#daryl dixon x black!reader

[tempobaekh]

A Love (Not) Torn Apart

pairings: daryl dixon x fem!reader (takes place in alexandria)

warnings: not much, fluff, crack, alcohol consumption, some shouting, maybe ooc daryl? the images at the top DO NOT indicate any physical appearance of the reader

a/n: i’ve been meaning to write something for this fine ass man for a while but I’ve been having a major writer block and busy with my junior hairdresser exam BUT i stumbled upon this post by @angelwings-crossbowstrings and i just had to turn it into a story. also i’ve been binge reading and rereading all of @dixons-sunshine works. she’s an amazing writing with enjoyable writing and also gave me some motivation to write something🤍 anyways this had me laughing at work and trying to write in-between customers💀

The sun had long dipped behind the walls of Alexandria, and the sky was an inky black, littered with stars.

You barely remember how it started. One minute, you were lounging on the couch, minding your own business and chatting with Carol after a particularly tough day in Alexandria. The next? Well, you were plastered—thanks to the moonshine Carol stashed away "for special occasions." She called this a special occasion because she was "bored," and apparently boredom justified cracking open a bottle. You didn’t argue. Why would you? It had been a rough week.

You should’ve known better. You’re not much of a drinker.

You have always had a low alcohol tolerance. When you got drunk, you would often do the most stupidly odd things.

Like the day you got shitfaced drunk and told Rick you could outshoot him blindfolded, almost shooting the man in the damn head. Or the day you insisted Daryl hand over your marriage papers so you could set it ablaze, saying, quote, 'Good luck returning me without the fucking receipt, Dixon!' Before collapsing into his embrace.

However, following Rick's incident, there was always a 10-foot radius check for weapons if you and a drink were present.

Now, you’re sitting in the middle of the living room floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Your hair is a wild mess—like, wilder than usual—and your hand clutches an old, tattered Polaroid picture of Daryl’s wife.

Except... you are Daryl’s wife.

 It was an old, weathered picture of you and Daryl taken back when things weren’t so apocalyptic. You looked happy in it—probably because there wasn’t a horde of walkers trying to eat you at the time. Your arm was looped around Daryl’s waist, and he had that rare, soft smile on his face. It was a picture you loved.

Right now, though? You hated it.

"She’s so pretty!" you wail, voice wobbling dramatically, holding up the photo to no one in particular. “How did he end up with someone so gorgeous?” Your head lolls back as you take another swig from the bottle of moonshine in your hand. “I’m never gonna be as good as her!"

Across the room, Carol watches from her seat with a mixture of amusement and concern, sipping from her own glass. She’s been trying to calm you down, but her efforts haven’t been successful. At this point, she’s just waiting for the storm to pass. Rick, however, looking for Daryl, steps through the door right at the pinnacle of your emotional breakdown.

“Carol,” Rick begins, eyeing your tear-streaked face and the empty bottle in your hand. “Why is Y/N cryin’?”

“She’s drunk,” Carol responds, deadpan, like that explains everything. Which, in all fairness, it kind of does.

Rick looks at you, then back at Carol, eyebrows raised. “And?”

Carol lets out a long breath, like she’s explained this one too many times. “She saw a picture of Daryl’s wife.”

Rick frowns in confusion, scratching the back of his head. "But… she is Daryl’s wife."

“I know,” Carol deadpans.

Rick shoots her an incredulous look. “She don’t realize that’s her?”

Carol just shrugs. "You ever try reasoning with a drunk person?"

Rick’s eyes narrow slightly as he processes the absurdity of the situation. “Where’s Daryl?”

Carol shakes her head, an amused grin tugging at the corners of her lips. “She kicked him out for cheatin’. He’s in the garage, waitin’ it out."

Rick looks like he’s about to say something, but instead, he just shakes his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a sigh and decides to approach you instead, “Y/N?”

You hear Rick’s voice, but you can’t bring yourself to respond. 

Rick’s footsteps draw closer, and you can see him out of the corner of your eye. He’s frowning, his brows pulling together in confusion. That’s the look. The ‘what the hell is going on’ look. You’ve seen it plenty of times before. He squats down in front of you, hands resting on his knees as he assesses the situation.

Your face screws up again, tears welling as you shove the bottle toward Rick in a grand gesture of misery. “He’s cheating on me!”

Rick recoils slightly, probably because your breath smells like a distillery at this point. “Uh... what?”

“He’s cheating!” you repeat, throwing your arms wide like this should be obvious to everyone around you. You wave the photo in the air dramatically, like you were presenting your case to the high court. “With some—some woman!”

Rick looks at Carol again, completely confused by how your drunken brain came up with this. Carol just shrugs, but there's a slight twitch in the corner of her mouth like she’s fighting a smile.

“Okay... slow down,” Rick says cautiously, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s good with walkers, not so good with drunk people. Especially drunk people who are screaming about imaginary affairs. “Who’s he cheating with?”

You look around conspiratorially before leaning in like you’re about to spill the world’s most scandalous secret. “His wife,” you whisper dramatically, as if that explains everything.

Rick’s brow furrows again. “But... you’re his wife.”

You nod enthusiastically, your head wobbling a little. “Exactly! He’s cheating on me with me!” You hiccup, your hand flying up to cover your mouth. The bottle dangles dangerously from your other hand. 

 You knew this day would come. It’s just like you always feared—Daryl’s finally realized he deserves better. Someone prettier, smarter, and far less dramatic than you. You’re sure of it. You pull the Polaroid close to your face and squint at it.

"Look at her," you sniffle, voice thick with drunken emotion. “Look at how flawless she is. He’s probably out there with her right now!" 

Rick and Carol share a look, clearly unsure of how to handle this. Carol steps forward, cautiously approaching you like you’re a wild animal. “Y/N,” she says softly, “honey, that’s… that’s a picture of you.”

You blink, turning the photo back toward you and studying it intensely, your brows furrowing in concentration. “What?”

“That’s you in the picture,” Carol repeats gently, trying not to laugh.

You frown deeply, staring at the woman in the photo. “No, it’s not!” you argue, shaking your head as if they’ve lost their minds. “I don’t look like this—she’s so beautiful!” You lean forward, grabbing Carol by the arm, eyes wide with desperation. “Carol, how could he do this to me?”

Carol struggles to keep her composure. “He didn’t do anything to you, Y/N. You’re drunk.”

