#twd x tattooed reader

[virginsexgod69]

Hi!! I love ur work for Daryl. I was wondering if you could write a daryl dixon oneshot where maybe him and the reader find an abandoned tattoo parlor while out on a supply run and reader gives him a tattoo and eventually that leads to smut! 🩷

❝ Inked ❞

pairing Daryl Dixon x F!Reader

cw established relationship, smut, unprotected p in v, pet names, pussy eating, needles (for tattoos), idk how to do tattoos so i apologize in advance for any inaccuracies

note omg i had a jolly good time writing this! tysm for the request =] i did lowkey tweak it slightly, but nothing major, i pinky promise

2.1k words

“I don’t think there’s anything else we can get outta this place,” you commented as you placed the only can- a can of cranberry sauce from who knows how long ago- into your backpack. You looked around, only seeing more bare shelves and Daryl. You smiled, a natural reaction you had whenever you saw him. He wrapped his strong arm around your shoulder, pulling you close before placing a kiss to your hairline. 

“We should take a look a’ these other stores ‘fore we start headin’ back,” he suggested as he guided you out the store, arm still wrapped snugly around you. You nodded your head in silent agreement, following beside him. It was hard to tell what most of the other buildings were since they were all dirty with broken or boarded up windows, but one in particular caught your eye. 

“Hey, look! A tattoo shop,” you pointed at the building, “Let’s go check it out!” You hurried toward it, semi-dragging Daryl with you. 

“The hell we gonna find at a tattoo shop?” He asked, seeming genuinely confused at why the hell you’d wanna go. 

“Hopefully more than some nasty ass canned cranberry sauce.” He couldn’t disagree with you there, so he fell in line with your fast paced steps toward the shop. 

 You both entered the shop with knives drawn in case any walkers decided to stumble out of the shadows. Nothing came when the two of you made noise in an attempt to draw them out, so you sheathed your knife and went all the way inside, Daryl in tow. The shop was small, which allowed the sunlight shining through the window to fill it. The walls were covered in framed pictures of tattoo designs, although they were covered in dust. The shop itself was in fairly good shape, considering. You and Daryl split off in different directions in search of anything that could be brought back to the prison. You couldn’t find anything that wasn’t tattoo related, which wasn’t surprising since this was a tattoo shop. What you did find, though, was a lot more exciting. Everything that you would need to do a tattoo was all there, right in front of you. 

“Find anything?” Daryl asked once he found you again. 

“Yes and no?” 

“Wha’s that s’pose to mean?” He asked. 

“There’s still everything here to do tattoos with, isn’t that cool?” 

“We gon’ get matchin' tattoos or somethin’? He teased. 

"Not a bad idea, Dixon," you mused. You patted the seat and he sat down after setting aside his crossbow and got comfortable. You thought about what to put on him. You had so many ideas that you may as well have had none. 

"Wha's goin' on in there?" he asked. It was something that he'd say whenever he noticed you deep in thought. 

"I don't even know what to put on ya," you admitted as you traced lazy lines on his bare arm with your finger, "or where to put it."  Your face brightened when an idea finally passed through your head. You grabbed his arm and turned his hand to face upward before wiping a spot on his wrist clean with the alcohol wipe you got lucky enough to find. You unpackaged a needle before dipping it into the ink cap. Since there wasn't any power, you'd have to do a stick and poke. You were vaguely familiar with them from a time of experimentation during your teen years. With your non-dominant hand, you stretched his skin before getting to work on your design. You could feel Daryl trying to take a peek at what you were doing, but you purposely blocked his view with your head each time. You worked slowly and carefully, doing your best to make something cute despite not even being an amateur. 

“Okay, you can look now,” you muttered timidly as you handed him back his arm. You weren’t sure if he’d like it or not and were starting to regret not finding a pen and making a sketch to run by him for approval first. But, it was too late now and all you could do was hope for the best. He brought his wrist closer to his face to get a better look. It was simple, a small love heart with his first initial plus yours. It looked like something a girl would doodle in her notebook while daydreaming about her crush. 

