#daryl dixon x rosita espinosa

[croxxbow13]

Not Tonight

Summary: Daryl and Rosita were both affected by Denise’s death, whether they want to talk about it or not. So they look for comfort in the bottle of a whiskey bottle.

Word Count: 6k

Notes: takes place immediately following Denise’s death in Season 6 Episode 14: Twice As Far. During the Alexandria era, right before the Savior arc. Rewatched the episode last night and seeing these two together and the opportunity just presented itself. I feel like they deserved it lol

Warnings: 18+ MDNI - language, consensual sex, alcohol consumption, slight angst.

I asked you to come with me because you're brave like my brother and sometimes you actually make me feel safe.

Daryl’s lungs burned. His arms ached, every muscle pulling tight with each motion as he drove the shovel into the dirt. He felt the beads of sweat as they rolled down his brow and into his eyes. But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

And I wanted you here because you're alone. Probably for the first time in your life.

His fingers clenched around the wooden handle, rough and splintered, gripping it tight like it was the only thing holding him together. Carol stood across from him. He could feel her eyes on him, but she didn’t speak. She knew he wouldn’t talk about it even if she asked.

And because you're stronger than you think you are, which gives me hope that maybe I can be, too.

Denise’s words played through his mind as he shoveled harder. Faster. As if he could dig the sound of them from his memory.

He gritted his teeth and shoveled another heap into the hole. Then another. The late afternoon sun was hot on his back and he welcomed the feeling of the way it burned through his shirt. The ache in his muscles gave him something to focus on.

Something other than the gnawing weight in his chest.

And it makes me sick that you guys aren't even trying because you're strong and you're smart and you're both really good people, and if you don't wake up... and face your…

The angry growl that rumbled up from his chest sounded too far away in his own ears as he threw the shovel to the ground, the metal clanging off the dirt and stone. His breath was ragged as he stormed off towards the house. He had to get out of here. Away from… this. The walls that were supposed to be a promise of safety and security felt like a prison cell. One that he had to escape. Now. He didn’t want to stay in this cage.

Not tonight.

The streets of Alexandria were quiet. Too damn quiet. Usually, people were out, talking on their porches, walking around. Now, it was like the whole place was holding its breath.

Daryl barely noticed. His boots hit the pavement hard, his steps quick and focused. He took the porch steps two at a time and pushed the front door open without bothering to shut it. He wasn’t staying long enough for that to matter anyways.

Inside was just as quiet.

He moved straight to his room, peeling his blood and dirt stained shirt over his head and tossing it into the corner before grabbing a fresh t-shirt from the pile on the chair and pulling it on.

The bottle he had come back for was exactly where he’d left it the night he’d put it there– shoved to the back of the kitchen counter. His fingers tightened around the neck of the glass as he turned for the door.

His crossbow was slung over his shoulder in one fluid motion, a practiced habit. He was already stepping through the doorway, ready to keep moving, when something caught his eye.

Rosita.

She was walking up the steps, hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket, her head tipped slightly downward like she was deep in thought. The way she held herself– like she was looking for something, or maybe running from it– was too familiar.

"Hey," she said quietly, but questioningly. Like she didn’t expect him to be there.

Daryl barely lifted his head. "Hey," he mumbled back, gripping the bottle a little tighter.

She stopped on the step just below him, rocking back slightly on her heel. Her eyes flicked over him, reading him the way she always did—quick, precise, like she could see straight through whatever bullshit he was trying to put up.

"You good?" she asked, tilting her chin up just slightly, like she already knew the answer.

He worked his lip between his teeth for a moment before nodding, his gaze dropping to the porch.

Rosita let out a breath, shifting her weight, and glancing at the bottle in his hand. She made a small, unimpressed noise in the back of her throat, not quite a scoff but close.

"Where you going?"

Daryl shrugged, adjusting his grip on the bottle. “Don’t know.”

She studied him for a second, then tipped her head. “Mind if I come?”

He finally looked at her. She didn’t look away.

He could’ve said no. Could’ve walked past her, left her standing there. But he didn’t.

There was something else in her expression that he didn’t catch before. Something sad… not quite a plea, but something buried deep below the surface.

“Nah” he muttered.

Rosita gave a small nod, a barely-there smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, and then she moved. She didn’t wait for him, didn’t ask again—just stepped off the porch, heading toward the truck like she’d already decided. Like it wasn’t up for debate.

Daryl let out a breath and followed.

Neither of them spoke as they walked out of the gate and climbed into the truck. The engine rumbled to life, and just like that, they were gone.

—

The truck sat in a clearing on the edge of the quarry. What was once filled and brimming with walkers now just housed a few dozen stragglers wandering aimlessly around the bottom. Their dirty, dust-covered figures moving in and out of shadows in the quickly fading sun.

Daryl stood by the back of the truck, his arms resting over the side as he swirled the contents in the bottle before turning it up. The whiskey burned its way down, warm and steady, already starting to blur his edges.

He welcomed it.

Rosita sat on the hood, one knee bent, her boot propped against the metal. She didn’t say anything, just watched him as he took another swig before passing the bottle her way. She took it without hesitation, tipping it back, letting the burn settle into her chest before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

The air between them was thick with something unspoken, but neither of them moved to fill the silence. The only sounds were the distant rustling of trees and the distant, hollow moans of the walkers below.

Daryl exhaled sharply, shifting his weight. The alcohol was working its way through him, dulling things just enough to take the edge off. He stared out over the quarry, watching the way the last bit of daylight slipped behind the treeline.

He kicked a rock, watching it skitter and disappear over the edge, a small cloud of dust rising up under his boot.

Rosita let out a quiet breath, rolling the bottle between her palms. She hesitated for a moment before she spoke.

“I saw him go into Sasha’s house.”

Her voice was steady, but there was a roughness underneath it, something raw. She took another swig from the bottle.

Daryl didn’t react. Just let the words sit there, pressing down like an extra weight on his shoulders.

Rosita scoffed under her breath, shaking her head slightly. “I guess I already knew.” She said, quieter this time.

She walked over to stand beside him, peering over the edge, her eyes tracking the slow-moving walkers below. Without looking at him, she reached out and handed him the bottle.

Daryl took it carefully and lifted it to his lips. The whiskey burned on the way down, but he welcomed it, letting it settle deep in his chest.

Rosita crossed her arms, shifting her weight onto one leg. “Guess I was just stupid enough to hope I was wrong.”

Daryl wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, exhaling through his nose. He didn’t have anything to say to that. Not anything that’d make a damn bit of difference anyways.

For a while, neither of them spoke. They just stood there and appreciated the rare silence as they passed the bottle back and forth.

The night was creeping in, the last bit of light stretching thin across the trees. The air was cooling, but the whiskey kept the warmth settled in his gut. Daryl blinked slow, his ears buzzing, a steady thrumming setting in behind his temples. Not enough to knock him down, but enough to make his limbs feel heavy, his edges dull.

He let out a quiet breath, then turned back towards the truck, moving to the tailgate. He climbed up, sitting on the edge with his legs hanging off, his fingers rubbing absentmindedly at the glass bottle before taking another drink.

Rosita stayed where she was for a moment, watching him. Then, without a word, she walked over, stopping in front of him. She tilted her head, watching him take another drink. “I was gonna leave,” she admitted. “After everything. Just… go.”

Daryl didn’t look at her, just fidgeted with the bottle in his hands, his thumbnail picking at the edge of the label.

He knew the feeling.

“But I didn’t,” she said, shaking her head slightly. “And now, I don’t even know why.”

She reached out for the bottle, and as she took it from him, her fingers brushed against his—just for a second, just enough for him to feel the warmth of her skin against his knuckles.

Daryl didn’t move, didn’t pull away. Just watched as she brought the bottle to her lips, tilting her head back for a slow drink. He shifted his weight on the tailgate. “Ain’t always so easy to just walk away.”

Rosita smirked, but it was small and tired. “No. It’s not.” She looked at him for a moment before she asked, “You ever gonna leave?”

Daryl worked his jaw, staring past her toward the treeline. He didn’t answer right away, just let the question settle, rolling it over in his mind.

Rosita didn’t push. Just waited, quiet, studying him like she was trying to read something written beneath his skin. The slight sway in her stance made it obvious that she was feeling the effects of the liquor as much as he was.

Finally, he exhaled, slow and measured. “Don’t recon I got anywhere else to go.” His voice was low, rough around the edges.

Rosita held his gaze for a second longer, then gave a small nod. “Yeah,” she murmured. “Same.”

She took another sip, then handed the bottle back. This time, when their fingers touched, it lingered. Just for a second longer than before.

Daryl felt it. The warmth of her skin against his, the way her fingers curled just slightly before letting go. He swallowed, looking down at the bottle as he took it from her.

Rosita shifted her weight, crossing her arms over her chest, her boot scuffing against the dirt. “Sometimes I think I should’ve just gone,” she admitted. “Before it got messy. Before it got complicated.”

Daryl huffed, shaking his head. “Ain’t never not messy.”

She let out a quiet laugh, the sound dry, almost bitter. “Yeah. No shit.”

They fell silent again, the night stretching out around them. The whiskey was working its way through him, muting things just enough to make the quiet feel comfortable. His ears still hummed, the edges of everything a little softer.

Rosita glanced up at the sky, the stars just starting to burn through the darkness. “Ever think about it?” she asked. “What’s out there? Past all this?”

Daryl rubbed a hand over his mouth, fingers dragging along the stubble on his jaw. “Used to.”

Rosita watched him for a second, like she was waiting for more, but he didn’t offer anything else. Instead, he just took another slow drink, letting the burn settle deep.

She exhaled through pursed lips as she turned and braced her hands on the edge of the tailgate and pulled herself up beside him. The metal groaned as she situated– their shoulders close, but not quite touching. She stretched her legs out, crossing them at the ankles, her boot knocking lightly against his.

Daryl glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing.

Rosita sighed, tipping her head back slightly. “I think about it all the time,” she admitted. “Just getting in a car. Driving ‘til the road runs out.”

Daryl huffed a faint laugh, staring at the bottle in his hands. “What’s stoppin’ ya?”

She looked at him then, really looked at him. The corner of her mouth twitched, something almost like a smirk, but there was something else behind it. Something quieter.

Rosita didn’t answer.

Instead, she reached for the bottle again, her fingers grazing his as she took it from him. He watched her as she took another swig, her throat moving with the swallow before she exhaled through her nose. The bottle lowered, resting loosely between her hands, her fingers tapping against the glass in a slow, aimless rhythm.

Daryl rubbed his palms against his jeans, the warmth from the whiskey settling in his gut. She lifted the bottle again, took a drink and then handed it back. This time, when their fingers met, it wasn’t just a brush– it was slower, heavier. A beat too long. Neither one of them moved right away.

Daryl swallowed, his throat suddenly dry for reasons that had nothing to do with the whiskey.

Rosita’s eyes flicked to his– just a glance, quick, unreadable– before she pulled her hand away and settled it back in her lap.

The night stretched around them, quiet except for the rustling trees and the chorus of crickets and cicadas that filled the warm summer air.

Daryl rolled the bottle in his hands, his pulse thudding a little harder against his ribs. “You ever gonna leave?”

Rosita took a second, her lips pressing into a line as she gave him a gentle shrug. “Don’t know,” she admitted. “Sometimes I feel like it would be easier out there.”

Daryl hummed low in his throat, lifting the bottle to his lips. He could feel the weight of her eyes on him, the same way he could still feel the ghost of her touch against his skin. It made him restless. Like he needed to move.

He slid forward, his feet thudding the ground, his balance a little uncertain at first. The ground seemed to shift beneath him, so he put a steadying hand on the truck until he was sure his legs wouldn’t betray him. He thought that his small stumble went unnoticed, until she let out a small laugh.

He shot her a look and she smirked, tipping her chin toward him. “You good?” But the way she said it was in that low throaty tone that made it almost sound like a purr falling from her lips.

Daryl grunted a soft laugh, shaking his head lightly, more at himself than her. “M’fine.”

Rosita hummed like she wasn’t entirely convinced, but she didn’t push. Instead, she reached for the bottle again. This time, she didn’t wait for him to hand it over, just plucked it from his grip, her fingers sliding against his as she did.

That damn touch again. Fleeting, but warm. Enough to make something coil low in his stomach.

She took a drink, long and slow, before lowering the bottle and licking a stray drop from her bottom lip. The movement was unintentional, effortless, but his eyes followed it anyways.

She was leaned to the side, propped back on one hand, the bottle clutched in the other. Perched on the edge of the tailgate, she looked so casual, so at ease. Her dark hair fell lose over her shoulders, contrasting sharply against her white tanktop that had ridden up, showing a small sliver of her stomach just above the waistband of her jeans. Daryl corrected his gaze, realizing that the flush that crept up his neck wasn’t just from the whiskey.