You collapse back on the carpeted floor, letting out a fresh wave of sobs. “I’m gonna divorce him! And then—and then—he’ll regret it!” The words come out in a slurred mess, your anger morphing back into sadness almost instantly. “He doesn’t even care! I kicked him out and everything.”

Rick pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing like he’s aged a hundred years in the last five minutes. He turns to Carol. “Okay. Where did you say Daryl was?”

You choose to answer instead before Carol can speak. “Who cares?! He’s probably with her right now!” You hiccup again, and then your face scrunches up as if you’re about to cry harder. “I’m his wife, Rick! And he’s out there... with her! She’s... she’s prettier than me!”

Carol lets out a bark of laughter at that, and even Rick cracks a smile despite himself. “Y/N, you are his wife.”

“I know!” you sob, throwing your head back in despair. “It’s awful!”

Rick lets out another long-suffering sigh. “Alright. I’m gonna go find Daryl.”

“He’s in the garage.” Carol mutters, and decides to console your hysterical self for the tenth time while Rick brings in Daryl.

“He’s gonna have to crawl back to me on his knees.”

Carol pats your shoulder. “Oh, I’m sure he will.”

You sniffle, nodding. “He’s just…he’s a man. They do dumb things sometimes.”

Carol tries to keep a straight face, but the corners of her mouth twitch. “Right. Exactly.”

After what seems like hours but is really just a few minutes, you hear the familiar sound of the front door opening and closing, with Daryl and Rick returning inside. 

Carol managed to peel the bottle of moonshine from between your fingers and pull you over to the couch, so you're now slumped over on the couch with the bottle somewhere in the kitchen. Your eyes narrow when you see him, but you’re too tired—and too drunk—to get up.

When Carol sees Daryl and Rick arrive, she gives Daryl a nod and decides to call it a night, returning home and leaving you to Daryl. Rick also says a quick goodbye to Daryl before leaving you two to be.

“I’m still mad at you,” you mumble, crossing your arms over your chest and looking away.

Daryl crouches down infront of you, resting his arms on his knees. “I know.”

“I’m divorcing you.”

Daryl smirks, brushing some hair out of your face. “You’re not divorcin’ me.”

“Am too.”

“Nope.”

You let out a dramatic sigh and lean into his shoulder, tucking your face in his neck, too exhausted to fight anymore. “I hate that picture.”

Daryl chuckles, wrapping an arm around you as he pulls you to your feet. “Yeah, well, I ain’t too fond of it myself right’ now.” He helps you inside, your steps wobbly as you lean against him, your anger slowly dissolving into sleepy acceptance.

“I was just... so mad,” you mumble, your voice slurred as you nuzzle against his chest. “Didn’t mean to kick you out.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Daryl murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Still... divorcing you tomorrow.”

Daryl just shakes his head with a smile as he helps you up the stairs. “Sure you are, darlin’. Sure you are.”

Daryl walks you towards the bedroom with the patience of a saint, keeping an arm securely wrapped around your waist as your legs wobble like a newborn fawn. You’re still grumbling under your breath, your words slurred and barely coherent, but your determination to maintain your fury has not wavered. Not entirely.

“You didn’t even say sorry,” you mumble, leaning heavily against him as you stumble over the threshold. “Should make you sleep outside again.”

Daryl chuckles softly, his grip tightening just enough to keep you from tripping over the rug. “Yeah, I’ll make sure to apologize first thing in the mornin’, sweetheart. C’mon, let’s get you upstairs.”

“Nooo,” you protest, your feet dragging with exaggerated effort. “You gotta... gotta say it now. Or—divorce.” Your head wobbles dangerously as you point a finger at his chest, your attempt to look stern falling completely flat.

Daryl shakes his head with an amused smirk, scooping you up in his arms in one swift motion. “Ain’t divorcin’ me if you’re too drunk to remember how.”

You give a half-hearted squawk of protest, but the sound dissolves into a giggle as he carries you upstairs. “I can remember!” you declare, though you’re already nuzzling into the crook of his neck, the warmth of him seeping through your foggy brain. “Daryl Dixon... divorced... for bein’ a big, dumb... dumbass.”

He reaches the bedroom and gently deposits you on the bed. You flop back like a rag doll, limbs splayed out as if you’ve completely given up on the world. “That’s a real solid case you got there,” Daryl mutters, shaking his head in amusement as he reaches down to tug off your boots.

You wiggle your toes when your feet are freed, watching him with a lazy, half-lidded gaze. “Yup. Real solid,” you repeat, mimicking his accent with a sloppy grin. “I’m real smart, you know. Like... a genius.”

Daryl pulls a face like he’s seriously contemplating this. “A genius, huh?”

“Yup,” you confirm, clearly proud of yourself. “Genius. That’s why I’m divorcin’ you. ’Cause... geniuses don’t put up with cheaters.”

He snorts and moves to grab a glass of water from the bedside table, holding it out to you. “Here. Drink.”

You take the glass but make no move to actually drink from it, instead eyeing Daryl suspiciously. “What’s this?”

“It’s water.”

“Water?” You narrow your eyes like he’s trying to trick you. “What for?”

“To sober you up,” Daryl explains, deadpan. “So you can remember all this nonsense tomorrow.”

You stick out your lower lip in a pout but finally lift the glass to your lips, taking a tentative sip. You immediately make a face like it’s the most offensive thing you’ve ever tasted, pushing the glass back at him. “I don’t like it.”

Daryl chuckles again, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he takes the glass and sets it back on the table. “Ain’t supposed to like it. It’s just water.”

“Doesn’t taste like moonshine,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest as if this is some great injustice.

“Yeah, well, you ain’t gettin’ any more moonshine tonight,” Daryl says, his voice low and teasing as he crouches down to pull the covers over you. “Now, settle down.”

You huff, wriggling around as you try to find a comfortable position. “Still mad,” you mumble, though your words are getting softer, your body succumbing to the overwhelming need for sleep. “Divorce papers... in the mornin’.”

Daryl lets out a soft chuckle, lying down next to you and pulling you into his chest. “Sure thing, darlin’. I’ll be waitin’ for ‘em.”

You curl up against him, burying your face in his chest with a content sigh despite your earlier threats. “Better be sorry,” you mumble one last time, already drifting off into a heavy, alcohol-induced sleep.

“Real sorry,” Daryl mutters, his lips brushing against your hair. “Real sorry for marryin’ such a stubborn little thing.”

The next morning hits like a freight train.