“S’cute,” he said as he admired the tattoo with a small, but genuine, smile on his face. His bright blue eyes looked up at you, filled with all the love and adoration in the world. “I love it.” You couldn’t help but smile at him. “You wanna gimme a matching one?” You joked, referencing his earlier comment. He glanced out the window, the sun was setting and it was likely you and him would have to spend the night here if he and you stayed for one more tattoo. Some privacy with you, alone, away from everyone at the prison sounded like heaven, and matching tattoos were a bonus. 

“Sure.” He got out of the seat and you got in. 

“You wan’ it in the same place?” 

You thought about it for a second. “I want it somewhere special, in a place for only you to see.” The rosy tint that blossomed on his cheeks wasn’t missed by you. You found it endearing how he sometimes grew flustered at your flirtation, despite it being nothing new. 

“Yeah? Where’s that?” He asked. 

“I dunno, Daryl. You pick,” you insisted with a smug look upon your face. He made quick work of unbuttoning your jeans and you lifted your hips to assist him in pulling them down all the way to your ankles. He stepped away and grabbed a new needle and ink. With another alcohol wipe, he cleaned a spot on your inner thigh before comfortably situating himself on his knees between your legs. You felt the small, frequent pokes of the needle as he got to work on the tattoo. Seeing him on his knees between your thighs made your stomach flutter. You knew that was his favorite place to be and having the tattoo there seemed like he was marking it as his own. As he was working, his hand accidentally brushed against your clit, eliciting a whine from you. He paused his work and glanced up at you, struggling to hide the smirk that tugged at his lips. You avoided his eye and he got back to work, but his hand bumped your clit more often. Each time left you desperate for more. You so badly wanted to close your legs and rub your thighs together or reach down and get yourself off, but you had to stay still. His hand brushed against you once more, causing you to squirm a little. 

“Keep still.” 

You glared down at him. “I’m trying to, but you keep-” He did it again and this time you were one hundred percent sure it was on purpose. Grumbling under your breath, you leaned back against the seat and did your best to keep still as he finished up. Once he was done, he wiped off the excess ink. 

“We should probably secure the place since we’re gonna be spendin’ the night here,” he suggested. 

“But Daryl,” you whined, “you can’t just leave me like this. You knew what you were doing earlier!” 

"Wha? Givin' you a tattoo?" You huffed and rolled your eyes and reached down to pull your pants back up, but he stopped you. 

"I'm jus' playin' darlin'. Sit back." He gently pushed you back into the chair before getting back on his knees. Slowly, he pulled your panties down to your ankles with your formerly discarded pants and yanked them both off over your shoes. He firmly gripped your hips and pulled you to the edge of the seat and placed your legs over his shoulders. Feeling his hot tongue lick up and down your soaked slit had you gripping the arm rests for support. With his thumb, he rubbed slow, teasing circles on your hard clit. His tongue was a welcome intrusion in your soaked entrance. You gasped and moaned out his name and your hands flew to his hair, your fingers getting tangled in his soft locks. This motivated him to rub faster circles on your clit, earning more gasps and moans from you. His tongue thrusted in and out of your dripping cunt as he tasted all of your juices, refusing to let any go to waste. You tugged his hair as your thighs involuntarily clamped around his head and he moaned unexpectedly, the vibrations from it bringing you closer to the edge. Your walls clenched around the pink muscle as he focused it on that one spot that always did things to you. 

"Daryl, please! I'm so close," you whined, desperate for him to bring you to your orgasm. If he weren't trapped between your plush thighs, he would've talked you through it, but instead he moved his lips to your clit and started sucking on it while prodding the bud with his tongue. You squeezed your eyes shut as the white hot waves of pleasure overtook your body. Daryl worked faster once he felt you tense up and your thighs convulsing around his head. Your fingers tightened in his hair as your toes curled. You could the vibration of his pleasured grunts against your soft flesh. 

"I'm gonna-" your back arched and head fell back as he pushed you over the edge, immersing you in a world of pleasure. He continued to lap at your pussy as you rode out your orgasm. Once you came down from that high, you relaxed and slumped against the chair. Daryl reluctantly freed himself from between your thighs since he needed to catch his breath again. His dick was straining against his pants with how hard he was just from hearing your sounds of pleasure and tasting your pretty pussy. And now, just seeing your fucked out face made him want to cum in his pants. 