She must’ve noticed something in his expression, because her smirk faded slightly, her dark eyes lingering on his. “What?” she asked, her voice lower than what it had been just a minute ago.

Daryl shook his head, turning his attention back in the direction of the quarry. “It's just funny.”

Rosita arched a brow, shifting on the tailgate, the liquor already lacing her voice with humor. “What’s funny?” she asked as she tilted her head slightly, watching him. Her eyes gleemed brightly in the dim light. And when he turned his gaze back to hers, their eyes met for a moment before he spoke.

“Instead of goin’ somewhere, doin’ sometin’,” he exhaled sharply through his nose, “we’re just sittin here on the side of this damn quarry,” he motioned back towards the gaping hole just in front of the truck, “gettin’ drunk in the dark.”

She laughed then, shaking her head. “Yeah, guess neither one of us is as smart as we think we are.”

She let her legs swing lightly beneath her as she watched him, he was working his bottom lip between his teeth again as he stared out into the distance.

She offered the bottle out to him again, and he took a step closer, his hip brushing against her knee as he took it from her. His gaze was still on the horizon.

“I mean,” She said, the humor in her voice slowly fading, “There are worse ways to spend a summer night...” He turned his eyes back to her then, and she watched as his smirk faded into something else. Something softer.

He gave a small grunt in agreement, shifting his weight slightly from one foot to the other. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He said, though his eyes never left hers.

Silence stretched between them, laced with something thicker than it had before, broken only by the steady song of crickets and the occasional groan of a walker far below.

Daryl passed the bottle back to her, and this time, when their fingers met, neither of them moved right away.

The touch lingered.

Warm.

Deliberate.

He felt the way she let her fingers trail down his before wrapping around the bottle and pulling it away, slow and unhurried.

He felt his pulse thrum in his throat, but he didn’t look away.

Rosita kept her eyes on his as she brought the bottle to her lips again. She took a sip, slow and measured, the whiskey burning down her throat. She didn’t flinch, didn’t break her gaze.

Daryl felt something shift between them, something subtle and unspoken, but undeniable.

He should’ve looked away, should’ve said something to cut through whatever it was that was building between them. But he didn’t.

Rosita lowered the bottle, her fingers curling loosely around the neck of it. Her knee brushed against him again, just barely, but he didn’t move away this time.

The space between them felt smaller now. Closer. Like something had shifted without either of them moving much at all.

Daryl’s fingers flexed at his sides, a slow, restless motion. He could still feel the ghost of her touch against his skin, the weight of her gaze lingering on him like the heat in the air.

Rosita tilted her head slightly, watching him. “What’s on your mind, Daryl?”

Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper.

Daryl swallowed, his throat working around the tightness that had settled there. He could’ve shrugged. Could’ve muttered nothin’ and put a safe distance between them.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t move.

He didn’t look away.

Rosita’s lips parted slightly, like she was going to say something else, but she hesitated. Instead, she set the bottle down beside her, her fingers lingering on the glass before she straightened.

And when she did, she was closer.

Not much. Just enough.

And somehow, her knees were on either side of him now.

Daryl still didn’t move.

Didn’t pull away.

Didn’t stop her when her fingers curled just slightly in the front of his shirt.

His pulse thudded harder now, rattling in his chest like something waiting to break loose.

Then she closed the distance.

Her lips met his, slow but sure, tasting of whiskey and heat and something else that had been simmering between them all night.

Daryl sucked in a sharp breath through his nose, startled by the sudden rush of it, but he didn’t stop. Didn’t hesitate.

His hands found her waist, his fingers pressing into the fabric of her shirt, gripping tight like he needed something to hold onto. Rosita responded immediately, parting her lips against his, her fingers sliding into his hair at the base of his neck. It sent a shiver down his spine, a spark shooting straight through him, unraveling the last bit of restraint he might’ve had left.

The kiss deepened.

Rosita shifted forward on the tailgate, bracketing his thighs, pulling him in closer. Daryl let her. Let her push and pull and drag him down with her, because fuck, he wanted this.

The bottle tipped over somewhere beside them, rolling off into the dirt, forgotten.

His hands slid down, gripping her hips, his fingers pressing hard enough to bruise as he pulled her forward. She shifted, legs tightening around him as she kissed him harder, more desperate now. Her hands tugged at his hair, pulling a low noise from deep in his throat.

His skin was burning, his head swimming, the whiskey mixing with something stronger—something that had nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with the way she was pulling him under.

Rosita broke the kiss just long enough to suck in a breath, her forehead pressing against his, her own breathing uneven.

“This a bad idea?” she murmured, her lips brushing his as she spoke.

Daryl swallowed, his grip on her tightening. “Prob’ly.”

She smirked, fingers trailing down the front of his shirt before slipping beneath the hem, her touch searing against his stomach.

“Good,” she muttered, then pulled him right back in.

The moment shattered, breaking apart like a dam giving way.

Rosita pulled him in harder, her fingers curling into his shirt, dragging him closer. Daryl let her, let himself get lost in the heat of it, in the whiskey and the way her body fit against his like they’d done this a hundred times before.

Her legs tightened around his hips, pulling him flush against her. The tailgate groaned beneath their weight, metal creaking as she shifted, pressing into him.

Daryl exhaled hard, his breath sharp against her skin as he broke away for just a second, but Rosita wasn’t having it. She chased his lips, her hands sliding under his shirt, nails scraping along his ribs, dragging another low rumble from within him.

His grip tightened on her hips, fingers pressing into the soft curve of her waist as he pulled her even closer, his mind buzzing from the alcohol, from her, from the way her mouth was working against his—needy and relentless.

She tugged at his shirt, frustration rolling off her in waves when it wouldn’t come off fast enough. Daryl helped, yanking it over his head and tossing it blindly behind him.

Rosita barely gave him time to breathe before her lips were back on his, her hands sliding up his bare chest, nails scratching lightly over his skin. He hissed at the sensation, heat pooling low in his stomach, thick and heavy.

She smirked against his mouth, biting down on his lower lip before licking over it, slow and teasing.

Something in him snapped.

Daryl growled low in his throat and grabbed her thighs, lifting her effortlessly off the tailgate. She gasped as her back hit the side of the truck, but the sound melted into a breathy moan when he pressed against her, pinning her there.

Her hands found his hair, yanking him down as she kissed him harder, her body arching into his. The scent of whiskey and summer air clung to her skin, mixing with something distinctly hers—something warm and intoxicating.

Daryl barely had a second to think, barely cared to. His hands were on her, gripping, feeling, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of her shirt, pushing it up as his lips trailed down her neck.

Rosita gasped, her head tipping back against the truck, exposing more skin for him to claim. His teeth scraped against her pulse, and she shuddered, fingers twisting into his hair.

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t want to.

Not tonight.

Rosita hooked her legs around him, locking him against her as she ground down, making his breath stutter, making every nerve in his body light up.

“Daryl,” she breathed against his ear, her voice rough and wanting.

That was all it took.

All the control, all the restraint, anything that had been holding them back—gone.

They weren’t thinking anymore.

Not tonight.

Just moving.

Hands desperate, mouths hungry, bodies pressing together like they needed this.

Like they’d fall apart if they stopped.

And neither of them wanted to stop.

Not now.

Not tonight.

Rosita’s breath hitched as Daryl’s hands moved—rough, desperate, fingers sliding beneath her shirt, palms dragging over the bare skin of her waist. She was warm beneath his touch, burning hot, and when she arched into him, he let out a sharp breath against her throat.

Her nails scraped down his back, pulling him closer, pressing her body flush against his. The truck behind them was solid, grounding, but everything else was spiraling—too fast, too much, and still not enough.

“Fuck,” she whispered against his lips, her voice breaking on the word as she tilted her hips, rolling them slow, deliberate.

Daryl gritted his teeth, his fingers tightening around her thighs, his breath ragged as he tried to ground himself. But she wasn’t giving him the chance. Wasn’t letting him get a grip before she was kissing him again, rough and hungry, like she wanted to take every last piece of him tonight.

His hand slid higher, under her shirt, fingertips trailing the band of her bra before pushing it up, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his calloused hands. She gasped into his mouth, nails digging into his shoulders, and he swallowed the sound, pressing her tighter against the truck, holding her exactly where he wanted her.

Rosita reached between them, fumbling with his belt, cursing under her breath when the buckle refused to cooperate.

Daryl smirked against her skin, his lips dragging along her jaw. “Y’rushin’.” His voice was low, rough, a rasp of gravel and heat against her ear.

She exhaled sharply, her fingers yanking at his belt again, stubborn and unrelenting. “Shut up,” she muttered, but there was a smirk in her voice, breathy and reckless.

Daryl chuckled, deep in his throat, but it cut off when she rocked against him again, sending a sharp jolt of heat straight through him.

His patience snapped.

Grabbing her wrists, he pinned them above her head against the truck, his grip firm but careful. Rosita sucked in a breath, her dark eyes flashing with something wild, something daring.

Her lips parted, but before she could say anything, Daryl was on her again—his mouth covering hers, devouring, his free hand slipping down, pressing into the heat between them.

Rosita moaned, her head tipping back, body arching into his touch. “Daryl—”

That was it.

Whatever control he’d been holding onto was gone.

He kissed her hard, swallowing her gasps, letting his hands and his body tell her exactly how much he wanted this, wanted her.

Wanted to lose himself in her completely.

And Rosita let him.

Met him with the same raw intensity, the same fire.

No hesitation. No second-guessing.

Just heat.

Just this.

Just them.

Daryl’s breath was ragged, his grip tightening on Rosita’s wrists as he held them against the truck. His restraint was razor-thin, fraying with every breathless sound she made, every shift of her hips against his.

Rosita smirked up at him, lips swollen from his kisses, her dark eyes flickering with something wild. “You gonna do somethin’ or just stand there?” she taunted, her voice rough, teasing.

Daryl didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t think.

Didn’t give her the chance to say anything else before he crashed his mouth against hers, rough and unforgiving.

She gasped into him, her fingers flexing where he held them, her body pressing into his as she hooked a leg around his hip, pulling him closer.

His free hand roamed lower, slipping beneath the waistband of her jeans, his fingers brushing hot, sensitive skin.

Rosita groaned, her head falling back against the truck, her breath catching in her throat.

“Fuck,” she whispered, her hips jerking against his touch.

Daryl growled low in his chest, the sound vibrating through him as his fingers pressed deeper, dragging another sharp moan from her lips.

Rosita tugged at his grip, and this time, he let her go.

Her hands were on him in an instant, shoving his belt out of the way, popping the button of his jeans, dragging the zipper down with a quick, deliberate motion that sent heat pooling low in his stomach.

Daryl sucked in a breath, his forehead pressing to hers as her hand wrapped around him, warm and sure.

His fingers clenched against her hip, his entire body tensing as she moved—slow at first, then firmer, teasing.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice breaking on the word.

Rosita grinned against his jaw, biting lightly before licking over the spot. “Thought I told you to shut up,” she teased.

Daryl let out a rough laugh, but it quickly dissolved into a groan as she squeezed just right. His patience snapped completely.

His hands were on her then, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her thighs as he lifted her.

She let him, wrapping her legs around him, arms locked around his shoulders as he slammed her harder against the truck.

“Now you’re gettin’ it,” she murmured against his lips, her voice breathless, shaky.

Daryl didn’t answer. Just kissed her again, swallowing her words, pressing into her, feeling every inch of heat, of need, of urgency between them.

There was no thinking, no hesitation.

Just heat.

Just hands and mouths and tangled limbs.

Just them, lost in the moment, in the whiskey, in the night.

And neither of them cared about anything else.

Not now.

Not tonight.

Daryl grunted as Rosita tightened her legs around him, the heat of her body pressing against his, sending another sharp pulse of want straight through him. His hands gripped her thighs, rough fingertips digging into smooth skin, holding her steady against the truck.

But it wasn’t enough.

He needed more.

Without breaking the kiss, he pulled back just enough to shift his grip, one arm sliding beneath her thighs as he turned, carrying her effortlessly to the cab of the truck. .

Rosita gasped, startled for just a second before she smirked against his lips. “Didn’t take you for the type,” she teased, her breath warm against his mouth.

Daryl huffed a rough laugh, kicking open the truck door, maneuvering them both into the cab with practiced ease. “Shut up,” he muttered, but there was no real bite to it, his voice ragged with need.

Rosita didn’t argue. Didn’t hesitate.

Daryl barely had the sense to shut the truck door before he was on her again.

She just pulled him down with her as he climbed into the seat, her back hitting the worn leather, her fingers tangling in his hair as she dragged him closer. She kissed him hard, raw, full of something neither of them wanted to name.

She was fire beneath him—burning hot, winding tight, her hands gripping at his bare skin, her legs tightening around his hips, pulling him deeper, harder.

The whiskey burned in his veins, but it wasn’t the liquor making him feel like this. Wasn’t the heat rolling off them in waves, fogging up the windows.