Your eyelids flutter open, and the sunlight streaming through the window feels like it’s stabbing directly into your skull. With a groan, you roll over and immediately regret it. Your head throbs, your mouth is drier than the Sahara desert, and your entire body feels like it’s been dragged through a pit of walkers. Twice.

“Oh my God,” you croak, pressing a hand to your forehead. “Never drinking again. Ever.”

From beside you, Daryl lets out a quiet laugh. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”

You crack one eye open, glaring at him through the blinding light. “I’m serious.”

“Mhm.” He’s sitting up on his elbow, watching you with an infuriating smirk. “You said the same thing last time you drank, too. After you told Rick you could outshoot him blindfolded.”

You groan again, dragging a pillow over your face. “Please tell me I didn’t do anything stupid last night.”

“Oh, nothin’ too stupid,” Daryl says casually, but you can hear the laughter in his voice. “Just threatened to divorce me. You know, normal stuff.”

You freeze under the pillow, a wave of embarrassment washing over you. Slowly, you pull the pillow down just enough to peek out at him. “...What?”

“Yup,” Daryl confirms with a smug grin. “Kicked me out of the house for ‘cheatin’ on you’ with yourself.”

You groan again, throwing the pillow at his face with all the energy you can muster. “Oh my God, shut up.”

He catches the pillow easily, laughing as he sets it aside. “Ain’t lettin’ you live that one down, sweetheart.”

You cover your face with your hands, mortified. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“Nope,” Daryl says with a pop of the ‘p,’ clearly enjoying your misery. “Carol and Rick were real concerned. Thought they’d have to draw up them divorce papers right then and there.”

You peek out from between your fingers, narrowing your eyes at him. “I hate you.”

He leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead with that same infuriating smirk. “Love you too.”

You try to scowl at him, but it’s hard to stay mad when he’s looking at you like that. Still, you groan and roll over, burying your face in the pillow again. “I’m never drinking again,” you mutter into the fabric.

Daryl chuckles, lying back down beside you and pulling you into his arms. “Sure you aren’t, darlin’. Sure you aren’t.”

Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback and reblog is appreciated.<3

[solitaryearthperson]

They’re okay

Summary: Instead of being greeted by the reader, Daryl is only greeted with silence.

(The reader is 18+ and uses they/them pronouns. The ethnicity/race is preferably black.)

“(Y/N),” Daryl yelled your name, as he came through the door. Shit, he thought, feeling a corner of the crossbow digging into his back. He quickly deposited it onto the floor then closed the door behind him.

Walking into the foyer he looked around and frowned at the silence of the house, not having been used to it in a long time.

“(Y/N)!” he yelled again, waiting to hear the scurry of your feet hurrying to greet him with a hug and a kiss, but was sadly disappointed again.

The hell are they, he wondered, walking into the kitchen. He was about to open a cabinet and fix him a plate of food, when he noticed the mess on top of the counter and stopped, what he saw almost making his heart stop. A cutting board with chopped bell peppers, garlic, and almost finished chopped onions was sitting on the counter and next to it was a knife. He knew his (Y/N), and he knew they were a bit of a neat freak and would never leave a mess like this on the counter, usually scolding him for doing something similar. Taking a small step closer to the counter, he squinted his eyes at the blade of the knife, hoping that what he was seeing wasn't there, that he was mistaken, but he was indeed right. On the knife was blood.

“No,” he muttered to himself, feeling his chest beginning to tighten at the possibility of what that blood meant. They could be alright, he mentally told himself, placing his hand on his chest, rubbing where his heart was, hoping the action would comfort him. There's nothing wrong with them. I just have to find them. Against his control, images of lost lives began flashing through his mind. Carol’s daughter, Sofia, as a walker. Merle as a walker. Beth’s dead body. The images kept appearing behind his eyes like a projector and he could feel the tightening in his chest getting worse with each one.

“(Y/N),” he yelled again. Still no answer. He then thought of someone else, someone who he knew would answer him without hesitation. “Dog!” Surprisingly there was no answer to that either.

“Shit, shit, shit!” he mumbled, hurrying out of the kitchen and going to the front door, picking up his crossbow from the floor. He was slinging it back on his back and ready to open the door, when he heard something that made the tightening in his chest loosen instantly.

“Daryl!”

“(Y/N),” he yelled back, throwing the crossbow back on the floor, before hurrying to where he heard their voice. “(Y/N)! Dog!”

A loud bark answered him back, and he followed the sound, quickening his pace to find them both in the backyard, the backdoor slightly ajar.

“Daryl, hey! When’d you get back,” (Y/N) asked. “Me and Dog didn’t hear you.”

Dog quickly greeted him with a wide smile and wagging tail, jumping on him with glee. Catching him, Daryl scratched the excited dog behind his ears and rubbed down his back, happy to feel its fur beneath his fingers and see the animal happy and healthy.

They’re okay, he told himself, looking at (Y/N). He didn’t see any serious injuries on their body, no limping, and no wincing. Running his eyes down their body, his eyes caught the sight of a bandage wrapped around their right hand, with a little blood seeping through.

“Yer hand,” Daryl nodded towards it.

"Oh," they looked down, noticing their blood through the bandage. "The smell of the onions were so strong that my eyes were starting to water and I accidentally cut my hand."

"Why were ya out here?" He let go of Dog and walked over to them, gently taking their hand in his.

"The smell was so strong," (Y/N) repeated, "I went outside to get away from it."

They're okay, he repeated, feeling a weight being lifted off of his chest. The bloody images of fallen friends and family were no longer appearing to him. The only thing he saw now was his love and his dog both safe and sound.

"Daryl-"

Daryl cut them off pulling them to his body and wrapping his arms tightly around their body, nestling his head into the side of their neck, breathing in their scent.

"Daryl, are you okay?" (Y/N) asked, their voice muffled by his shoulder.

They’re okay. Everybody's alive. Everybody's okay. He breathed in their scent one more time before answering, "I'm fine." His mind at ease once more in the arms of his love.

[makedatmoneymayne]

✨TWD:Can't get enough✨

-------------------------------------------

Daryl Dixon x Black female reader(Quenelle or Nells)

~~This story is based for black women BUT anyone is welcome~~

Explanation: Quenelle is Michonne's little sister by one year. They both lost their friend Andrea to The Governor's shitty town. Rick and Michonne are FINALLY together but as time goes by, Daryl seems to have taken an odd liking to Nells and maybe so has she.