 In one quick swipe, he cleared a nearby table of all its supplies. He picked you up from the chair with ease, tossing you over his shoulder before gently laying you onto the table. He made quick work of freeing his erection from his pants and stroked it a few times, causing precum to bubble up on the angry red tip. He lined it up with your slit, rubbing it up and down your slick folds teasingly. 

"So wet fer me, baby," he groaned as he lined himself up with your needy hole. You wrapped your legs around his hips, desperate for him to fill you up. Your body welcomed him as he slid in easily. 

"Yer takin' me so good, sunshine." He leaned down and connected his lips with yours. You moaned as you tasted yourself on his tongue. His tongue danced with yours as you kissed each other passionately. Large, rough hands palmed at your clothed tits as he started thrusting into you. Frustrated with your shirt, he hurriedly pulled it over your head before attaching his lips to your neck, roughly sucking and biting your skin. His tongue slid over your carotid artery, feeling how fast your heart was beating. You clumsily tugged at his shirt and vest, a silent plea for him to take them off, which he did. When he was with you, his insecurities were non existent. You tightly gripped his shoulders, nails digging hollow indents into his skin as he increased the pace of his thrusts. 

"Feel so good," you slurred. He kissed open mouthed kisses down your body, occasionally leaving marks in his wake. You squirmed and moaned beneath him, your second orgasm approaching fast. He was close too, you could feel it in the way  his cock twitched inside you and his pace became slower snd less rhythmic. 

"I'm boutta cum, baby," he groaned. You wanted to tell him you were, too, but your mind was a jumbled mess that was drunk off his cock. When your second orgasm came, your walls tightly hugged his shaft, squeezing him closer to his own climax. He quickly pulled out and stroked himself the rest of the way. His mouth fell open and eyes rolled back as he shot white hot ropes of cum all over your naked body. 

 He collapsed into a nearby chair, panting for air. You slid off the table and joined him in the chair by sitting on his lap. Both your bodies were coated in the thin sheen of sweat as you held each other close as exhaustion took over your bodies. 

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[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

I Can Sabotage Me By Myself

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Setting: Early Alexandria

Warnings: Typical TWD violence, descriptions of injuries, temporary character death (I promise)

Summary: You always knew it would hurt to lose Daryl, but you never imagined it would feel like this.

A/N: Honestly, today has not been a good day for me. So I needed some super angst. I apologize in advance.

*gif is not mine

“Don’t touch him!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, your hands pulling away from the man on the ground for a moment. Rick backed away, his wide eyes shining with unshed tears. He didn’t go far but just away was enough. You leaned down, smoothing back the archer’s hair, not even caring about the blood that was wetting the strands you touched. “Hey, hey, hey. I’m here. Just look at me, I’m here.”

Daryl’s eyes were wide and focused on you; god, the prettiest blue eyes you had ever seen. You always told him you could see everything you had ever wanted in his eyes. Even now, when they were filled with pain and fear, you could still see everything. 

“Ssshhh,” you tried to soothe him, even as blood streamed over his lips. The bite in his throat was deep. It was fatal. You knew that. He did, too. Still, you held pressure against it. He would bleed out faster if you didn’t. You were selfish. He was in pain, choking on his own blood and all you could think about was hoping he’d last one more minute. And then one more. And then one more. 

Daryl brought his hand to your face, cupping your cheek and leaving a crimson print on your skin. You didn’t care. That’s not what you felt at that moment. You felt his touch, cooler but still warm. Still alive. 

“You’re alright.” You lied. You knew that he knew that too, but even as he coughed and red burst past his lips, he smiled at you. It was small and pained but genuine. When his hand fell away from your face and you clearly heard the sounds of your friends sobbing over the gunfire and struggles still happening around you, you knew you couldn’t pretend any longer. “Please, don’t go.” 

Daryl was still now, blinking slowly, any fight left in him fizzling out. He was still watching you. You could tell there was so much he wanted to say. “Please, Daryl, I can’t. I can’t do any of this without you.” The movement was so slow and soft, the very last of his energy. He put his hand on his chest, over his heart, and then pointed a trembling finger at you. You nodded, grabbing that hand to kiss his palm and hold it against where your own heart was beating. “Me too.” You whispered, watching his eyes close. “Me too.”