It was her.

The way she moved beneath him, the way she gasped into his mouth when he rolled his hips just right, the way she dug her nails into his shoulders, leaving faint crescent marks against his skin.

“Fuck, Daryl—”

The way she said his name, breathless and sharp, nearly undid him.

He growled against her throat, biting lightly at her pulse point, dragging his teeth over her skin before soothing it with his tongue. Rosita shuddered beneath him, her back arching, her nails dragging down his spine.

Daryl braced a hand against the door, the other gripping her hip as she shifted beneath him, heat pressing against heat, the friction making his breath hitch.

Clothes were in the way—too much fabric, too much space between them, and Daryl wasn’t having it. His hands were rough, fast, pushing her jeans down over her hips, shoving them past her thighs.

Rosita helped, lifting her hips, kicking them off until they were forgotten somewhere in the cab.

His jeans followed, shoved just low enough, his belt clattering against the seat as Rosita wrapped her legs around him again.

She bit down on his lower lip, pulling a low growl from him, and then he was moving, pressing his forehead against hers as his fingers gripped her thigh, hitching it higher around his waist.

Her breathing was uneven, her chest rising and falling quickly beneath him, but she still managed to smirk, her fingers dragging down his stomach, teasing.

“You sure?” he muttered, voice rough, barely more than a breath.

Rosita huffed, her lips curling up in something like amusement, but her eyes were dark, heavy with want. “Shut up and fuck me, Dixon.”

Daryl didn’t need to be told twice.

He shifted, positioning himself, and then—

Rosita gasped, her nails biting into his skin as he sank into her, slow at first, stretching, fitting, filling every inch of space between them.

Daryl’s breath hitched, his grip on her tightening as he fought to keep himself steady, to keep from losing it right there.

She was hot, tight, perfect around him, her body arching to take him in deeper, her legs locking around him to pull him closer.

Daryl let out a rough breath, his grip tightening before sealing his mouth over hers again, swallowing the sharp gasp she let out as he finally settled in.

“Fuck,” she whispered, her head tipping back against the seat. “Daryl—”

He groaned, low and ragged, as he started to move, slow at first, testing, savoring the way she felt beneath him.

Rosita didn’t want slow.

She met his thrusts, rolling her hips in a way that made his vision blur, made him tighten his grip on her thighs, made him bury his face in her neck to muffle the growl building in his chest.

Rosita arched up to meet him, her nails raking down his back as they moved together, a tangled mess of heat and hunger and urgency.

The truck rocked slightly with their movements, the windows fogging up, the whiskey-fueled haze mixing with the sound of breathless gasps, low curses, the rustle of hands gripping at fabric, pulling, needing.

Daryl’s head dipped, lips dragging along the curve of her throat, tasting salt and warmth, his breath rough against her skin as Rosita’s fingers clenched in his hair.

He wasn’t thinking anymore.

Neither of them were.

Wasn’t worrying.

Wasn’t holding back.

He let go.

Let her take him under.

Let himself drown in her, in this, in the way nothing else mattered in this moment except the way she felt, the way she sounded, the way she moved beneath him like she needed this as much as he did.

They lost themselves completely in the moment, in each other, in the way nothing else existed outside the heat of the cab, the way the world could’ve burned around them and neither of them would’ve given a damn.

Not now.

Not tonight.

And when Rosita clenched around him, shuddering, gasping his name, he followed her over the edge, pulling her closer, holding on tight as everything broke apart around them.

They stayed there for a moment, tangled together, breathing hard, the weight of what just happened settling in between them.

But neither of them moved.

Neither of them spoke.

Because for once, they weren’t running from anything.

Not tonight.

[lunajay33]

@deansapplepie @azanoni @writer-ann-artist @ghostboneswrites2 @daryldixmedown

[dixonsfawn]

gonna be working on changing the layout of all my fics and blurbs over the next day or so, but while i am feel free to send in some blurb reqs using the prompt lists below for any of the characters on my masterlist ᡣ𐭩

⊹ soft and sweet ( fluff ) ⊹ melt into me ( smut ) ⊹ hit 'em where it hurts ( angst )

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

Rosita: You practically drool when you see him.

Tara: Yep, you’re down bad.

Y/N: We’re friends.

Carol, pointing with a wooden spoon: No, Daryl and I are friends. You two are clueless. That’s what you are.

Y/N: Fine! I’m crazy about him. He’s kind and brave and god, he’s attractive.

Y/N, gesturing broadly toward her hips: I want him to strap me to his face and recite the alphabet.

Carol, Rosita, and Tara: 😅

Y/N, dropping her head: He’s right behind me, isnt he?

Daryl, blinking and blushing furiously: …

Daryl: Just, uh—gonna grab some water.

Tara, sing-songing: A, B, C, D, E, F, G…

[cathrrrine]

came across this screenshot of a tweet on pinterest and i couldn’t help but headcanon making it through the twd apocalypse because of a painfully obvious crush on daryl.

twd headcanon: obviously crushing on an oblivious daryl dixon.

giggling in the distance while daryl dixon is in the middle of killing walkers, “ugh he’s so cute when he does that”

kicking your feet sitting up in a tree going “hiiiii daryllllll! <3 whatcha doinnn” and he’s like “???” cause you’re legitimately surrounded by now dead walkers and covered in blood

very sunshine x grumpy coded

whispering to maggie “oh my god do you think he was checking me out?” in the middle of a battle

“does this top look cute on me?” “what do you think is his type?” “should i maybe start smoking so we can go on smoke breaks together”

reminding yourself you’re a grown woman with composure and dignity when you find yourself wanting to scream into your pillow, because this daryl crush is so frustrating and he’s just so hot and his arms are so perfect and the way his voice makes you want to climb him right then and there-

wanting to be all mysterious and cool around him but it’s like the spirit of your teenage self possesses you whenever he’s around

subtly standing riiigghhhtttt behind him so rick pairs you together for supply runs then fist-pumping to yourself when it works

rick pretends not to notice. he pairs both of you up on purpose everytime

if he helps you up, you hold on to his hand for longer than you need to, in what you think is a subtle way but everyone notices

while almost dying, “fuck, can someone make sure my hair looks good before daryl sees me? rosita PLEASE im your FRIEND stop messing with my wound and fix my HAIRhdhwhrjue”

“maggie if i pass out can you please do me a favour and make sure daryl is the one who carries me? <3 oooh do you think he knows how to do cpr-“

*in the middle of killing walkers* wow daryl!!! *slash* that was *stab* a great shot!

daryl being ultimately clueless about your flirting and genuinely just thinks you’re being friendly

carol having to tell him “daryl she’s in love with you it’s so obvious”

and he denies it “nah she acts that way towards everyone” even if he secretly wishes it was true

carol wanting to smack him on the head because everyone knows you’re head over heels for daryl dixon except for daryl dixon

when you’re caught in a herd, you force yourself to keep going because there’s no way in hell you’re going to die surrounded by walkers. in your dazed state you’re thinking “fuck this shit im tracking dixon down and im gonna use my last breath to tell him i love him”

and maybe dying in his arms sounds better than being ripped apart by reanimated corpses so you keep pushing yourself

when you make it home you basically just throw yourself at the gates and everyone rushes over to get you to the infirmary

you could’ve sworn you heard maggie yell at daryl to carry you but you’re too out of it to process the thought

bleeding out and feeling yourself fading but then you hear daryl’s voice

“come on, y/n, you’re a fighter. you gotta make it through this. i know you can. please, you have to.”

it’s a miracle how instantly that makes you open your eyes when you were seconds away from death just before that

bringing you flowers and random little gifts while you’re healing up in bed but only putting them next to you when you’re asleep because he’s too shy

him not used to the days being so quiet without you being two steps behind him

finding himself missing your ridiculous quips when he’s on a supply run killing walkers and having to fill the silence with your voice in his head, recalling all the things you regularly say to him, because it feels too weird without you

being so attentive to your needs when you feel good enough to be out and about

daryl feeling much, much better when you’re back to being yourself and the days feel normal again with you going “hiiiiii darryyylllll <3”

carol: she’s in love with you.

daryl: she ain’t. stop it.

carol: fine! but you can’t deny you’re in love with her

whole thing is very reminiscent of a high school crush; innocent, bashful, endearing. everyone’s so entertained by The Daryl and Y/N Show

they have a bet going on to see who asks who out first

daryl asking maggie if what carol tells him is true, trying and failing to be casual about it

very shrill “he WHAT?!?” scream heard from your room, just minutes after the exchange

“TELLMEEVERYTHINGHESAID-“

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

"You're heading out again?" Rosita asked, catching you grabbing a few things from the pantry and loading them into your pack. She had Coco on her hip. "Didn't you just get back last night?"

You shrugged. "Yeah, but... I need to find him. I need to see him with my own eyes so I know he's okay. He's been gone a long time," you said, zipping up your pack. "And after the bridge—I don't know... I'm just worried, is all."

Rosita smiled and her eyebrows lifted. "That's all?" she said, bouncing Coco.

You gave her a strange look. "Yeah? ...What?"

"Come on," she said, laughing lightly and shaking her head. "I finally have you figured out. You're telling me you still haven't realized?"

You stared at her blankly. "You have me figured out?"

"Yeah... You love him. You're in love with Daryl. That's why you're doing all this shit—going out to see if you can find him all the time, taking him supplies, keeping an eye on his place, punching anyone who talks shit in the face..." There had been an incident the previous week.

Your heart seemed to have stopped completely. "...Fuck."

"Yeah," Rosita said, smiling knowingly. "Maybe you should just stay out there with him once you find him."

"I—I don't want be a burden on him. I think he wants to be left alone out there for the most part," you replied, unsure.

"I think he wants to be left alone by anyone that isn't you, and maybe Carol. Think about it. And be safe," she said.

Prompt: "I finally have you figured out." / "Oh, you do?" / "Yeah, you love him. That's why you're doing all this shit."

[scentedpepper]

Missing | TWD

MALE READER X S5 GROUP

Summary: The group reverberates with a somberness upon your potential death

Content Warnings: Mention of Major Character Deaths from previous seasons, S5 and below spoilers

AUTHOR NOTE(S):

Not too sure how I feel about this one

Could be read as GN for the most part (he/him used a few times, 'Father' used once, 'Brother' used once)

Was originally supposed to be centered around Daryl and Rick, but somewhere along the writing process, I devlled into just about every other member of the group

Ya'll know how many last names I had to look up for these tags

Enjoy?

_________________________________________

7 days.

Seven days of them searching for their found family member who went out to investigate and never came back.

Glenn thought for sure that maybe with all the shit they have been through, the apocalypse must have treated you a little kinder.

That was assuming you were already dead.

Which Rick, in all his glory, continued to remind everyone that until there is evidence, there are just as many possibilities as there are stars in the sky.

He thought it was a strange fit, all doom and gloom, it wasn't like Glenn to carry around the carcasses of such negative presumptions about his loved ones, but nonetheless, he had just the same.

An ever present reminder as the fire was stoked by Glenn's constant fidgets, his spaced-out breaths being released with the baggage of endless possibilities.

"Glenn's gonna lose it when he sees this one. "

Is what Daryl said to Rick on the night of day 5, your shirt clenched in hand, approaching the church with footsteps so heavy you could mistake them for Walkers.

The worst part, Rick thought, was how he had found it, which further fueled the possibility that couldn't help but arise.

A decaying Walker's den where there was a mass majority of bodies wearing clothes; Not Walker corpses.

Hopeless and without explanation Rick approached camp with a grim expression that took root in his features.

And when Daryl had handed the shirt to Glenn after he feverishly chanted let me see it, let me see it, over and over, Daryl observed the way his hand shook when he snatched it and how the same hand came up to rub his face after he confirmed in his own mind that, without a doubt, it was yours.

Maggie had to take the shirt from his hands and when she felt the dirt and grime ragged against her skin, she almost burst at the seams, Rick knew by the strain in her brows and the way her hands turned into fists at her side.

She was the first person Rick had questioned upon your missing presence, wanting to know who you had walked out with last night and who stayed behind, wanting to pinpoint possible places you might be, or routes you could've taken.

Her response was ridden with anxious adrenaline, her lips chewed raw in worry, bouncing on her toes before stomping off and pulling everyone together to go looking for you.

There was no conversation within the group but a mutual agreement.

Naturally, the first person they looked to for some account of wrongdoing was Gabriel.

You had always been so intuitive, like you were the one who could read minds not him.

The others felt so comforted by you, Gabriel assumed.

He was only too accustomed to the fact that everyone saw the good in you, the positive, and while that brought him a modicum of solace, there were times where he couldn't help but wallow in envy.

A man of God and yet, it was you who they looked to, as if you were Christ himself.

As if you were his light.

Gabriel couldn't understand this fascination.