~~Sorry for any mistakes~~

Warning: Public smut, Killing, Fluff, Cursing, getting caught

---------------------------------------------------------

"Daryl I told you I had that group of walkers!" Quenelle yelled winded because she ran for no reason.

Daryl grabbed the last of his arrows back from the walkers' heads, giving her a once over before walking into the deserted building. Michonne made her way to her frustrated sister, rubbing her back so she can continue into the place with Rick and Daryl.

"Yeah he for sure likes you girl." Michonne laughs trying to get her words out, which made Nells even more frustrated.

Michonne and Rick both know that Daryl has taken a liking in Quenelle. From the way he puts himself in front of her in every situation, the way he actually speaks caring to her, to the way he has spoken up for her ever since the governor/Phillip. Michonne has blatantly told her sister MANY times he likes her, but she just can't believe it. Don't get her wrong, he IS hot as hell but she just can't believe Daryl likes her romantically at all.

-----------------------------------------

Before Nells stormed into the place, Rick gave Daryl a smirk. Which caused Daryl to make a confused like face.

"The hell are you smiling about?" Daryl said in his usually low gritty tone.

"You like her dontchu?" Rick started off his sentence with a breathy laugh.

"Shut the hell up." Daryl tried to make a disgusted face but just couldn't he was right, she was fucking beautiful.

Daryl turned around to open a door thinking about Quenelle now. Walkers burst out the door in front of him, ready to eat. Daryl began to aim, but in the blink of an eye all the walkers were dead and Quenelle was getting back up. While she was in that squat position, he couldn't help but give her very curvy body and her delicious darker toned skin a once over, shallowly biting his lip. While she was yelling in his face he was mesmerized by every angry feature, especially her glossy lips. He actually found that gloss for her in an abandoned liquor store.

Within the few days of Michonne and Quenelle's first arrival, Daryl remembered hearing her mention how much she missed lip gloss to Carol. Ever since then he's been so glad he found it for her.

-----------------------------------------

Quenelle stormed off straight to Daryl's taken area where he's taking out zombie after zombie, to finish what he started like how he did to her.

When she hit his last zombie with her machete, she stood up from the ground to get in his face.

"How does that feel, DARYL!" She yelled slightly silent so no more walkers come to them. While she's yelling she notices Daryl glancing down at her lips.

Before she could ask, Daryl grabbed her arm and yanked her out the building into a secluded area on the side of the building.

"What are you doi-" She was cut off mid silent yell with Daryl's lips and his hands stroking her cheeks.

It was a quick peck, nothing more but he was still caressing her face, him looking down at the ground now. In an instant Quenelle lifted his head to make him look into her eyes.

"Michonne was right." She let out a breath of relief before kissing him again. This one a little more heated. They were breathing heavily into the kiss, Nells then added her tongue turning it into a nasty make out session. The two were damn near swapping saliva like swapping war stories.

Daryl's pants were getting tighter and tighter due to his hard on, he had to act now. He grabbed Quenelle's leg, putting it over the bend of his arm to get closer. Nells held him closer, taking the time to kiss him from his salt and pepper stubble to his slightly sweaty neck. With his hand still holding up her leg and his other hand gripping her ass, he sighed into her shoulder feeling her kisses and nibbles on his neck.

"You feel so good." Daryl whispered now rubbing his hard on against her clothed clit against the wall of the store. It was rushed, he just needed to feel her on him for the first time.

They looked into each other's eyes breathing simultaneously.

"I'm gonna cum already for you Daryl." Nells moaned making him begin to rut into her faster not know he was nearing his end also.

"Cum for me please baby." He sounded desperate like he was begging. With that being said she took in the sharpest breath and when he noticed she was going to scream and covered her mouth with the hand that was just gripping her ass. When he felt like he was gonna moan loud he then put his own mouth on his hand too. They came together, Nells feeling the warmth of Daryl's cum and Daryl's sigh of completion. When Daryl moved his hand they began smiling at each other.

What they didn't know was that Michonne and Rick finished grabbing the food and supplies out the place, put it in the van, and hopped into the van thinking they were arguing like how they usually did. But when they drove down the alley way they saw you two a little too close together.

"Aye, you kids done?" Rick waited until you both were done.

"We literally have a whole van guys." Michonne mentioned with a laugh.

Daryl and Quenelle scrambled to the van without a word grabbing all their weapons from the floor that they dropped.

Once they were both in the back of the van, Rick had to ask a question.

"You guys had fun?" Rick said looking into the rear view mirror, making Michonne laugh.

"I don't know what you're talkin about." Daryl said lowly not giving you a glance but grabbing your hand, waiting for you to reciprocate the cute gesture.

"Yeah I don't know either." Quenelle shrugged her shoulders before grabbing his hand back.

Rick shook his head before driving off back to Alexandria.

-----------------------------------------

The End

Hope you all enjoy, Daryl's a cutie.

-------

[yourlastbraincell-kiwi]

A/N: I had a prompt for this particular story.

Prompt: I don’t wanna die.

——————🧟‍♀️——————

"I...I don't wanna die.."

"Yer' not gonna die, you 'ear me?"

"Please don't let it take me." I said not exactly sure what 'it' meant, but given the circumstances it was either the virus from the bite or the light.

Which ever came faster that is.

"I won't." He exclaimed, practically growled at me, looking me in the eyes. The eyes that usually showed little to no emotion, had tears brimming in the corners of his eyes.

Daryl wouldn’t cry in front of everyone scared to show any signs of weakness, but in front of me and he’d do anything.

Even if that means shedding a tear or two.

"Where was she bit?" Everyone looked at me for confirmation, but all I can do was choke out one word.

“Neck..” They looked at Hershel and he sided, shaking his head 'no.' Lord, if that only hadn't made you sob harder.

"What do you mean 'no?' I don't- I can’t lose her to one of those bastards. Now, if you don't do something right now, I swear to god I will shoot you dead right now."

Daryl threatened, griping onto Hershel’s shirt, and Rick grabbed him roughly, moving him away from Hershel.

"I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do. But she has two choices." He didn't need to say it, in order for us to know what they where, we had already gone through it with Jim.

"I don't want to go, but Daryl," He grabbed my hand tightly, putting a hand on my cheek. "It hurts, it's hurt so much." I said taking in so many breaths of air, as if it'll patch up the wound, get rid of the virus, and make me immune.

If only life had worked that way..

But this is how it ended. This is how it ended for you. This is your stop, if you could turn the metaphorical car around and turn back time, you would.

God, you would do it with so much quickness, you'd have lost control of the wheel.