All other sounds faded, no longer mattering. You stayed frozen to that spot, his hand still held against your chest. You kept it there, trembling as you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his forehead and then his mouth, ignoring the blood there. Your fingers gently grasped his chin and turned his face away from you before you took hold of the hilt of the knife strapped to your thigh. The flames burning all around you reflected on the blade as its sharp tip pressed in just below the base of his skull. “Me too.” You whispered again. The wail you released echoed as you drove the knife forward, all you could hear over and over and over and over and then darkness. 

You sat up with a gasp, skin glistening with sweat that had your camisole sticking flush against you, heart pounding a tattoo into your ribs. There wasn’t enough air. You were looking frantically around the room. The lighting from one small window was dim at best, but you could see the bed you were lying on. There were clothes on the floor, in a pile against the wall. One small shelf. Two nightstands. A door, half open. You could barely make out the toilet and shower stall. Next to the main door, propped against the wall, was a crossbow. 

Daryl’s room. 

Had you come down here and passed out after it happened? You were so confused. Your chest ached, both from lack of air and something else. Still gasping through an onslaught of tears, you looked down beside you to Daryl’s pillow. You fell onto your side and pulled it against your chest, sobbing through uncontrolled breaths. It still smelled like him. 

The door creaked loudly as it opened. Daryl had always scowled at the thing and said he would fix it. You didn’t know who had entered but they turned on the light. You were certain they’d be distressed at finding you like this: tangled in the sheets, crying, and hugging the archer’s pillow. Surely, they’d understand. 

“The hell ya doin’ to my pillow?”

You froze. You stopped breathing, eyes wide open. Sitting up quickly, your bloodshot eyes landed on the very man you had just been mourning. He was standing in the doorway, slowly closing the thing behind him while he kept his worried gaze on you. 

“Ya alright? Ya look like shit.” He drawled. He took a slow step toward you, hands up like he was showing you he was unarmed. Your breathing had picked up again but your body didn’t seem to be getting the signals your brain was sending it. “Y/N?” He was at the foot of the bed now, leaning down with his head tilted. 

Before he could say anything else, you launched at him, arms winding around his neck. Your body collided with his so forcefully that he stumbled back with a grunt, able to catch his balance even as your legs wrapped around his waist. He didn’t say anything as you all but wailed against his neck. His arms, which had been hovering outward, found their way around you so he could gently rub your back. 

“Ya gonna tell me what’s goin’ on?” He walked forward and sat down with you still firmly attached to his front. You shook your head against him. “Fair ‘nough.” He shrugged and continued to rub your back until your sobs quieted to occasional hiccups. You finally pulled back, eyes swollen and red. Daryl gave you a concerned once over and then tucked some hair behind your ear. 

“I had—I had a nightmare.” You knew now it had been just that. Your sleep-addled brain had earlier left you confused and emotional, unable to pull yourself out of the terror you had endured. You were able to remember going hunting with Daryl that morning. The two of you had returned with a small doe. A headache had been threatening to build all day, so Daryl had sent you off for a nap and reminded you to take something for your head. “Alexandria was—there were walkers everywhere—Daryl, you were bit—” Your hand quickly pressed against his throat, as if you were assuring yourself there was no wound. “I watched as—I had to—” 

“M’right here.” Somehow, he made sense of your ramblings. He tried to catch your eyes but you lowered your head.  “Hey.” His finger hooked beneath your chin and guided you to look at him. “M’fine. Been helpin’ Carol for the past couple’a hours. M’good.” He released your chin only to take one of your hands. He pulled his vest aside to place your palm against the shirt he wore beneath it. His heart beat strongly against your touch, if not a little fast. “See?”

You laughed in spite of yourself. You were awake now and had already figured out that it had all been a grizzly nightmare, but this somehow brought you a new level of calm. Before he could say anything else, you pressed your mouth against his, smiling at the ‘oomph’ that escaped him. He proceeded to kiss you breathless, until you were just a boneless heap in his arms. 

