a bullet in him for even considering what had crossed his mind — but instead, he gripped onto the collar of Bob’s shirt once more, looking a moment away from losing what little restraint he had left.

“Just let it go, Daryl,” Tyreese spoke up before the tension could spill over. “The man made his choice. Nothing you can do about it — just gotta let it go.”

“I didn’t want to hurt nobody,” Bob hung his head, shaking it sadly, unable to make eye contact with anybody. “It was just for when it gets quiet.”

You let out a shaky breath, catching Daryl’s eye from over Bob’s shoulder. Something flickered over his expression — resolve, maybe even understanding. But his features hardened quickly as he pressed the bottle against Bob’s chest. “Ya take one sip before those meds get in our people…” he threatened, leaning forward until they were practically nose to nose. “I will beat your ass into the ground,” he growled harshly, giving him a quick shove. “Ya hear me?”

No one spoke as Daryl’s threat hung in the air before one of the dead hanging out of the window you’d escaped through let out a low moan.

It was time to go.

Michonne and Tyreese began climbing off of the walkway, staying hidden from the cluster of walkers still huddled on the opposite side. Daryl tucked Bob’s gun into the waistband of his jeans before motioning you forward. You side-stepped around Bob, who remained rooted in place, his eyes downcast in shame. 

When you got to the archer’s side, you glanced at him, seeing worry behind the detached facade he usually wore. You could tell he wanted to say something, but it seemed like he couldn’t find the right words — you wanted to reassure him you were fine but your voice was lost somewhere inside your chest.

So instead, you began maneuvering your way down the walkway. 

You let out a sigh of relief when your feet finally touched solid ground, still feeling shaky from what happened moments ago. You snuck around the side of the Veterinary College and met up with the others, Daryl and Bob following close behind. 

The group took off without another word, walking in silence, each lost in their thoughts. You were heading in the direction of the old factory building down the road — the minivan you’d found at the service station parked just outside.

When you felt a presence suddenly at your side, you didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“Ya alright?” came Daryl’s gruff voice, soft enough that only you could hear it.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye before focusing ahead. “I’m okay,” you nodded, kicking at a stray rock with the toe of your boot. “Thank you for — well — you know,” you trailed off, not needing to specify.

You’d be dead if it weren’t for him, plain and simple.

The archer merely grunted, never having been one to accept gratitude easily.

You looked at him once more. “Are you alright?” you asked pointedly — you were familiar with Daryl’s anger, his short-temper. It was a defining trait of his but back on the walkway…he’d almost lost control.

Daryl’s jaw tightened, like a fresh wave of fury washed over him. He shrugged a shoulder up, mumbling something under his breath. When you remained quiet, he peeked a look at you, regarding you seriously. “I would a’ killed him, ya know.”

Your footsteps faltered, the archer trailing to a stop beside you. The other’s slowed up ahead, only continuing when you motioned for them to carry on. You faced him head on then, concern evident in your features as he rubbed the back of his neck, albeit awkwardly, like he realized he said too much.

“Daryl —”

“S’ true,” he interrupted, his words carrying more conviction. “If you’d — if ya went over or —” he shook his head as though just the idea of it was too much to bear. “I would a’ killed him.”

A soft sigh slipped past your lips as you lowered your eyes. Part of you wished you disagreed, but an even bigger part of you understood where he was coming from — if you lost Daryl, if anything ever happened to him…you weren’t exactly sure what you’d do. 

You met his gaze. “I’m okay,” you reiterated, more gently this time.

Daryl studied your expression, something inscrutable flashing over his face before he ducked his head down, nodding once. “Good,” he murmured before looking up and flicking away the hair that fell over his face. “Let’s keep it tha’ way.”

You fought back the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth, standing up straight and mock-saluting him. “Sir, yes, sir.”

The archer snorted a breath, some of the tension he carried fading. “Smartass,” he rasped, though the flicker of amusement that flashed over his features sent your heart thrumming. “C’mon,” he reached out then and grabbed your shoulder, squeezing softly, before nudging you forward after the others.

You could’ve sworn you still felt his touch — long after he let go.

Fin.

A/N: Thank you for your patience, everyone! I know I haven't written for Daryl in a while - branching out into other fandoms (specifically Stranger Things!) has really helped me get back into the swing of writing. But even if I don't write for Daryl as much anymore, he still has a very special place in my heart (alongside Eddie Munson now because lawddddd have mercy)

Anywho, I hope you enjoyed this one! It was supposed to be a 200 word drabble but somehow transformed into a 2k word fic lol but I appreciate all of you!

P.S. Feedback is incredibly important. I write for my own happiness, but I also write for YOU. So don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask or leave a comment with your thoughts! It truly motivates me and helps move along the writing process. Also, please consider donating to my Tip Jar. Every little bit helps!

Daryl Tag List

@hope-walker @mundieoriley @cameronsails @sweatywildpanda @fuseburner @mikahowl @hanaissunshine @ellerelly @winchester-angel @death-becomes-her @angelwithglasswings @alwaysananglophile @just-always-tired @florqnces @unlockyourmind-wp @detectivejuliuspepperwood @whitexwingedxdoves @maybebetter @for-the-love-of-dean-and-daryl @sarahbaker2010 @dftblood @normansbabygirl

(I'm redoing my tag list so if you'd like to be added for notifications on future stories, please let me know!)

[crossbowking]

I read your Eddie fic last night and it's so so good! You wrote Eddie really well, and the whole thing is just super sweet and comforting from beginning to end. Thank you for writing it! <3

wow, thank you!! that’s so sweet of you to say, I really appreciate that! i’m such a sucker for some good ole fashioned fluff🥹❤️