When he had confronted you about it, rather presumptuously, Gabriel was too quick to gauge the situation and allow his ego to speak for him. Said confrontation also happened to occur right before Maggie and Sasha who shared pointed looks with each other as they watched the scene unfold before them.

You were quick on your toes, always had been. Back on the farm, when Shane had been more akin to a wild boar, you were always the first to confront him. Always calm, or whenever you spoke you at least had the appearance of it, always matter of fact. Even when your voice raised or when anger was seething through you, it seemed like everyone just stopped, and listened.

It was one of your redeeming traits, sharp tongue laced with facts that wouldn't hesitate to point out things that were missing, contradictions, positions and beliefs.

It left some satisfaction amongst the ton when Gabriel pushed out of Judith's designated room, nearly knocking Carl off his feet as the door came with his exit.

A flustered look had replaced him, no doubt having felt the embarrassment, as if he had been burning inside.

After a beat, he had apologized under his breath and carried himself in haste towards you.

Unfortunately, this incident occurred the last night anyone had seen you.

When everyone had risen that morning, one by one coming off the floors of the church and stirring awake those who remained sleeping, you were the only one who hadn't stirred. Because your body wasn't even of prescence.

Almost immediately, everybody went on an emotional and mental frenzy.

Even when the conversation with Gabriel didn't bode well for him. He refuted, if a little pathetically, that you weren't very friendly towards him.

Upon hearing of what had happened just hours before they woke, Daryl seemed to retreat back to the deepest of his old roots.

Begrudgingly, Rick knew this was what they called "fight or flight."

Luckily for everyone involved, Daryl never moved unless there was something to fight for. The man had gained some sort of control over the years of personal development but like a dog, he'd jumped on Gabriel the second tensions rose.

There was a knife pressed against Gabriel's throat when Drayl pushed him into the nearest wall and the preacher did nothing but pray to himself and accept his fate.

Minuets later of interrogation and threatening, Michonne and Tara intervenned, though Daryl seemed none too eager to back off the smaller man, not until he was physically being dragged back and Rick telling him to get a hold of himself.

"He's lucky I didn't slit his fuckin' throat! It was him!"

Because back in the day, with Merle at his side, he would've and to hell with anyone who said differently.

Rick saw Carol's lips part to say something, as did Abraham, but nothing came out. Not with Rick cutting through them like cloth to speak, clearing his throat, hands rising in demand to appease the tension in the church.

"We are going to look for Y/N. It's no secret that we're standing on a ticking time bomb. " His head turned sharply towards everyone, waiting a beat before he continued. "Everybody gets paired off. No one leaves each other's sides. "

His gaze softened upon the archer as he came around to see the anger and frustration but most of all, the pain in his eyes. He wanted to assure him, they were going to find you. But he couldn't find the words to, as his own fingertips surged with doubt and as the rest of the days proceeded, his whole body seemed to become encapsulated by it.

They all began out at once, weapons gathered, determination and grievance fused into them as they exited the church in pairs. The only 2 persons staying behind being Judith and Abraham.

Before the front doors fell, Rick sought out Gabriel, his fingers ghosting over the knob as his stomach tied in knots.

"If you so much as touch a hair on her head. "

He was referring to Michonne who'd gotten the unsavory job of catering to Gabriel, "I swear it'll be the last thing you do. "

His eyes followed Gabriels timley swallow as he spoke.

"And if I find out you had an inkling of any wrongdoing, God won't be able to save you. "

It wasn't just Daryl that was shaken by the fear of your abduction –or worse, there wasn't a moment where Rick could stop to inhale without thinking about you. How tightly you had embraced him 2 nights prior, when he'd confided that maybe he wasn't suited for this leader job anymore, that he didn't know where you all would go, or if you'd even make it past these religious grounds before succumbing to hunger.

There was warmth radiating off you like a furnace and he couldn't shake the soothing way your fingertips gilded against his forearm as you told him that things would fall into place in time, no matter how difficult it got.

But Daryl was a damn firecracker, this way of his to emote through hostility and intimidation was a way for him to cope with the potential loss of his brother.

You were not Shane.

There's so much Rick could rationalize before he no longer had the will to counter how much he wished you were there now to quell the savagery within his best friend.

Carl was as much of a mess as the archer, if not more. The rage within him seemed to blaze each step closer to the forest. It burned at his eyes, tearing his hands into fists that felt as if their own knuckles may shatter within the grasp.

Rosita had to stop him.

"What?" He initially sneered at her, pushing out of her grip and continuing to stomp forward until he could feel her nipping at his heels.

"Carl, now is not the time to get some kind of revenge, alright? We'll find the fucker, but getting ourselves killed is not going to help. "

In time, she got him to sit down and collect himself, which consisted of roughly pacing and rubbing his face with his palms in an attempt to scrub the hostility right out of him. He wanted to scream, to fucking yell the earth apart because this wasn't fair, none of this was.

Yet, he found it somewhat easier to sit there and allow his teeth to sink into his knuckles while he suppressed tears.

Eugene and Tara had wandered the farthest the fastest, the church began to slowly disappear the deeper they strayed into the density of the trees until there was no distinguishable church at all, or street or houses for that matter.

They were silent the entire way, like speaking would somehow shatter the chances of finding you, safe, sound and alive.

So then when Tara's voice did come, meek and soft, far from anything close to the tone she usually sported, Eugene nearly jumped.

He halted immediately, his body turning as he looked every which way as if you may suddenly appear behind a tree.

"We should turn around and just make our way back. " She whispered.

That was her biggest concern, because with the route they had taken, any further into the unknown, she knew there were no way to familiarize themselves with where they were.

"Rick said to keep searching til sun down and that's just what I intend to do. " There was an an irrtation in his expression and an agony to his voice that confirmed his intentions were anything but logical.

"Eugene. "

And again, his body suddenly felt like it wasn't his, or maybe his bones weren't aligned and he was a puppet, a stranger, someone entirely else.

"Eugene, we won't get anywhere trying to force out this search. Please. The sun is already setting, it's near impossible to see 10 feet ahead and even if we were to press further in the dark, they're-"

She didn't need to finish her sentence to know what she wanted to say, the image was still clear in her mind as if she had just watched the last interaction you'd had with her and Rosita. The absolute dejection you allowed her to see in your eyes, the hesitation and restraint you had felt in giving your hugs. She took one and wrapped herself around you and you didn't dare do more than reciprocate the tightness, afraid to hurt her. As if.

After some minuets, Eugene came to and they turned back.

When they got to the church, Abraham was doing circles around the confinements of the holy sanctuary with Judith in his arms.

"Where's Gabriel?" Eugene spoke cautiously, realizing the weight in his voice when he did so.

"He's locked in his office. Said to leave him to rot or somethin'. Not a bad idea, the bastards a fuckin killer. "

Abraham was just as convinced as Daryl. No one asked to elaborate because they somehow knew the moment he did, he'd lose his shit. Like a bomb that's set to a timer, ticking away until it explodes into your ears.

"Find anything?" He asked as Tara slid down the wall she had been leaning against since they returned and brought her legs to her chest. Eugene shook his head at him which made the soldier nod back bitterly.

By day two, Michonne decided to conduct a one man search party for the nights. When the moon came out, she snuck off to the woods and scouted the area she had previously searched, for any evidence that may have been missed on the 1st visitation. Which would prove to cause strife amongst the group when Carl found her out four days later.

"What are you doing?" He challenged harshly as he forced himself into the dark brush behind her with Michonne's body jolting at the abrupt arrival of company.

"Carl-"

"Are you crazy?”

The boy wasn't the only person who she'd receive these questions from, Tyrese had found himself wandering her way as well.

"Why would you come out here on your own? Have you lost it?" He griped under his breath, tone laced with disapproval as if the woods had just come to eat them alive.

"Well, what are you doing out here?" She retorted back in a whisper yell with a forceful gesture to the man who was just as armed, just as ready as her.

Her efforts were fruitless, though, and no response was heard, which left her walking the same way she came.

Rick wasn't happy about it.

At first, when Carl appeared through the door in the night, he thought his son was the culprit of the secret night searches, but soon realized what has transpired when he saw Michonne making her way inside.

"Everyone is on edge, alright? Everyone is doing exactly what is expected of them, they have been looking and looking and Michonne, it's about time you pulled your head from your ass and sat down for the night. " Rick had said 5 minuets after they'd settled in the privacy of Judiths room. Their voices were lowered considerably so as not to wake the others, but Rick's tone wasn't anything less than a demand.

"So we should just sit around?" She had, then, the urge to spit at him and remind him that you could be dead in the next second. Gone. Poof.

"We are not–" Rick's voice began to rise in octaves but he took a moment to lower the volume. "We are *not* just sitting around. "

There was an enervation in Rick's stance that Michonne could feel pricking her heart strings. He looked exhausted, absolutely strained.

"He could– he could be in trouble. " Michonne attempted to keep her voice leveled as she looked around in disdain, her lip trembling and Rick saw this, that she could not come to accept the way things were."I can't bury him." She hissed as clear glistens of wetness fell from the pools in her eyes.

Rick knew exactly the terror Michonne felt in the pit of her gut and he could almost see inside her head, the vision of a funeral and everyone in a heavy sweat of depression and rage, because it was the same one he saw every night before he closed his eyes.

A few dead bodies surrounding the fire pit in the woods while everyone circled around you and Daryl cried.

He had already envisioned it all, envisioned the way Glenn would crack at your loss. While Maggie was reduced to hiccups and broken speeches, she had somehow found the strength to collapse to the floor and refuse help.

Bobs face would fall, for once, it would fall and Sasha wouldn't be able to handle the breath leaving her body, clutching Tyrese, who looked just as devastated, to her to bring her solace.

Carol would gasp but it wouldn't matter because no one would hear her over Daryl's sobs, no one would see the way her lips pulled down at the corners and the lines in her face would tighten.

Rick didn't like to think about how he might react. He imagined it be something similar to crazed. But beyond that, he didn't want to picture it.

And what about his son? Carl who hadn't even fully grown yet. Rick couldn't stomach the thought, the sheer utter torment he'd experience watching his sons body begin to wither. He didn't want to know.

You'd been there while he was unconscious in that hospital bed, through every storm, everything, by his side. You were a father to Carl as much as he was and you'd been nothing short of a supporting role to Rick. There's been times when you just drove the both of them off in the car, taking trips to lakes and nearby parks, anywhere that offered a semblance of normalcy.

You'd scout the places out days before, cleaned it free of Walker's and set up a picnic on the cool greens of grass or near broken tables. Even once or twice when the fire smothered to ambers or if Carl's blood started to burn so hot, you'd give them a midnight rendezvous, all three of you climbing up a tree or anything that fit the current circumstances in which the group resided.

Rick had to run a hand through his hair and all he could do was grab Michonne by her shoulders, look her forcefully in the eyes and say:

"We are going to find him. And anyone who gets in the way of that will pay. "

Because he wasn't going to accept anything else.

Which is why he didn't stop Tyrese or Daryl or anybody who wanted a chunk out of Gabriel the morning of day eight when he suggested that they move on.

He even went as far as leaving the church entirely, not caring to put aside personal feelings, not caring how he may look. His expression was sour and drained and at this rate, the only thing he cared about was finding you.

He would have no problem burying his tomahawk right into the preachers skull.

Daryl kept watch most of the nights, refusing rest for the past week because every time he tried, he felt as if it were a ploy. He became distressed each time he was reminded you weren't going to walk in and slumber on the floor next to him or Carol. You weren't anywhere.

It pissed Daryl off beyond belief to know there was an actual possibility that you weren't breathing anymore, weren't thinking, feeling.

His anger had to be one of the few things driving him into the same track less search the next day as he pushed through the forest ahead of Rick.

Things were starting to feel all too familiar and he thought he might find you in a barn just the same as Sofia. But you didn't pop out the doors in any walkers veil, you weren't bloodied nor torn apart. There were no traces of anyone or anything in those forests.

You simply disappeared.

And it left them in another night of quiet.

Spoons scraping agaisnt cans, the faint sound of chewing. A tiny droplet of rain hitting a window pane or two.

That was all.

No one spoke, yet they all sat around a room cramped with anxious bodies.

Sasha's leg brushed against her guns outline, her boots rubbed together, her tongue flicked at her teeth and she felt as if her thoughts were vibrating the inside of her skull, riling her from the depths. There was an eerily absence of anything positive, because at this point no one was expecting good news.

Gabriel's execution was more or less inevitable as each of the nights rolled by. There'd be the lingering aura of danger and anticipation due to the preachers remaining presence. But no one ever mentioned it, let alone had the will to.

It was hard to digest the concept of your loss because not a single one of them wanted to bury you, the group preferred to be broken and you had become like an integral part of what bound them.

Food was beginning to dwindle down the line of low and low to nonexistent.

And as they sat there, in silence, there was collective knowing resonating around them that this would be the last night they spent in the church.