“Ya good now?” He asked, pushing you back a little to see your face. 

“I’m good.” You smiled softly, tracing your fingertips along his jaw. 

“Good.” He grabbed your arm and pulled while standing, his other arm behind your thighs hoisting you the rest of the way across his shoulder. Your laughter bubbled up and out of your throat as your fists lightly pounded against his back. “Let’s getcha fed an’ then we can spend the rest’a the night lettin’ ya find out just how alive I am.”

“Oh my god, Daryl! Shut up!”

[lunajay33]

Change Part.3

•🩰🎀🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

Part.2

•Masterlist•

I woke up feeling groggy and exhausted from the events of the day before, rolling over to see Daryl still laid out on the makeshift bed of blankets on the ground by my bed

“Daryl?” I said reaching down and shaking his shoulder

“Hmm?” He groaned opening his eyes to look up at me

“It’s morning, do you wanna go get some breakfast?”

“Sure”

I got up and rummaged through my drawers pulling out a pair of black leggings and longsleeve white shirt that had a tiny pink bow on the collar

“Mind if I change here?” I asked seeing as Daryl was already looking at me

“Go fer it”

I turned around and undressed throwing my pajamas in my laundry bin then quickly putting on the new days outfit, when I finished I turned seeing him with a wide smile

“What?”

“Cute panties” he said laughing under his breath obviously talking about my pink panties with white little lace trimming

“Stop” I said lighting pushing his arm

“As if yours are any better” I said as we both looked at his plaid boxer

We went out to the diner and had some breakfast, I didn’t wanna stay in the house knowing Jackson was still there

May was there and took our orders when we sat at the counter

“Thanks again for staying with me last night” I said as I stirred my straw in my water hearing the ice cubes clink together

“ ‘s nothin, didn’ wanna leave ya there knowin those assholes were still there” he said shrugging

It was silent for a while after that as we got our food and ate in peaceful silence, then paying May and leaving

“Wanna come over?” He asked as the dinner door behind us rang as it shut behind us

“Sure I don’t have anything else to do!”

He showed me around, he lived in a little house on the edge of town near the woods, more like a cabin than a house and if it got cleaned up and decorated nice, it would make a cute home

“I know it ain’t much but it’s enough” he said obviously feeling ashamed as we sat on his bed facing eachother

“I’m not judging you Daryl” I smiled, he nodded as I saw a flush of red on his cheeks

I looked around his room never having been in a guys room before, but it seemed like the typical you’d expect, light brown walls, cross bow in the corner, plaids upon plaids hanging in his closet, a page ripped out of a busy magazine and tapped to the wall

“I see you got a type” I said trying to hide the laugh that was creeping up as he quickly turned to look at it by his bed post

He ripped it down and threw is in the trash in the corner of his room

“Damn Merle musta put that up”

“Suuuuuuure”

“Ain’t my type anyways” he grumbled under his breath

“Oh and what is?” He looked me up and down before looking back at his lap

“H/c, e/c, she gotta be nice a little bit more quiet, can’t stand lots o’ noise”

“Hmmm I see” atleast he kind of described me, I had the hair color, the eye color, I’m pretty nice I think and I’m pretty quiet but I’m not gonna read into it just to get my heart broken

“So Mr. Dixon what makes you Daryl, what do you like”

“Not much, like huntin, tattoos, bikes”

“Do you have tattoos?” I asked intrigued

“Got two on my back”

“Can I see?” I could tell he tensed up and wasn’t so keen on the idea

“Maybe another time” he said looking down again

“Okay no problem!” I said a bit cheerier to life the tension

It was silent for a while until he got up off the bed and crouched down under his bed by me pulling out a box and placing it infront of me and he sat back infront of me

“What’s this?”