But it was time for you to say your 'goodbyes.’

Ready or not.

It was time to go to sleep..

[flor4de4amor]

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬

read before engaging with my work + acc

enjoy your reading!

abby anderson master list

daryl dixon master list

[flow33didontsmoke]

when y/n does something so bad/embarrassing you have to facepalm and close your eyes for a minute

[shoot1ngst4r]

going out of your way to search up [insert character] ANGST and all you get is smut

[natti-ice]

every time i remember my favorite person isn’t real

[cinnamoodles]

smut is great but do you know what’s better? heart wrenching, soul twisting angst that makes you want to cry (take my money)

[realangelahernandez]

I’m so sad… time for an x reader fan fiction

[urlocalsabito]

Me when the only fics of my fav character are smuts..or there just isn’t any fics

[tempobaekh]

Cheater!

pairings: daryl dixon x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, crack, chaos, yelling?, alcohol consumption

a/n: i saw this one video on tiktok this one and IT SOUNDS SO ACCURATE TO MAGGIE and i feel like she is the veryyy competitive type with underlying anger issues when it comes to board games LMAOOOO so i had to quickly write this before i lose motivation

The night air in Alexandria was cool, the gentle hum of distant cicadas blending with the occasional burst of laughter from inside your house.

Inside, the hum of laughter and the faint clink of glass echoed in your small Alexandria house as the six of you sat around the table. A half-empty bottle of whiskey stood proudly in the middle, surrounded by empty shot glasses, bowls of whatever slightly stale snacks you’d scavenged, and a stack of worn board games you’d brought back from the latest supply run.

After stumbling upon the box of board games on a supply run, you’d insisted on a game night.

The night had started innocently enough—Rick had vetoed Twister (his knee couldn’t handle it), Glenn had no clue how to play Scrabble, and Michonne had made it abundantly clear that Risk wasn’t an option. But when you and Carol suggested UNO, everyone agreed instantly.

The game started off simple enough. Glenn was the first to suffer Maggie’s wrath, groaning loudly when she dropped a Wild Draw Four on him.

“Seriously?” Glenn whined, stacking cards in his hand. “How do you have three of these?”

Maggie shrugged innocently, though the smug smile on her face was far from innocent.

Rick and Michonne exchanged knowing looks, already predicting Maggie’s reign of terror. Carol, sitting on your left, shook her head with a soft chuckle. “Don’t let her fool you, Glenn,” she said, her voice teasing. “She’s always had that sweet, innocent act down to an art.”

But to everyone’s surprise, Daryl was catching on—and fast.

A few rounds in, the tension was palpable. Maggie had two cards left, Glenn was drowning in a sea of colors, since she had won this round first, Carol relaxed and took a sip of her drink, and Rick was down to his last card, eyeing everyone suspiciously. Michonne was unnervingly calm, while you kept trying to suppress your giggles as Daryl muttered curses under his breath whenever the game turned against him.

Your boyfriend had been hesitant to play at first, grumbling about how he didn’t grow up playing games and didn’t see the point. But after a quick explanation of the rules and a few drinks, he’d started to get the hang of it, though his stubbornness and blunt demeanor didn’t make him the easiest player to deal with.

But again, he was getting the rhythm of the game.

“Daryl, your turn,” you said, nudging him.

He flicked through his cards, pausing dramatically before slapping down a Reverse card.

Rick groaned. “You serious, man? I was about to win!”

“That’s the point,” Daryl replied with a small, satisfied smirk.

Maggie narrowed her eyes. “You’re gettin’ too good at this, Dixon.”

“I’m just playin’ the game,” he shot back, shrugging.

You leaned over and whispered in his ear, “You’re doing great, babe.”

He grunted, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Carol chuckled softly beside you, her tone was full of sarcasm as she spoke to Daryl. “Looks like you’ve got some hidden talents, Dixon. Who knew?”

“Shut it,” Daryl muttered, though his lips twitched upward.

Now, a few rounds into the game, you were well past "simple" at this point. The table was littered with half-eaten pretzels, discarded cards, and a growing storm of drunken competitiveness. Maggie had turned out to be surprisingly vicious—who knew such a sweet, Southern farm girl could have such a cutthroat streak?

Right now everyone in the room was watching an actual showdown between Maggie and Daryl over one particularly heated round.

“Alright,” Maggie drawled, narrowing her eyes at Daryl. She had just played a Draw Four card, and he was staring at his cards like they’d personally offended him. “Your turn, Dixon.”

Daryl glared at his hand, chewing on his bottom lip. “Ain’t got nothin’,” he grumbled, drawing from the deck. He was sitting slightly hunched over, his shaggy hair casting shadows over his intense blue eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” Maggie said smugly. “Two cards left for me. Better luck next time, boys and girls.”

You leaned back, sipping your drink, enjoying the sight of your man starting to get fired up.

“Oh yeah?” Daryl suddenly said, slapping a red card on the pile with a little too much gusto. “There. Done.”

Maggie blinked at him. “Wait. Did you—did you just put your second-to-last card down?”

“Yeah,” Daryl said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Maggie’s Southern accent sharpened in frustration as she threw her hands up. “You cheatin’ son of a bitch! You’re supposed to say ‘UNO’ when you only got one card left!” she bellowed.

That got everyone’s attention. Glenn choked on his drink, Rick coughed into his hand to cover a laugh, and Michonne leaned back, shaking her head in disbelief. You slapped a hand over your mouth, trying desperately to stifle your giggles.

Carol, calmly munching on a pretzel, raised an eyebrow. “She’s not wrong, Daryl,” she chimed in, her tone light.

Daryl blinked at Carol then turned to Maggie and shrugged. “I said one.”

“You’re supposed to say UNO,” Maggie hissed, jabbing a finger toward him, her cheeks flushed. “It’s a Mexican game!”

Daryl squinted at Maggie, clearly trying to decide whether she was messing with him. "What the hell’s bein’ Mexican got to do with it? I said it!"

Carol smirked at the exchange, leaning toward you. “Think we should step in?” she whispered.

“Absolutely not,” you replied, grinning. “This is gold.”

The argument continued for another solid two minutes before Michonne finally intervened, smirking as she threw down a Reverse card. “You know what? Let’s settle this the old-fashioned way—Daryl gets two penalty cards, and Maggie has to sit out a turn for yelling.”

“Fair!” you said, trying to stifle your giggles.

Carol nodded sagely. “Sounds like justice to me.”