Not that anyone dared to speak it, not even Rick, who gazed afar into the burning light of a candle and contemplated.

Carol noticed first, maybe it was her nose, fine tuned for the scent of trouble and like a dog trailing a rabbit, she jumped up with a clatter and darted towards the front door.

But she didn't even get halfway across the church, with Rick trailing closely behind her, along with the others who were all clammering to their feet, when the doors burst open on their own, the cool whip of wind entering the room as the room itself seemed to rise up in temperature.

There, with a trail of blood drops, a scarily dehydrated and filthy body fell into her arms.

It was you.

And the sigh of relief felt as if you breathed the air back into everyones lungs. It reanimated the whole church.

[b1xi]

𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙩, 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧

Glenn rhee x reader

Word count:3752

Warninig: fluff, dead, blood

Pt2 , Pt3

You ran as fast as your legs would allow, stumbling up the stairs while trying not to fall. Behind you, the growls and gasps of the creatures—those who were once your neighbors—roared loudly, almost deafeningly. The upper floors offered no solace; the walls were splattered with blood, silent witnesses to a recent massacre. The air was thick, heavy with death and despair, and each step brought you closer to the unknown, to a possible trap or, perhaps, an unlikely salvation.

By the time you reached the fifth floor, the situation had become even more macabre. Two of those monsters, turned into insatiable predators, were devouring the mangled body of someone you had likely known in life. Horror gripped you; a scream formed in your throat, but you stifled it by covering your mouth with a trembling hand. You knew that the slightest noise could condemn you. There was no time for mourning or compassion. There was only one mission: survival.

Desperately, you looked around for an escape. The growls were getting closer. With no other options, you slipped into an apartment with an ajar door. Once inside, you moved cautiously, your hands gripping the small knife you carried, a pitiful defense but at least something to make you feel somewhat protected.

The living room showed no obvious signs of violence, except for some bloodstains that extended into the bathroom. You took a deep breath and headed for the kitchen, your heart pounding in your chest, searching for anything that might be useful. After a few minutes, you had gathered a small stash: cans of food, soda crackers, snacks, and water. It wasn't much, but it could make the difference between life and death. As you rummaged through the drawers for something more useful, a particular sound startled you.

The sharp cry of a baby broke the silence, coming from one of the rooms at the back. You stood still for a moment, trying to convince yourself that you had imagined it, but the crying persisted. You knew ignoring it wasn't an option. With hesitant steps, you moved towards the source of the sound, stopping in front of a door decorated with a small heart-shaped sign bearing the name "Alice." You pushed the door gently, revealing a pink-painted nursery, filled with drawings and toys scattered on the floor.

In the center of the room stood a white crib, and there, wrapped in blankets, a baby cried inconsolably. Her little face was reddened from the effort of crying, seeking attention, company... protection.

"Damn it," you whispered, this time with more resignation than fear. You looked around, hoping that at any moment someone—perhaps the baby's mother—would come running through the door. But no one came. Anxiety gripped your chest. You knew leaving little Alice there was a certain death sentence. The baby's cries already resonated as an open call to the monsters prowling the building.

With no other options, you took the baby in your arms. Her crying was desperate and incessant, and each passing second made you imagine that the things outside were drawing closer, attracted by the noise. As you rocked her gently back and forth, her sobs began to calm. Her tiny hands clung tightly to your shirt, and gradually, the crying turned into soft whimpers until, finally, it ceased. You sighed with relief, but the tension didn't fully dissipate. Every second was crucial.

You left the room with stealthy steps, Alice wrapped in your arms. The silence of the apartment was oppressive, and the feeling of being watched never left you. Keeping your gaze upwards, you walked down the hallway, vainly searching for any sign of life in the other rooms. But there was nothing. The place seemed deserted.

The bathroom, however, caught your attention. The door was locked, but through the gap beneath it, a faint beam of light filtered in. Something or someone was on the other side. You approached cautiously and pressed your ear against the wood, and horror overwhelmed you. A low, menacing growl resonated from inside, followed by a rasping sound: claws scratching the door.

You instinctively recoiled, fear freezing your blood. Whatever was trapped inside was not human. There was no doubt. Those creatures had reached this place, and surely whoever was locked in there would find a way out soon.

You quickly considered your options, aware that you couldn’t stay. The building was no longer safe, and probably neither was the city. Chaos was spreading like an uncontrollable fire. There was no alternative but to flee before nightfall made the streets even more dangerous. The creatures became more active at dusk, and the cover of darkness would only increase their numbers.

With trembling hands, you found a larger bag and filled it with essentials: supplies, some clean clothes, and everything you might need to care for your new companion, Alice. You fashioned an improvised sling and secured her gently against your chest. Her calm breathing contrasted with your own racing heart.

Leaving the building was easier than you had imagined. The creatures were scattered, hunting on other floors or in the streets. Moving with stealth and determination, you made your way to your car, parked not far from the main entrance. With Alice secured to your chest, you quickly got in and started the engine.

Three weeks had passed since you left the city. Those days felt like an endless nightmare. The first two weeks had been particularly exhausting: the roads were blocked with abandoned cars and wandering corpses, and you had no choice but to continue on foot. You walked through forests, taking shortcuts when you could, though it only heightened your paranoia. The constant crunching of leaves under your feet, the distant sounds of the infected, and the ever-present danger of being surprised kept you on high alert.

Dealing with Alice was another challenge. The baby cried incessantly, her relentless hunger forcing you to stop more often than you would have liked. Sometimes, you could only pray to find a safe place to rest. Sleeping was not an easy option; every nighttime noise, every shadow moving in the dark, was a potential threat.

As you pressed on, the physical and mental exhaustion began to take its toll. You wondered how much longer you could keep going. Alice needed more than you could offer alone. However, as if some higher power had heard your silent pleas, things changed the day you encountered the group.

It happened while you were exploring an abandoned house, desperate for food or diapers for Alice. Hunger and exhaustion were becoming unbearable, and each step felt like a burden. Entering a dusty room, the air thick with humidity and mildew, you were struck by the emptiness. The weight of reality hit you hard: there was nothing. You leaned against the wall for a moment, struggling against despair.

That’s when you saw him: a rugged man with a face hardened by life, holding a crossbow with an unsettling firmness. You had no idea how long he had been there, watching you. Instinctively, you stepped back, raising your hands in a gesture of surrender. The cold steel of his gaze pierced through you, and fear took hold. You were cornered, unsure if this encounter would mean the end.

The man did not lower his weapon but took a step closer, studying your every move. “Are you from the city?” he asked in a deep, authoritative voice. His tone made it clear that he was used to taking control of situations. His eyes quickly scanned the space behind you, as if expecting someone else to emerge from behind you. But he saw nothing.

The lump in your throat made it hard to speak, and for a moment, you thought your legs might give way. You could only nod, hoping it would be enough to placate him. The man kept his gaze fixed on you, evaluating, measuring every detail.

“Are you alone, or is there someone else with you?” he asked again, not softening his tone. Before you could answer, a second man appeared in the room. He was younger, with Asian features, and seemed to be with the first, as the latter showed no surprise upon seeing him. The younger man carried another weapon, though his posture

“There’s no one with me,” you managed to say, your voice trembling as you tried to stay calm. But at that moment, you felt Alice shift in the carrier, as if she was about to wake up. The faint movement of the baby immediately caught both men’s attention.

The younger Asian man slowly lowered his weapon, his expression softening as he assessed the situation. There was something in his gaze, perhaps empathy, or maybe just exhaustion. The crossbow man, however, did not immediately change his expression. His eyes dropped to the small bundle against your chest, and for a moment, the tension in the room became unbearable.

“Is that… a baby?” the young man murmured, incredulous. It seemed he hadn’t seen something so small and delicate in a long time.

You nodded once more, unconsciously tightening your hold on Alice, trying to protect her as best as you could. “Yes… it’s just her and me,” you replied with more confidence than you actually felt.

“What’s your name?” asked the young Asian man, his voice softer than the armed man’s.

“My name is Y/N, and she is Alice,” you answered, feeling a slight calm beginning to settle inside you. You gently stroked Alice’s back, trying to keep her calm. Still, you couldn’t ignore the discomfort caused by the young man’s continuous gaze.

“I’m Glenn, and this is Daryl,” Glenn introduced himself, taking a step toward you and extending a friendly hand. Although you appreciated the gesture, you opted to keep your distance, your survival instinct still on high alert. Glenn noticed your hesitation and lowered his hand, not offended but maintaining his friendly tone.

Daryl, however, had not entirely lowered his guard. His crossbow was still ready, though now aimed at the ground. The tension in his jaw and the coldness in his eyes kept you on edge. The air felt dense, heavy, as if something could go wrong at any moment.

Glenn placed a firm but calm hand on Daryl’s shoulder, trying to ease the situation. “Calm down, she’s not a threat. Look at her, she’s alone with a baby. Let her breathe.” His conciliatory tone managed to soften Daryl’s stance a bit.

Daryl exhaled slowly and finally lowered the crossbow completely, though not without issuing one last warning. “Alright. But I recommend you get out of here before nightfall. It’s not safe to be out in the woods at this hour, especially with a child.” His tone made it clear that he was giving advice rather than making a threat.

You nodded quickly, aware that you didn’t have many options left. The sun was beginning to set, and although you had survived until now, you knew you couldn’t keep going alone for much longer. The city had been hell, and now the forest was proving to be just as dangerous.

“Listen, Y/N,” Glenn interrupted, his voice much softer, almost a whisper. “We have a camp not too far from here. It’s not much, but it’s well-protected, and we have supplies.” His eyes, which had been cautious before, now reflected something more. Empathy, perhaps. “You don’t have to keep wandering alone. You could stay with us. Alice would be safer there.”

His words resonated in your mind. The offer seemed too good to be true, but desperation was beginning to take over. You glanced at Alice, feeling her small, warm, and vulnerable body against yours, and realized you could no longer afford to keep testing your luck. The walkers outside would show no mercy, and you knew you’d soon run out of strength.

“I don’t want to cause any trouble,” you said, unsure. Although Glenn’s offer seemed sincere, something inside you still doubted. You had seen the worst of people in recent days, and distrust had become second nature.

“You won’t be a problem,” Glenn replied with a kind smile. “There are more people at the camp, and we’re all in this together. We can’t promise you an easy life, but we can offer you safety and some peace. At least, for a while.”

You looked at Daryl, searching for any sign that the proposal was genuine, but his expression remained impassive, as hard as a rock. However, by not objecting to Glenn’s offer, he seemed to be giving his tacit consent.

Finally, you nodded, letting a little relief seep into your thoughts. “Alright. I’ll go with you.”

After what felt like hours of walking, you finally descended a hill and before you was a scene that, in another time, would have been a mundane sight: an improvised camp with cars and a trailer. However, now, amidst the chaos, it represented a refuge, a possibility of rest, and perhaps, safety.

Glenn turned to you, noticing your exhaustion. “We’re almost there. It’s better than being out there, believe me.” He smiled, a mix of relief and concern in his gaze. Daryl, for his part, kept his distance, still vigilant with his crossbow ready, though he had stopped aiming it directly at you. He seemed to trust Glenn more than the situation.

As you emerged from the dense forest, the camp Glenn had mentioned became visible through the trees. With each step, your legs felt heavier, and the sweltering heat made sweat trickle down your forehead and body. Glenn briefly stopped to check that you were still following, offering a supportive smile, while Daryl, in his own way, stayed alert, his crossbow always at the ready.

Finally, you reached a small clearing in the forest and turned left. That’s when you saw it: the camp. Just as Glenn had said, there was a trailer blocking a slope, and next to it, a smoldering campfire. Near the campfire, a picnic table and several chairs formed an improvised circle. A bit farther away, several tents were grouped around a small path cutting through the vegetation. The place looked humble but safe.

You had taken only a few steps when a burly man with an expression of both alertness and distrust approached quickly. “What’s going on, Glenn?” he asked in a deep, firm voice. He was Shane, who seemed to be leading the group at that moment.

Glenn raised a hand to calm him. “Everything’s fine, Shane. She’s from the city. She’s alone… and has a baby.”

Shane cast a quick glance at Alice, his expression softening slightly before turning back to you. “Alone, you say?”

“Yes, we checked,” Daryl interjected, finally lowering the crossbow but not taking his analytical gaze off you.

“Well, it’s better to talk to the rest,” Shane said in a less aggressive but still firm tone. “Lori and Carol are with the kids; maybe they can help with the baby.”

You observed several people engaged in various activities. Two blonde women, one clearly older than the other, were sitting and cleaning what you assumed were freshly caught fish. Further along, a dark-skinned woman was resting next to a burly man with a serious expression, who was relaxing in one of the chairs near the campfire. On top of the trailer, an older man with a fishing hat kept a calm watch from his position, holding a rifle firmly, as if he might need it at any moment. To your right, you noticed a Latino man and another taller man wearing a cap, checking a couple of cars.