“Got ya somethin, saw it in a store, cleaned em up as best I could” he was blushing again and I was beyond excited to even see what he got me

I opened the lid of the box and my heart stopped, it was a pair of ballet slippers, shiny pink with ribbons, the bottoms were a bit stained but it’s expected

“Daryl……..you got these for me?” I was stunned no one has ever done anything like this for me

“Was looking around hopin I could find somethin, don’t know if they’ll fit tho”

I hopped up taking off my socks and slipped them on, I stood up and they were a perfect fit, Daryl got on his knees before me and laced the ribbon around my leg tying it in a bow

“Ya like em?” He asked looking down at me as he stood up

“Daryl I love them, thank you so much!” I said so happy I threw my arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug, feeling his hands on my lower back, engulfing it, I pulled back slowly our lips so close I could feel his breath, smoky but mint

“Thought ya deserve ta feel like a ballerina” he whispered

I couldn’t hold it in anymore, I leaned in ever so slowly our lips just grazing each others…………when the door burst open

“Damn it Merle” Daryl groaned as we stepped back from eachother

“Woah sorry brother, didn’t know ya had a lady over”

“Get out” he said trying to push him out

“Just came ta tell ya, dads comin home soon” he stiffened and looked back at me as I stood there embarrassed

“Do ya wanna go out fer dinner or somethin?” He asked with pleading eyes

“Of course! We can go to the diner again!” I took my slippers off and put the in the box as I pick up my socks and we went to the front door to put on our shoes, then walking quietly to the diner

“Are you okay D?” I asked worried

“ ‘s nothin, old man just ain’t the meetin type”

“Oh well, you know I’m always here for you, you can stay at my place whenever you’d like!”

“Thanks, might take ya up on that, yer gonna have ta show me yer moves with yer new slippers” he smiled as he placed his arm around my shoulder

I couldn’t believe all this was happening, it’s been such a short time since I’ve really known him and he’s already done more for me than anyone else, and made me feel more alive, I might really like this Dixon

Part.4!

Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @welcumetomyescape @severelykinky @tesfayera @daryldixmedown @secretsicanthideanymore @lettersfromyourlove @mordilwen-of-mirkwood @secretsicanthideanymore

[victoria-grimesss]

Victoria-Grimesss Masterlist

🌿 = NSFW 🪴 = SFW

~ REQUESTS OPEN ~

little list of answers

what I will and will not write :)

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

CALL OF DUTY

🌿Tear You Apart - König (unfinished)

König meets the new recruit from the states and he's dark, somewhat jealous but allll hers, watch them navigate their new relationship.

-swf-> Part 1 -nsfw-> Part 2 -nsfw-> Part 3 -nsfw-> Part 4 -nsfw-> Part 5 -sfw-> Part 6 -nsfw-> Part 7

🌿Locked on Target - Simon "Ghost" Riley

You've worked alongside the 141 for a year now and your festering infatuation with the infamous Ghost is slowly eating you alive, pushed to confess by none other than Soap will Ghost leave you in the dust of rejection or swallow you whole?

🌿Nightmare - Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon suffers from a bad nightmare, he draws you close to avoid you from slipping away.

🪴Call the Doctor, I'm in Love - Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

Soap has a big ol' crush on you, the 141 and base medic, he’s not sneaky or quiet about it. Here are the many times he has drooled over you and the one time you said yes.

🌿Soap with Secretary girlfriend

🌿Ghost & König with secretary girlfriend

🌿Knight!Ghost x Princess!Reader

🌿Captain Price Headcanons

🌿Ghost Headcanons

🪴Soap and Gaz Battle Buddy Headcanons

🪴141 & Konig with Tall!Fem Reader

🪴141 x Reader with a Medusa Tattoo

BAULDERS GATE 3

🪴Astarion Headcanons

🌿(Astarion, Gale, Wyll, & Halsin) overhears fem!s/o saying their name

🌿(Zevlor, Dammon, & Rolan) overhears fem!s/o saying their name

🪴(Astarion & Gale) finding out fem!s/o has self harm scars. TW!

🪴Tav can't read a map

🪴Halsin & Astarion with a Plus-Size Reader

TWD

🌿Daryl Dixon Headcanons

DC

🪴Gotham Under the Lights - Bruce Wayne/Batman

As a starving artist, you are constantly drawing your hometown of Gotham, especially at night, and as of recently you’ve become enamored by getting a look at the infamous Batman so he can be your latest creation.