“Fine,” Maggie grumbled, crossing her arms as she leaned back in her chair.

“Whatever,” Daryl muttered, snatching his penalty cards and glaring at the table. But you caught the tiny, satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth—he knew he’d gotten under Maggie’s skin, and he was damn proud of it.

"Daryl Dixon, you’re the worst UNO player I’ve ever met," Maggie finally said.

"And you’re the loudest," he grumbled, glaring at her before throwing a wild card onto the pile. "Red."

As the game resumed, you leaned over and nudged him with your elbow. “Hey, Uno champ,” you whispered, grinning. “You’re lucky I am here, or Maggie might’ve actually decked you.”

Daryl gave you a side glance, his lips twitching into a small smirk. “Ain’t scared of her.”

“Sure you’re not,” you teased, watching as he focused back on his cards.

Carol laughed from her spot, shaking her head and whispering to you. “Honestly, I think Maggie was about three seconds away from throwing that deck at his face."

As the next round began, the tension dissipated, though Maggie was clearly watching Daryl like a hawk. Every time he picked up a card or played one, she muttered under her breath, and you swore he started intentionally dragging it out just to rile her up.

The last round of the game had devolved into absolute chaos, and you were pretty sure no one had played by the rules for at least three rounds. By the time the game finally ended, Rick was cuddling Michonne in the corner, while she had claimed victory, Carol began cleaning up the card, and Glenn and Maggie were bickering over who had drunk the last of the whiskey. 

After a while of just talking and joking, the others decided to call it a night and began bidding you and Daryl good night and heading out the door. 

After everyone had departed, you and Daryl started cleaning, albeit his movements were a little slower than usual because of the alcohol.

"You really did good tonight," you teased, stacking the cards into their box.

"Good?" he muttered, raising an eyebrow. "I kicked her ass."

You laughed, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Sure you did, Dixon. Sure you did."

Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback and reblog is appreciated.<3

[solitaryearthperson]

Clueless

Summary: Daryl is clueless to the reader's crush on him.

(The reader is gender-neutral and uses they/them pronouns. The ethnicity/race is preferably black/person of color.)

(Y/EC) = Your Eye Color

While Carol continued to pull out more vegetables from her garden, she couldn't help the amused grin that grew on her face as she looked over towards (Y/N)'s house and watched Daryl and (Y/N) talk to each other. He was working hard, on his knees, fixing their motorcycle, while they were kneeling next to him, talking to him about their day. The sight of the two reminded her of two lovesick kids. Except one kid was helplessly in love while the other was absolutely clueless.

"Hey Carol," Rosita greeted Carol, interrupting her watching. Leaving her home, she came walking over to the garden, gently rocking Coco in her arms, and softly cooing to the baby. "What's up with you?"

"Daryl," Carol replied, nodding her towards (Y/N)'s house.

"He's over there again," Rosita asked, surprised to see the quiet archer meeting and talking to someone other than Carol so much. "He's been visiting them a lot."

"Yep. Apparently their bike's messing up again."

"Again," Rosita replied, her brows raised in doubt. "That's like the fifth time this month, right?"

Carol nodded her head in silence as she pulled a carrot out of the ground and placed it in the basket next to her, already knowing the question that Rosita was probably going to say next. She had thought of it as well when hearing about (Y/N)'s supposed bike troubles.

"Don't they have a garage full of tools and shit?"

"Yep."

"And didn't they come here on that bike?"

Not exactly brand new to Alexandria, (Y/N) had found the peaceful community only a few months back. Showing up in dirty, rugged clothing, Rick and the others quickly cleaned them up and helped find them a home to stay in and a way to contribute to the community.

"Yep," Carol replied again, looking back over to the two and watching as they both began laughing at something, their bodies so close, their shoulders were almost touching.

"He's completely clueless, isn't he?"

"Pretty much."

Completely clueless, Carol sighed, picking up her now full basket and nodding her head towards her door, inviting Rosita and Coco inside.

~

"What was wrong this time," Carol asked him, as soon as he walked through the door. Hearing her voice, but not seeing her, he followed where it came from and found her at the counter making sandwiches, Rosita already sitting in a chair close to it and Coco sitting on the countertop, held up by her mother.

"Uh, their engine was making a weird noise and the throttle was messed up." He sat down in a chair next to Rosita and quickly snatched up an already finished sandwich, biting into it hungrily.

"Mm-hmm," Carol hummed, her grin growing at the sight of the archer's cheeks beginning to turn red at the topic of you.

Rosita noticed as well, but chose to hide it, instead continuing to play with Coco.

"What was the problem last time with their bike," Carol asked, her voice giving away some of her amusement at him.

Daryl noticed the change in her voice and furrowed his brows, deciding to ignore it for now and answer her question.

"Their brakes were actin' up," he answered, finishing his sandwich and picking up another one.

"Mm-hmm," Rosita hummed next to him, nodding her head.

At her hum, Daryl looked toward her and found a small grin appearing on her face, similar to Carol's grin. Tha hell they're up to, He wondered, frowning at them. "What," he asked.

"What what," Rosita, asked, her voice full of amusement and her grin growing into a smile.

"Whatcha smiling for," he asked, moving his eyes to both of them.

Placing the knife in her hand on the counter, Carol let out a sigh and told him "You don't think it's weird that they keep having these bike problems?"

He knew it was weird every time he heard a new problem appear, but didn't really care that much, just as long as he could go to their house, speak to them, eat with them, and just be in their presence.

"Yeah, so," he replied, nodding his head, squinting his eyes at them both in suspicion.

"How come they only want you," Rosita asked, pointing at him, to get the point across to him, "to help fix their bike? No one else here."

Letting out a sigh, he finished his sandwich, picked up another then left to go to his room, not wanting to hear anymore of what Rosita and Carol were telling him. He knew what they were getting at, but he had a hard time believing it.

Why me, he wondered. There were plenty of other people who could be there for them. Why the redneck archer who barely talks to anyone? Laying his head down, and biting into his second sandwich, he let his thoughts of (Y/N) run through his head, trying to ignore the blush that came to his face at each memory of them standing close to each other, faces almost touching, sharing food together, laughing at each other's jokes.

Shit, he realized. What Carol and Rosita said were now stuck in his head, and he knew that he'd have to confront (Y/N) about it. He wouldn't be able to be around them without asking. Just to prove them wrong.

~

You had just gotten through picking out the outfit you were going to wear for Daryl, hoping to see his usual shy blush appear on his face, when you heard three loud knocks on your front door.