Glenn, who stayed by your side, gave you a reassuring glance before speaking. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the group.” He took a few steps forward, guiding you toward a pair of women sitting at an old picnic table.

“Hi, girls,” Glenn greeted with his usual friendly tone. “I want to introduce you to Y/N.” He made a hand gesture indicating for you to come closer.

The tall woman with brown hair, holding her son on her lap, looked up with a warm smile. “Hello,” she said as she stood up kindly. “I’m Lori, and this is my son, Carl.” She extended a friendly hand towards you, her smile genuine, as if trying to offer you some of the peace you were missing at that moment. You shook her hand in return.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Glenn then turned to the woman next to her, who had a more reserved appearance but a calm presence. “And these are Carol and her daughter, Sophia,” Glenn continued, pointing to the little blonde girl playing with a rag doll.

Carol looked up with a discreet but warm smile. “Nice to meet you, Y/N,” she said softly, while Sophia looked at you with shyness, hugging her doll a bit tighter.

Lori noticed the small sleeping bundle in your arms, and her face softened even more. “Is that… your baby?” she asked delicately, as if trying not to invade your personal space.

The question gave you a pang in your chest, and you felt a brief wave of sadness. You shook your head slowly, looking at Alice with tenderness. “No… I’m not her mother.” The words came out in a whisper laden with sorrow, reminding you of how much Alice had lost in such a short time. “Her parents… are gone.”

Lori didn’t press further or ask more questions, understanding the pain implicit in your answer. She simply nodded with a slight smile that aimed to be comforting. “She’s very cute,” she commented gently. “You’re lucky to have her with you.”

After a brief silence, Glenn took charge of the situation again, now that everyone had been introduced. “Well, let’s see if we can find a place for you.” He gestured for you to follow him, leading you to the area where the tents were set up.

Walking together along the path between the tents, Glenn gave you a smile. “You know, we don’t usually get many visitors. I think Daryl thought you were here to steal our fish,” he joked, raising an eyebrow with a small laugh.

You returned the smile, grateful for the attempt to ease the tension. “Well, if I ever get to that point, you’ll know I’m desperate.”

Glenn chuckled and nodded. “You’re right, I wouldn’t mind if it’s for survival. Although, in that case, I’d offer you one myself. I work hard to keep us stocked,” he said with a wink.

As you arrived at a small cleared area, Glenn stopped in front of his tent. “We don’t have a tent for you yet, but you can use mine until we sort something out. Don’t worry, I can sleep in the trailer, there’s enough space,” he offered without hesitation.

You gave him an incredulous look, grateful but also a bit embarrassed. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

Glenn made a casual gesture with his hand. “Don’t worry, I’ve slept in worse places than the backseat of a car. Besides, how often in life can you say you were a gentleman and offered your tent to a lady?”

You smiled, feeling a bit more relaxed with his sense of humor. “Well, I guess I’m lucky to have met a gentleman in these times.”

Glenn returned the smile, apparently pleased that his joke helped you feel more comfortable. “You know, if you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask. We’re a small community, but we take care of each other. And now that you and Alice are here, that includes you two as well.”

You felt deeply grateful for his kindness, something that already felt rare in such a shattered world. “Thank you, Glenn. It really means a lot.”

You entered the tent, grateful for the brief moment of tranquility. You knelt on the ground, observing what was in the small space: a sleeping bag, a backpack, and a couple of neatly folded clothes on one side. It was simple but cozy, and at that moment, you realized how exhausted you were. You sighed as you unfastened the harness holding Alice and gently placed her on the floor so she could move and stretch.

The baby, always restless, took advantage of her freedom and began to crawl around the small space. Despite the circumstances, seeing her curiosity about the world brought a small smile to your face. “You really need a good bath,” you commented softly, as if the little girl could understand your words. Alice, of course, simply looked at you with those lively eyes, emitting a babble as she smiled, completely oblivious to the harshness of the outside world.

With a clumsy but determined movement, Alice crawled back to you, raising her little arms as if wanting to be picked up. “Again?” you murmured, lifting the little one and holding her against your chest. “I’ve spoiled you too much, haven’t I?” you said with a slight laugh, as Alice rested her head on your shoulder, her small body immediately relaxing in your arms.

You gently stroked her back, feeling her breathing calm and steady. The need to protect her enveloped you strongly, like a silent promise you had made without even realizing it. This new place, this camp full of strangers, represented a risk, yes, but also an opportunity. An opportunity to find a respite, at least for a while, so that both of you could regain your strength.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. Despite the initial distrust and the evident dangers of the outside world, these people seemed, at least, more human than what you had encountered before. Glenn had been kind, and the others had shown no signs of rejection. There was a certain sense of community in the camp, a spark of hope that seemed hard to find in these times.

[catnteawrites]

*the first night in alexandria*

Rosita and Abraham: *heavy breathing*

Y/N and Daryl: *kissing sounds*

Maggie and Glenn: *chuckles and giggling*

Rick: "WHEN DID THIS BECOME A WHORE HOUSE???"

[misguidedasgardian]

Wildcats (Part XIX)

XIX. Keep an eye on the horizon

MASTERLIST

Summary: Thesis, Antithesis, Synthesis, that’s how it worked. 

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Zombie apocalypse AU, living dead, zombies, guts, blood, guns, injures, angst, fluff, cuddling, inaccuracy in describing places iI have never been in, MIGHT MISS SOME IMPORTANT WARNINGS, but you know what this is about. 

+18, MINORS DNI

Notes: Alrighttttt I noticed you weren’t thrilled about our decision to go to DC, but it’s gonna be fine… and Daryl won’t be in the dark for long… ANYWAYS I read a nice comment form the early chapters that said “I love reader she is so funny and badass” AND YES WE ARE, WE JUST NEED TO REMEMBER THAT, ALRIGHT? We are badasses, and she needs to “assert dominance”, and we will!. 

You grabbed your bag, with your essentials for a couple of days. 

It had been hectic, a couple of days of planning, a big map of DC, thorough planning of entrances and exits, of a plan A, B, C, you believed you managed to get to a plan M. Rick, Abraham and Rosita had given total control of the mission, letting you choose even which car to take out there, and the provisions, and of course, you consulted in them too, in all of the decisions.

Soon the night before the trip came, and you were nervous, but in a good way, in an excited way, you checked the map one more time while you were in bed, preparing mentally for everything to be disastrous, to be empty, to be destroyed, ravaged and pillaged, to not finding anything but walkers… but at the same time, you were hopeful.

Deanna had told you that she had sent a couple of people into DC, but they never got too close to the city center. 

You got startled when you felt a knock on the door, you hid the map as if you were a little kid with something you shouldn’t be, as you indicated quickly that the person who knocked could come in.

You were surprised to see Daryl there, after a week of stalking him at night time, tonight you decided to let him be, especially since tomorrow you were going to leave, and also, you didn’t want to pressure him.

“Hey”, he greeted

“Hey”, you whispered back, with a soft smile, “you went out there again?”, you asked, honestly since yesterday, when you encountered him outside the pantry, you haven't seen him much.

“Nah, I was fixing my bike”. he said, “Rick told us to stop looking fo people for a while”

“Oh”, that was news to you, ever since the dispute on the morning before his trial you had been distant with the leader of your group. Even though he seemed like his good old self the moment you asked him about going to Washington. You needed to get close with Rick again.

“What were you up to?”, he asked, seeming uncomfortable, you’d ask him to come in, but you didn’t want to scare him

“Readin”, you answered simply.

“Didn’t see you today”, he leaned against the doorframe, looking at you

“Sorry, my head was elsewhere”, you mumbled. “Did you manage to fix your bike?”, it was a  strained conversation, you could feel it. Weird too.

“Yeah”, he whispered. “Is everythin’ alright?”, he asked, and it killed you to see that glint of hope in his eyes

“Yeah”, you assured him, “it is”

“Don’t seem like it”, he mumbled

“Well, my boyfriend, or at least, who I consider my boyfriend won’t sleep with me… so I wanted to give him some space”, you explained calmly. Then you thought better of it, maybe it was too early to call him that, you felt like an idiot doing so… but something got lost in translation. What were you two anyways? is not like you were friends with benefits or crap like that…

“I am your boyfriend now?”, he mocked, lightheartedly 

“Yes you are right, it sounds childish, from now on, I’ll refer to you as my man-friend”, you said with a cheeky smile. He chuckled darkly, scratching his neck. He looked around your room, finally stepping inside. 

“Can I… stay here?”, he asked, you smiled and nodded enthusiastically

“Of course”, you said, opening his bed more for him to join you. You had become excited. He got into the bed, clothes and all. Did he even have pajamas? you had found some in the clothes the Alexandrians had given you, soft cotton, with long sleeves and legs, nothing too fancy. You made a mental note to get him some comfortable ones, he could use when he stayed in your room, or wherever.

A thing you found odd, but quite endearing when you started joining Daryl at nights… was that you seemed to fit well together all the time. Back then you barely knew each other and yet, you seemed to be made to cuddle each other. You felt your cheeks heated at the thought, and your hands a bit sweaty. 

“What were you readin?”, he asked

“Deanna gave some of Reg’s books, I found a book of poems by an artist I loved”, you said with a soft smile. He cuddled into you, and you left the poems of William Morris aside.

“Keep readin”, he begged

“It’s in my mother tongue”, you warned

“Mmmm read woman, so I can learn”, he said simply, “can’t have my girlfriend cussing me out without me knowin”, you chuckled

“You called me your girlfriend”, you giggled. He chuckled, passing an arm over your torso, hugging you, and squeezed at your teasing. You laughed harder.

“Wanna talk about it?”, you asked softly, you didn’t know how to approach him, you wanted him to tell you things, what was on his mind, you found yourself wishing you could go inside his head sometimes.. 

“Read”’, he requested softly, his head on the crook of your neck. 

Now you certainly felt guilty… For not telling him anything about the trip, but now you didn’t want to spoil the mood, so… you always had till the last minute tomorrow…

. . .

You woke up alone, which saddened you, but perhaps it was for the best… So you got up, took a long shower and got dressed. 

So now the day had finally come and you were… extremely excited. more so than being nervous, you took it as a great sign. The plans were laid down, everything was looking good, the sun was shining. You took a deep breath into the day and started walking towards the truck you had picked.  You heard behind you some hurried steps, so you turned around to meet Daryl, who looked absolutely annoyed. 

“Why did ya’ tell me?”, he asked angrily when he saw you, you sighed, “Rick told me, ya’ going to DC, he thought I knew”

“It’s nothing personal”, you said, you resume your walk, as he started walking by your side

“Feel like it is”, he said

“It’s not”, you assured him, he grabbed you by the arm softly

“Why didn’t ya tell me?”, he insisted

“I thought you were busy… with Aaron, you are the new recruiter and all”

“Don't gimme that shit”, he said, you stopped to look at him

“I want to get out there again, I’m growing roots already”, you said, “and DC is right there, we might find something good”, but you weren’t answering his question, “for some reason, every time I want to go out there, you find reasons to keep me here”, you accused, “you are out there with Aaron, he needs you, and I’m… here”, you finished 

“I wanna keep ya safe!”, he said

“Don’t you think I want to keep YOU safe?”, you asked, “but I know… I can’t just chain you to the inside of the walls here, you go out there, every damn day, and I just have to sit and pray…”

“You pray?”, he asked, you shook your head

“Now you will have to do the same, have faith…”, you finished softly. 

“You don’t want me to come”, he said, “that’s what you are saying”, he said childishly. 

“No…”, you said softly. 

“Then I’ll go”

“There is no need”, you insisted

“Aaron can keep ‘mself from goin’ out ‘ere for a couple of days”

You didn’t even know why you were being this childish. You wanted to get out there, and DC was right there, the part that confused you, is why you didn’t want Daryl to come with you, you purposefully didn’t tell him, and now you were keeping him from going

You liked him, you liked having him around, you liked kissing him, but… you felt like you needed to do this, and if he was there… you were going to be nervous, you were going to be more worried about him, -not that he needed to be cared for though-, more than doing what you wanted to do, more than finding what you were looking for

And more than that… you wanted to test it, to spend a few days away, what will happen to him, to you, to what this was between you. You needed a few days to think, to gain perspective

But he was not going to let you go without him, looks like it.

“Why do you want to go?”, you asked, “it's a huge city, we might be going into a huge trap”

“Why do you wanna go?”, he asked then

“I want to make a big supply run, and not only supplies, but… maybe… intel run, maybe we find someone out there”

“Wha’ like the president?”, he mocked

“Or like a fucking army”, you said then, “scientists…”

“I’ll go with you”, you shook your head

“You need to be here, with our people”

“Why?”