Huh, he's early, you thought. Usually you were the one who went to him with another request to fix your bike, and it was never this early. You knew sometimes he would leave early in the morning to see if he could catch something quick from outside the gates and didn't want to bother him before he left. Not that you watched him that much to pick up his daily schedule.

I didn't even get to make any food for him, you thought as you walked to the door, and opened it.

Like every other day, he stood on the other side of the door in his usual dark clothing, with his hair almost reaching past his big, broad shoulders in shaggy (probably unwashed) tresses. Even though he always looked like this, it still made you nervous and you had to take a breath before opening your mouth and hoped not to embarrass yourself.

"Hey Daryl," you greeted him, feeling your heart beat faster in his presence. "You're here early. Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said, lowering his head in his usual shy manner. Just fucking do it, he told himself, lifting his head back up and looked at your face, his heart beating faster as he met your (Y/EC) gaze. "Can I come inside?"

"Yeah, sure." You stepped to the side and let him walk in and pass you. He's been here enough times to know your home as if he lived here himself and went straight to your garage.

Curious you followed after him, wondering what it was that he wanted to talk to you about. Yesterday he had fixed the throttle and the engine, and you hadn't gotten the chance to make up another excuse to get him over.

Entering the garage, you found him walking around the motorcycle, his head tilting slightly and bending his knees a little to get a closer look at each part of it.

Maybe he's making sure everything's alright, you guessed. "Daryl," you called his name.

He didn't answer you, but he stopped walking and turned to you, his blue eyes intense.

"Is everything okay," you asked.

"Um,..." he started lowering his head again, trying to keep you from seeing the blush that he was sure was growing on his cheeks. "You been lying 'bout yer bike?"

Shit, you thought. He figured it out. Should I lie? Tell the truth? "Um, what're you talking about?"

He squinted his eyes at you in that familiar way that let you know that he knew you were pretending before answering. "You know what I'm talking 'bout."

"Daryl, I-"

"You been messing with yer bike, so I could come here. Right?"

You opened your mouth to say something but you couldn't find the right words to say that would make up for the time of his you've wasted, having him work on the bike that you messed up on purpose.

Looking at you trying to speak but can't, he couldn't believe it. He wasn't exactly mad about you for lying, but more surprised that you would go through that trouble to get him to your place.

"Why?"

"Um... I like you and I didn't know how to tell you or talk to you." You hoped he would understand and not find you crazy. "I wasn't sure how to approach you and I noticed you always working on your bike and I thought maybe a perfect way to get to talk to you was if mine was broken, but it wasn't, so I-" you stopped rambling, noticing his silence, and saw that he was looking at you with an unreadable expression. "Daryl?"

"You did it cuz you like me," he asked, making sure he was hearing you right.

"Yeah, basically," you said, hoping you didn't ruin your friendship and what could be a potential relationship with him. "Are you mad?"

He instantly shook his head and that made the weight that had begun to weigh upon your chest disappear.

"But don't mess up yer bike no more. Okay?" He told you with a smile that was rare to see from him unless you were close to him.

"Okay."

You didn't know what to say and was about to go back inside and offer him food as a form of apology, but he had a better idea instead.

"I'm 'bout to go hunting real quick. You wanna come?" He tried to ignore the racing of his heart and waited for your answer, hoping you would accept his invitation.

"Um, I don't know how to skin or gut."

"I'll teach you," he quickly said, hoping he didn't sound desperate.

You tried to hold back the wide smile that wanted to appear on your face and said, "Sure."

~

Carol had just taken down one of the sheets that was hanging on the line, folding it and putting it in her basket, when she heard the familiar loud rumble of Daryl's motorcycle, and she looked up to see him driving toward the gates. She was about to go back and pull another sheet down, when she noticed riding on the back of the bike was you, and you had your arms wrapped around his waist, and a proud grin grew on her face at the sight, happy that her friend was no longer clueless.

[etclouie-masterlists]

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 kinktober masterlist

ཐི♡ཋྀ welcome to my first kinktober, i’m lowk really nervous for this, so be kind please. please read all the warnings posted on each fic, they're all listed, and if anythings missing lmk! all works are fem reader

ཐི♡ཋྀ prompts used from this post, full credit to them for all prompts used

ཐི♡ཋྀ all work on @etclouie and can be found under #ᯓ⭒ louie’s kinktober ’24 .ᐟ

ཐི♡ཋྀ candy divider used in each post is by @strangergraphics

go to main masterlist?

day one; overstimulation - Glenn Rhee

day two; praise kink - Alex Keller

day three; car sex - Abraham Ford

day four; creampie - Soap MacTavish

day five; begging - Shane Walsh

day six; cockwarming - Sirius Black

day seven; size kink - Simon Riley

day eight; jealousy - Rick Grimes

day nine; breeding kink - Oscar 'Spooky' Diaz

day ten; dirty talk - Shane Walsh

day eleven; choking - Negan Smith

day twelve; oral sex - Juice Ortiz

day thirteen; mirror sex - Soap MacTavish

day fourteen; thigh riding - Spencer Reid

day fifteen; first time - Chibs Telford

day sixteen; shower sex - Derek Morgan

day seventeen; office sex - Aaron Hotchner

day eighteen; late night sex - Jax Teller

day nineteen; outdoor sex - Daryl Dixon

day twenty; sugar daddy - John Price

day twenty-one; one night stand - James Potter

day twenty-two; sex on film - Kyle Garrick

day twenty-three; pillow talk - Jax Teller

day twenty-four; mask sex - Simon Riley

day twenty-five; uniform sex - Shane Walsh and Rick Grimes

day twenty-six; nudes - Chibs Telford

day twenty-seven; spanking - Negan Smith

day twenty-eight; early morning sex - Daryl Dixon

day twenty-nine; secret relationship sex - Merle Dixon

day thirty; handcuffs - Luke Alvez

day thirty-one; friends with benefits - Jax Teller

reblogs are highly appreciated !

[yourlastbraincell-kiwi]

“I’ll Teach You.”