“They might need you”, you said, “Rick… I’m taking Abraham and Rosita… a lot of firepower…”

“M’sure Glenn will stay”, he said

“I need you to stay”, you said more firmly, “I think if we both go and don’t make it, the group will fall apart”

“I dun’ want ya’ to get killed out ‘ere!”, he said, exasperated

“I won’t!”, you assured him

“I dun give a damn what happens here if you ain’t here!”, he said, exasperated, he actually surprised you with that, “M’goin”

“Daryl”

“(y/n)”, he called back. You shared looks, “I’m goin”, he said, and you barely nodded

“Fine”, you snapped

“Fine”, he echoed 

“But don’t you ever try to stop me from doing something, alright?”, you warned, “And I’m leading this mission!”,

“Fine”, he repeated

“Fine!”, you said, and you walked away from here. “Get your things!”, you said, you turned to see Rick and Tyresse watching the scene, with smiles on their faces, “traitor!”, you accused Rick, pointing at him with your finger

“If he goes, I’ll be calmer”, he said, his hands on his belt. 

You then met Abraham and Rosita

“Daryl is joining us”, you said with a forced smile. It was supposed to be Glenn, but now you realized they all had been plotting against you.

He joined you soon after, only carrying his crossbow and a crossed bag. 

“I’m the leader of this mission”, you said to the group, but specially to Daryl, “as such you’ll have to do as I say”

“Yes Ma’am”, he drawled, with an amused look on his face. 

“As Rosita and Abraham will know by now, I will hear opinions and ask for advice”, you said, you didn’t want to come out bossy, BUT… you needed to lead, that is what this was all about, sort of. A weak leader was one of the most dangerous things, especially in missions like this.

You stood in front of the truck and you opened the map you had procured.

“We go in one car, hoping to bring in more”, you said, “as we discussed, we take the 95 that will merge into the 1, in the first step in our mission… the pentagon”

“WHAT?”, asked Daryl, you looked at him with a warning in your eyes, and he raised his hands in surrender. It did sounded like a movie, but… that was the center of intelligence, there must be something there. 

“Then we cross the Potomac right to the center, if the war against the dead developed similarly as the other cities we have seen… we will find rest of the military there we can scavenge”, you said, “then into the CDC”, you said drawing into the map, “for the second item of this mission, intel…”, you said, “and for the third and fourth items… supplies and medicine, amongst the ten block radio around the monuments we will find three shopping malls and others, of course, I expect them to be completely scavenged by this point, so for that… in comes the plan B, we cross Anacosita river, into the Joint Base Andrews, see what we can find there, around, are some good neighborhoods we can scavenge in case we don’t have anything by then… ”

“Fine”, mumbled Daryl, seemingly impressed.

“Then from there we take the 495 back home”, you said triumphantly. “Let’s go”, you announced, Rick had sneaked in, hearing the entire conversation.

He hugged you, surprising you

“Come back”, he whispered in your ear, you nodded

“I will”, you assured him.

“You have 96 hours”, said Rick, “if you’re not back by then, we will go looking for you”

“Fine”, you said, smiling softly.

You said your goodbyes, all of your group was there, and even Deanna. Oh you really hoped you were right with this hunch. That you were not leading them into your untimely deaths. 

That’s why it needed to go well.

You checked your gun for the tenth time, and the magazine was full, you sharpened your ax, you had a first aid kit on you, in your backpack, all the things you could need…

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine”, said Rosita, “we trust you”, she said and you smiled nervously at her

You were dying to drive, but you let Abraham do it instead, you were delegating, that’s what leaders do, Rosita rode shotgun, and you and Daryl in the back.

You felt his gaze on you, so you preferred to watch the map obsessively, and then the outside. It was a nice day, sunny, but not hot, comfortable. You took a long breath.

Were you leading your family to their deaths?

“I was actually in Washington in the 90’s”, said Abraham, “I remember it as it was yesterday”

“Did you?”, you asked.

“Yes, I have a good layout of the city right up here in my coconut”, you all laughed 

“Good to know”, you laughed. And you knew he was trying to relax you.

Yes, uncharted territory. Washington was a big city, furthest from the top ten of most populated cities in the US, but still. And it was evacuated… this could be a “gold mine”, as it where….the answer to many of your problems. 

You felt Daryl’s gaze on you, so you returned the stare. You knew you had hurt him, by keeping this from him, you had to make it right.

“I’m sorry for not telling you”, you whispered, he only hummed, “I knew you were going to try and keep me there”

“S’fine”, he mumbled

“No it’s not, I lied to you”, you said, “and I’m sorry”. you meant it, he looked at you right in the eyes and nodded

“S’ok”, he said with a nod, you grabbed his hand, he interlocked his finger with yours and he squeezed gently. 

You were glad you had him with you right now, you didn't know what you were thinking, not telling him about this, not wanting him to come. 

. . .

It was like in the movies.

As you got out of the truck and looked over the government building. The center of intelligence of the US. The pentagon. It was huge, but empty, even though, it looked in perfect condition. not a single window was broken. 

Everything was like they just left the day before, as you entered slowly. It had been evacuated… promptly. A lot of offices… you didn't know what you expected of the building. 

“Its the second largest office building in the world”, said Abraham proudly, as you sneaked inside.

Again, you didn't know what you expected, if moats and secret passages, but it looked like a normal building, an office building, like five buildings one inside of another. this kind of intel, what was the government doing in certain years, was not going to help you know… 

This thing was like a maze, and it was dangerously quiet, not a walker on sight, and -if that made any sense-, made it even scarier. As you went into offices, you noticed all the file cabinets were empty, nor a paper on sight…

You made the call of not splitting, yes you were going to take four times as longer, but that was the call you had made, you weren’t splitting, so you went trough the offices more thoroughly and faster too.

You remembered every action movie you had seen, so, only looking under desks you had gathered a good number of loaded handguns. 

So far, so good. You went into the same side of the building, through six different buildings towards the center, and you managed to gaze upon the main courtyard, you saw it.

“So that’s what they did with all the intel”, muttered Abraham. it was all burnt to the very ground, was used to be a nice yard, you’d imagine, it was all burnt. as were the millions of documents that used to be in the offices.

“I guess even after all that, after the dead rose from their graves, they had priorities”, you mumbled. 

“Let’s find the defense secretary offices”, mumbled Abraham. 

You found a shit ton of handguns, but nothing more of interest, except for a bending machine with pretty much untouched candy, your favorite. You bagged those pretty quickly. 

You felt Daryl’s presence always behind you or on your side, but he didn't question any decision you made and you were grateful, you were becoming more excited as you advanced through the building. 

“So… what's the move, boss?”, asked Abraham, as you started to wander through the huntingly similar hallways.

“We have more handguns than people in Alexandria”, you said with your heavy bag on your back. “Let’s move on to the city center”, you said softly, “before it gets dark, I don’t want to be trapped inside here with no power and no light”. You said quickly. Then you looked at their determined faces, “is that alright?”, you asked then, doubting your own decision. 

“Yes”, said Rosita, and you got into a defensive position, walking back towards the entrance of the building, having scouted two sides of it, although you had come across places you couldn’t access due to lack of power and access cards. 

You couldn’t deny you were excited to be in the capital, you had sneaked into one of the coolest buildings in the US, but you were so on survival mode that you forgot to be hyped about it. 

“Don’t be afraid to boss us around”, said Abraham, placing one of his hands on your shoulder as you were walking out, he was as entertained as you, “we signed up for this”, you nodded, convinced. 

“Than you”

“You are making good calls”, he said with a nod

“Don’t say that yet”, you mumbled. 

You took a couple of walkers that were coming for you from the parking lot, and you got into the truck again.

Abraham tossed you the keys

“Your turn boss”, he said, chuckling, and Rosita got up in the back seats, and you and Daryl on the front. You took a long breath. It's been a while since you hadn't driven. But it was like riding a bike, you never forget it. 

You were invigorated by the success so far, so you started the truck.

“It’s a stick”, mumbled Daryl by your side, doubting your skills

“So it is”, it ran without trouble. as you put the truck in motion in 1st, and then 2nd. Daryl seemed impressed. “What?”, you teased, “I know how to drive stick”, he just smiled at you. “Lead me please”

“Yes Ma’am”, he said, opening the map. 

The roads were mostly intact, so far, as were the big bridges that went over the Potomac river. This city hasn't been bombed like Atlanta had, and it was mostly intact from what you could see, just inhabited.

The Washington monument stood tall, you were embarrassed to admit you got distracted watching it and almost ran over a walker and you got out of the way.

“Ups”, you mumbled. As Daryl chuckled. You had not trouble running over a dead one, BUT, it could jeopardize the truck, it could break it, so you did not intend on doing that if you had the road space to fo around it, “Sorry about that”.

“Can’t believe we’re here after all this time”, said Rosita with a big smile.

“It’s surreal”, you whispered. You felt something strange, in the truck you meant. “Does this thing have 4-wheel drive?”, you asked Abraha,, who just chuckled

“Don’t think so”, it was an old truck. But you felt it heavy… You looked through the rearview mirror to the back of the truck where your bags where, but you knew for a fact, that even with the guns, you didn’t bring anything heavy-er… and when you saw something move back there, you hit the brakes so hard you learned like three new curse words in spanish

“WHAT THE HELL?”, asked Daryl, who might as well have crashed into the console.

“You got ourselves a stowaway”, you grunted. 

You took your gun and your ax and jumped out of the truck after opening the door and that is what got them all in alert, jumping out too. You were still over the bridge. the coast was clear,

You grabbed the thick tarp made of cloth you had to cover your things, and there he was, trembling in fear

“Eugene!?”, asked Rosita.

“Hey”, he muttered

“Damn”, muttered Abraham, then he looked at you, “how did you know?”, he asked, you just smiled

“Eugene why didn’t you tell us?”, asked Daryl, helping him out of the back of the truck

“It was a last minute call and I didn’t want you to change plans, and I thought if I did this… and you wouldn’t notice… it would be safer”

“That makes no sense”, you said, “you should have told us”

“He has a point”, muttered Rosita, and she did, this was planned for four, not five, you should have taken another car.

“I want it to see it”, he said, pointing at the monument, “but I also wanted Daryl to come and protect us”, he said, you frowned, “so he could protect you while Rosita and Abraham protect me”, he said straight to you

“I am really in the “I need protection” team?”, you asked, that insulted you a bit. You thought you were holding your ground, and not in the ”weaker” part of the team.

“No you are not!”, said Rosita, who had been giving you lessons in hand to hand combat.

“Fine, I’m sorry”, as a leader you needed to learn to make decisions when situations like this presented themselves.

“Abraham?”, you called, “Ride in the back, with our biggest gun, that view will alert us if something is strange, watch out for snipers”, you told him, in a very professional manner

“Yes Ma’am”, he said, climbing into the back

“Remember our code in the RV?”, you asked him, “two taps for slowing down, three taps for stopping, one long one to watch out”

“Indeed”, he said. You then turned to Eugene

“Well, like I said, too many times already, you are under my command”, you said Eugene and he nodded quickly, “and under my protection”, he opened his eyes widely, “let’s go, before it gets dark we need to find a safe place to spend the night”, you said surely. 

And, with a slight change of plans, you entered the very center of Washington DC.

With no idea what waited for you there. 

taglist! <3

@crazyunsexycool @capricxnt

[honey-ros3ss]

I can't

Previous

It's been 3 days since you had seen Daryl since the argument. You were starting to believe he hadn’t really cared since he hasn't showed up. You hadn't told anyone about the situation because if you did you'd cry. Not knowing what to do you got comfortable on the sofa and started reading 'Desire Unchanted'.

After a couple minutes of reading there was a sudden knock on the door without giving it thought, you opened the door to be faced with Rosita and baby Socorro. You immediately light up at the sight of them. "Hello mamas, how are you?" You say in a sweet baby voice to Coco. "I wish you would greet me like that everyday" Rosita chuckled. You laughed and hugged Rosita letting them in.

" How have you been, I haven't seen you outside like you usually are?" You sighed "I've been through hell for the past couple of days" . "Why, what happened?" You raised your brows and blew air "oof well let's start with... I found out I'm pregnant 2 weeks ago..." "WHAT, oh my god, congratulations! Does Daryl know??" She said with a smile beaming on your face but seeing your not so happy expression it slowly faltered. "How do you feel about it are you happy?"

"I am but.., when I went to go see Daryl a couple of days ago", tears started swelling in your eyes as Rosita got up to sit next to you, Coco instantly reached out for you as you lifted her to your lap. " I had the box to give to him but before I could he told me had something to tell me" your voice hitched at the thought of it, "he basically told me he cheated on me, a whole argument broke out but it felt like I was talking to a wall, so really I was just arguing with myself, before I left I threw the box over to him and just left.

Your face was now stained with hot tears. Rositas face was in disbelief, " hijo de su puta madre (son of a bitch), how could he- why would he!?" "That's what I said but he told me nothing, I told him to come find me because I was done, it's been three days since, and I blame myself because I feel like I wasn't good enough" . "Hey! Don't say that he's the stupid one who wasn't good enough for YOU, he was to blind to see the best woman for him so don't blame yourself for his actions".

You looked up at her with a sly smile "Thank you Rosa" you say leaning your head on your shoulder, "anytime I'm always here when you need me" she assured resting her head atop of yours.

After sitting for a couple of minutes she got up picking up Coco from your lap "you know what instead of just sitting here let's do something, how about we cook?" You beamed with joy at the mention of food "ooo yes, we have to ask Carol for her book".

Walking out the house you bumped into something hard, looking up you saw it was none other than Daryl. Your body tensed as you made eye contact with him. "Can we talk?" You turn to face Rosita as she's making daggers at him, "Rosa how about you go get the stuff ready and I'll come and get you?" She nodded her head , walking forward slightly nudging Daryl in the shoulder as she left.

You nodded your head to let Daryl in. You stared at him waiting for him to speak. "Can we sit?" "Mhm" . As you both sat across from each other he handed you a bag, you looked into to it and seen it was baby items, a small smile appeared on your face "thank you".

"Y/N I jus' wanna start of with I'm sorry for what I did t' you, I'm sorry fo' what I put yea' through the last couple of days. Wha' I did has no ex'cuse, but that night was meaningless t'a me. It was a huge m'stake riskin' what we have. I can wait as long as yea' need me t'a. I want t'a make it right I want t'a make it work fo' our kid and us I kno' it's gonna take time but I can wait as long as yea' need me t'a hope yea' can f'give me. Because I still love you."

You sat there for a second tears threatening to spill but not falling. Taking in a shaky breath, exhaling with a big blow you spoke.

" I know you're sorry Daryl I know you are, but what you did, it did mean something because there has to be a reason to why you did it. That's something I still want you to explain to me. And you don't have to worry about having to make it work for our kid because we are going to no matter what. And yes it's going to take a while but Daryl I can't..."

"I can't forgive you just yet because, it still hurts, although I'm hurt, I'm not going to deny the fact that I still love you because we have together for years"

" I jus' needed somethin' at tha' moment an' she was there, I don' kno' any other way to say it was jus; in the momen' "

With a nod you took in a deep intake of breath and got up, Daryl doing the same, walking outside closing the door behind you. "I appreciate it a lot Daryl so thank you. "

" I couldn't jus' leave yea' withou' n' explanation."

Looking up at him you gently wrapped your arms around his neck as he wrapped his arms around your waist just holding each other for a moment. Whispering to you he said "im gonna' make it up to yea'. " " I know you will." Pulling away, you asked " so how do you feel about the whole situation?" You said moving your hands around your stomach.

"I'm alrigh' sorta excited to meet lil bean" "Little Bean?" "Mmm wha'ever" "No no I like little bean" you said giggling, " As much as I would like to talk about 'little bean' I have to go to Carol's."

"mhmm, yea' think I can come by later in the week" "Yes you can Daryl it's still your house." "mk I'll see ya' then" " alrighty bye" you said waving. Turning to walk the opposite direction he was your heart was still aching, but glad he finally spoke to you.

this took me way to fucking long bruh, Im not sure if I even like it 😭 but I hope yall enjoyed it sorry for like the 2 week delay LMAO

taglist : @walker-bait-1973 @littlelovingideas @blackvelveteen1339 @lunajay33 @pandarooooo-blog @sweetz1919 @targaryenmoony @daryldixmedown @cant-help-simping

[writella]

Thinking about when you can’t decide between Daryl and Rosita so the three of you help each other out— ♡

Daryl Dixon x afab!reader x Rosita Espinosa. Daryl’s a bit soft here, but it’s just because he’d do anything for you. Smut. 18+. wc: under 750.

It all started with your lips on his, then hers… you don’t exactly remember how it began, but you allowed it, you kept going.

Honestly, your surprise faded away quicker than you thought as you turned to Daryl. Soft and sweet pleading in your eyes as you silently asked him if this was okay, if he would help you, if he would join in.

So he nodded quietly, Rosita on the other hand was already pushing the straps of your top to the side, kissing your shoulder and collarbone anyway. He let it go, for you.

He met her eyes as well when she came up for a moment. She took the go ahead to take off your shirt and then her own. She smiled widely. This would be fun.

All three of you sat on the sofa with your clothes discarded now.

The wetness you felt between your thighs was one you never felt before. The two bodies that sat on opposite sides of you speaking to every inch of your heart you were left immovable. And in this instance, Daryl wouldn’t move either until he knew what you wanted first, so Rosita was yet again the more fearless one to help initiate you three into the next step.

Her hand slowly made its way up your thigh to tease you. Her fingers now tracing your lips up and down, feeling the bits of wetness that were already peeking out below until she finally pressed a finger onto your clit.

You grabbed onto Daryl’s hand tight, and he held onto you, giving you reassurance.

You feel ready now.

Rosita’s fingers slipped into your hole as you let go of Daryl’s hand, your fingers now gently lacing around his cock. Your free hand goes to Rosita’s pussy, feeling up her own wetness. Your eyes glow toward hers. You made her feel that way. You start to rub and pinch at her clit and she rocks into your hand.

Both Daryl and Rosita spread your legs wide, watching her rub deep circles into you. You grind against her fingers faster, the thought of getting to rub her clit, and her rubbing yours as you stroke Daryl’s cock made you moan gutturally.

Daryl’s hand now goes below Rosita’s as he inserts a finger and then two inside of you. It leaves you speechless. Only sweet sounds and pathetic pants were let out as you looked below: her pretty fingers on your sticky clit and his thick ones in your drenched hole. You moan again, the words coming deep from your firing heart, “oh. my. god.”

You tried to continue to stroke him and press quick circles on her swollen clit, but it was all getting too hard, too much to focus on. Their hands on you made the two of yours spasm, your movements slowing. You whined, telling them you were sorry. You felt like you weren’t doing as well as they were.

“Aw, feels too good, baby?” Rosita asks. There was mischief, but no malice in her voice. She liked how overstimulated you were getting as she watched you become so blissed out for her and your boyfriend.

Daryl kisses the side of your shoulder, rubbing his nose there gently, he doesn’t blame you either. He takes your hand that was on him, licking a wet stripe from your palm to your fingertips before placing it on his base again. His hand now lightly wraps over yours that’s on him. It’s just a slight hover, but it helps. You’re stroking him together.

Rosita follows: her free fingers coming to meet yours over her clit. She presses against you hard to push deep circles into hers as she rocks, until she slides your fingers down to meet her hole. Her hand helps you pump in and out. A quick “Ah,” turns into an “mmm,” and she tilts her head back on the sofa. Her other hand on you returns to its motions on your clit, getting the same reactions from you.

As much as you’re getting from this, it almost feels like you’re being used… The two touching your body, making you wet, the three of you smiling and grunting and moaning because of it? Them using their hands to make you touch them exactly in the way they want?

You were in love with it.

You were theirs.

Completely.

“Keep going,” you say breathlessly; your throat almost choking up from the moan you withheld to tell them: “Please… wanna come for both of you.”

I don’t know how anyone’s hands are not cramping, so I’ll just blame it on the fact that this is a daydream. Anyway, I missed you all!!!

[bked0n-lorazepam]

My Requests are open!

Hi guys, I know it's been a while, but I'm back, and with new people who I'll be happy to write for you; here's my list!

The Walking Dead:

Rick Grimes, Carl Grimes, Daryl Dixon, Negan Smith, Glenn Rhee, Maggie Rhee, Enid Rhee, Michonne, Rosita, Simon, Abraham, Carol, Jesus "Paul", Shane, Sasha, Dwight, Beth

House MD:

Gregory House, Lisa Cuddy, James Wilson, Allison Cameron, Robert Chase, Eric Foreman, "Thirteen"

CreepyPasta:

Jeff The Killer, Toby Rogers, BEN Drowned, Eyeless Jack, Laughing Jack, Jane The Killer, Nina The Killer, Hoodie, Masky, Liu, Sally

Slashers/Creepos:

Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Chucky/Charles Lee Ray, Brahms Heelshire, Michael Myers, Jason Vorhees, BeetleJuice

Criminal Minds:

Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, Elle Greenaway, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, Penelope Garcia, Tara Lewis, Cat Adams, George Foyet

White Collar:

Peter Burke, Elizabeth Burke, Neal Caffrey, Alex Hunter, Diana Berrigan, Lauren Cruz, Clinton Jones

Hannibal NBC:

Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter, Alana Bloom, Beverly Katz, Freddie Lounds

Marvel Universe:

Loki Laufeyson, Mobius Mobius, Thor Odinson, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker (Tobey Maguire, Andrew Garfied, and Tom Holland), MJ Watson, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton, Prince T'Challa, Princess Shuri, Okoye, Carol Danvers, Gamora, Peter Quill, Nebula

IT (2017 and 2019):

Patrick Hockstetter, Henry Bowers, Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, Bill Denbrough, Ben Hanscom, Mike Hanlon, Beverly Marsh, Stanley Uris, Pennywise

Stranger Things:

Eleven, Mike Wheeler, Steve Harrington, Joyce Byers, Jonathon Byers, Jim Hopper, Max Mayfield, Nancy Wheeler, Robin Buckley, Karen Wheeler, Dr. Brenner, Argyle, Billy Hargrove

Once Upon a Time:

Rumplestiltskin, Emma Swan, Prince Charming, Snow White, Regina Mills, Henry Mills, Killian Jones, Baelfire, Robin Hood, Peter Pan, Belle, August/Pinocchio, Ruby/Red, Zelena

Good Omens:

Crowley, Aziraphale, Gabriel, Anathema Device, Newton "Newt" Pulsifer, Beelzebub, Muriel

Avatar:

Jake Sully, Neytiri, Kiri (No smut), Lo'ak (No smut), Neteyam (No smut)

The Boys:

Homelander, Billy Butcher, Becca Butcher, Frenchie, Hughie Campbell, Mothers Milk, Queen Maeve, Starlight, A-Train, Deep, Black Noir, Firecracker, Kimiko "The Female", Ashley Barret, Ryan Butcher (No smut), Victoria Neuman, Soldier Boy

And that's it so far! I'll add more as I go, I swear <3

[dixonsfawn]

𝐃𝐈𝐗𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓’𝐒 𝟑𝐊 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

── .✦ in honour of me reaching 3k i wanted to do a little celly to thank you for all the love and support you’ve given me, especially as of lately. i love you all so very, very, very much ᡣ𐭩

date : celly will run from now until the 10th of jan .ᐟ

reminder : i have the right to refuse any request without further explanation , all requests must be sent in via the inbox , and please keep in mind that i have a life outside of tumblr. 18+, no minors .ᐟ

you may choose any character from my masterlist but here are some that i’m particularly vibing with atm : daryl dixon , rosita espinosa , rick grimes , steve harrington , rafe cameron , joel miller , sarah cameron , vi (arcane) , astarion ancunin.

𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩 — send in any character from my masterlist + a prompt from one of the lists ( fluff , angst , smut ) for a blurb.

𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐦 — send in any character from my masterlist + a scenario , aesthetic , or colour for a moodboard.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 — send me this with a little description about yourself , a fandom and your preferred gender for a ship.

𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐚 — send this with a game ( fmk , hot or not , top 5 , cast your mutual, etc. ) of your choosing or just come chat.

tagging moots : @amorchai , @lovebugcody , @oncasette , @websterss , @corrodedcorpses , @anqeliclust , @wroteclassicaly , @bcyhoods , @bruisedboys , @bradshawed , @thyme-in-a-bubble , @inklore , @superhoeva , @vifilms , @forevermorelovelorn , @bambidixon , @ghostlyfleur , @andieinchains , @crybabyddl , @deansbeer , @ervotica , @eternalbuckley , @fxllfaiiry , @galatially , @ladylannisterxo , @moonshapedbox , @tinyluvs , @nottsangel , @oceandriveab , @phefics , @rafesthroatbaby , @sunflowerbecca , @sapphireplums , @thevegandarkelf , @vampieteeth , @wolvisms , @inkluvs , @cosmal , @moonshapedbox , @dixons-sunshine , @thevegandarkelf , @scudslut , @bakerydoll ᡣ𐭩

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Maggie: I put the pun in punishment.

Abraham: I put the top in unstoppable.

Glenn: I put the cute in execute.

Rosita: I put the ass in class.

Y/N: Daryl put the D in me.

Daryl, swiftly walking away: I put the go in gone.

[cultofdixon]

Y/N: Are you team Edward or team Jacob

Daryl: The fuck you talkin—-

Maggie: Edward. Definitely Edward

Carol: Seriously? You look like somebody who’d like Jacob

Rosita: Hear me out. Alice

Y/N: That’s a good one

Maggie: Agreed

Daryl: What the fuck are y’all talking about

Rick: You never heard of twilight?

Daryl: HOW DO YOU KNOW