A/N: This story is about to the reader teaching Daryl how to braid hair! Hope you like it! ❤️

Pairing: Daryl x Reader

~~~~~

It was a slow day today. There hasn’t been much to do, not even all that many walkers trying to get in. It’s almost like the walkers had chosen to take the day off.

It was unusual for us to have an off day, but we definitely weren’t going to waste this chance to relax and unwind.

Daryl and I laid in bed, his head on my chest, my chin resting on top of his head. Neither of us could sleep, so I needed to do something to keep myself entertained.

I started playing with Daryl’s hair.

I was messing around with Daryl’s long locks of dark colored hair, and that slowly evolved into me braiding, a couple small braids into his hair. It wouldn’t last long enough for anyone to see since I’d run my fingers through them and smoothing out his hair.

I did this plenty of times and one day he asked me the age old question, “What are you doing back there?”

“Braiding your hair.” I smiled leaning down to plant a kiss to his forehead.

“Why?”

“Because I like messing with this hair of yours.” I admit running my fingers through his hair, causing him to hiss as it got caught on some knots embedded in his hair. “Sorry.”

“You keep messin’ with it this much, I’mma cut it.” He says and I playfully hit his shoulder.

I knew Daryl was just saying it as a joke, but instead of it stopping me, it only encourages me to keep doing it.

I like it. Daryl likes it. If he didn’t he be up in a heartbeat.

He also knows I mean no hair to him or his hair, this is one of the many ways I show affection.

My eyes go wide when I think of the best idea yet, and I look down at him, a mischievous grin plastered atop of my face. “What’er ya up to this time?”

“I was thinking, I could teach you to braid hair.” I said, and Daryl starts shaking his head, as he sat up straight. “Come on! It’d be fun.”

“Yeah, for you maybe.”

“Come on, you know you want too…”

“What would I even do wit’ it? Zombies ain’t got no hair.” Daryl said and causing a laugh to erupt from me. I then pointed over at little Judith playing around with Michonne.

If there’s anything he cared about more than anything, it’s that sweet little girl. And he’d do anything for her, and I loved and admired that for him.

“A’right. Come on.” I smiled and hugged him, and that’s when I taught him how to successfully braid someone’s hair.

——————

I smile and watched as Daryl tried his hand at braids Judith’s hair. After teaching him how, I’d catch him repeating the steps to doing it to himself, even when he’s braiding.

If he’s not murmuring it to himself then he’s repeating it in his mind.

He wants this to be perfect, and I adore his dedication to learning it.

I watch as he gently parts the center of her hair, and takes the hair in his hand and separates it in three sections.

Slowly intertwining the sections of hair along the side of her head, bringing it downwards, and then gently tying it off with a rubber band then a sunflower hair clip.

He then did the same to the other side, giving Judith a little tap on the shoulder letting her know he was finished. She thanked him with a huge smile and even bigger hug, before leaving to show off her new hairstyle.

“Looks like we have a natural-born braider of hair over here.” I grin and he nudges me in the side.

“But really though, that was really good. You are truly gifted with everything you do.”

“What’re ya tryna butter me up or somethin’?” He said and I give him a look.

“Well… now that you mention it..” He shakes his head, knowing exactly what I was going to ask.

“Come on, just this once? I’ll never ask again.” He gives me a look, knowing good and well, I’m going to forget and ask him again at a different point in time. “Whatever! Just- please?”

He sighs finally agreeing, and I hug him and sat down in the chair, letting the master do his work.

[sleepyangelkami]

I'm posting this from my phone so please bare with me guys.

"ew, you write y/n as a baby."

okay, so. I understand that the way I write might not float everyone's boat which is so okay !! But yk what you could do...? Scroll !! There's no need to hate. I really apologize if the way I've written my readers in x reader fics is harmful in any way. However, I'm not going to stop making the character they're with baby them and look after them. The beauty in all of this is that none of it is real. Life can be hard and life can be way toooo much and at the end of the day you might js wanna read ab getting babied. People baby their partners all the time whether you're male female any other gender none of this matters. I write female y/n and if you have a problem with the characters babying her but at the same time you're posting matt sturniolo (I apologize if I spelled that wrong) and saying omg cutie baby 🥺🥺 it's the same thing !!! It's so normal and people are making it weird. If you want to read badass!y/n then write badass!y/n. People get so hung up on writing shy readers and saying it's weird. It's how a lot of people feel and I'm personally really shy irl which is why everything on my account is fake !! Kami isn't even my real name ! You guys need to stop spreading hate towards people and if you don't like their work whether it's cringe or even a little weird then please just scroll

"ew innocence kinks are for p*edos."

Oh my. More often than not innocence kinks are usually submissive people loving the chase and getting dominant people to spell it all out for them. Not only that but sometimes people suffer from childhood trauma (me !!) and they read things that make them get to relive the part where their 'innocence' was 'taken' from them in a gentle way and not by abuse of power. Also, some people just have innocence kinks !! And that's okay as long as you're two consenting adults. When did everyone get so judgemental !! I've seen stepcest, ACTUAL incest and more prominently pain kinks and knives kinks guys innocence kinks really are not the worst problems out there ! I understand that some people take them too far which is not okay and under no circumstances would I ever support someone taking advantage of someone else who doesn't fully comprehend what's going on. But yk what this is?? Mere fantasies. They don't exist, it's just what people like to read so please leave us alone 🩷

And finally, "why is y/n such a pushover omg?"

Wanna start off by saying I don't condone cheating ever !! And I would never write a fic where the reader gets back with the character after they cheat. With that being said, the only fics I have ever seen of that (very VERY few) they have put trigger warnings at the beginning to let you know what you're reading. And for the people who say that the reader shouldn't go back because their partner yelled at them... Guys PLEASE !! I understand that yelling isn't something that should be excused, you should never put your partner in a position where they are scared or feel uncomfortable. However, I also know for a fact that everyone reading this has at one point in their lives yelled at someone. Being loved isn't about loving someone with happy rainbows there's gonna be bad days which I find realistic enough. Partners argue, sometimes relationships even take breaks and people get petty and people yell but you know why?? Cause we're human !!! It's in our nature if we're angry or annoyed or whatever it may be. Of course this behavior shouldn't be excused if it's constantly on show. Although denying the fact that you'd ever get back with someone after they yelled at you during an argument is a little bit childish. I don't mean hate to anybody whatsoever I'm just saying that you're dating a human (hopefully) not an alien (you'd be surprised on Tumblr I actually can't rule that one out) they have emotions and while sometimes they can be misplaced... It doesn't mean they're a bad person for it.

This isn't meant to harm or send hate to anyone !! I've just seen so much hatred spread across Tumblr and it's really upsetting. People should learn to support one another and if you don't like the content, scroll ! Once again this is hate to nobody enjoy ur day/morning/evening/night lovelies !!! 🩷🩷

(sorry for the ramble angels)