[deansapplepie]

Marchweres Day 1-2

Prompt: Full Moon, Shapeshifting, Predator-Prey

Pairing: Werewolf! Daryl Dixon x f!Reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Warnings: NSFW, smut, predator-prey dynamic, at first it looks like they don’t know each other (it soon is proved to be the opposite), a little role-play maybe(?), mentions of fingering, mentions of cunnilingus, teasing, dirty talking, dumbfication if you squint, praising. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+

A/N: I wrote the werewolf thing in a vibe more Twilight, but at the same time I’m creating my own things about it.

Also, It may or may not be in twd universe. You can consider anything. There’s no mentions of walkers or the apocalypse.

It was full moon. She was big, round and high on the sky. Despite not having a single light with you, it illuminated well almost everything and it also created shadows.

You walked by yourself in the woods, a dumb choice most people would say. The full moon was when monsters crawled from their holes and came to earth so they could feed from humans. Or at least, that was what your grandmother said. You never believed on this shit, until you listened to a howl, and by how the sound was high it came from somewhere close to you.

How could you forget there were wolves in those woods? Why did you come to the woods in the first place?

The leaves rustled nearby, you looked to your sides and saw nothing. You felt a warm breath on your nape and turned very slowly, your heart beaten fast, and the nervousness was all around you. When you turned back you were presented to a big dark brown wolf, it was the biggest wolf you had ever seen, his nose was in the same height as your face. It was so furry and had some white hair here and there, specially around the snout. The wolf’s eyes were a bright blue that could be recognized anywhere, because you never saw something as shiny as it. It let out a small huff and showed a little of teeth and you interpreted that as “Run.”

Your instincts heightened and you turned your back to it and started running. You knew it was stupid. You knew you had no chance. Your 2 little legs against the ginormous wolf 4 legs? No chance! You ran as if your life depended on this. You took some glances at your back and you saw it chasing you. It could be faster, but it wasn’t the intention. The Wolf was playing with you, playing with the food.

You ran as much as your body allowed you, until you were faced with a Stone Mountain, and you had nowhere to go, you turned back to the monster and saw it approaching you, cornering you… planning the exact moment it would jump on you. His blue eyes illuminated the night like two lanterns. You looked both sides, no way to run and you looked back again, it was like he had a grin on his animal face before attacking you and tackling you to the ground.

You closed your eyes for an instant anticipating the fall, the fluffy leaves made floor of the place welcomed your body and when you opened your eyes, there he was… a huge man caging you to the ground, his hands holding yours up your head, his medium length hair falling like a curtain in his face, his wavy hair framing his face, that same blue eyes now adorning his face and when your eyes roomed lower you were presented with his marvelous chest full of scars from old battles and tattoos. Going a little lower you could see his happy trail and your eyes tentatively roomed down, until you heard him. “Ma eyes are up here sunshine…” the gruff voice sending chills throughout your body.

Your eyes moved back to his face and he couldn’t hide the amusement on his face. You smirked at him, and he continued to talk. “You probably sucked at playing hide and seek.” He took a long sniff on your neck and continued to talk in your ear. “Ya were all around the woods. Can’t even hide yourself for living. And yer smell? Could smell your arousal miles away before finding ya.”

“It’s because of the expectation of you catching me.” You admitted.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, of what you’re going to do to me.”

It was true your grandmother told you everything about werewolves, but she never told you how it was to be one or live with one. And if there was one thing you learned it was that every full moon they got so much energy accumulated, having to control themselves and spend this energy hunting… but that wasn’t the best way of spending this energy, it was till they matured and learned that sex was the best option to go through this phase. Just after meeting him you got to learn all of this.

Knowing this, that night, you decided to do a game. More like a tag game than hide and seek, to spend some energy, for the adrenaline to run in your veins, especially his, to build the expectation. But while you did that, you couldn’t help but feel excited all the way through to your ending agreed point.

“So what will the big bad wolf do to me?” You asked looking at him with the best clueless look you could manage to give him.

He held a laugh at your act. “What do ya suggest?”

“I don’t know, this was your idea…”

For fuck’s sake, you had already lost count of how many times he had made you cum. It was like his battery was never low. He started fingering and eating you out, then he made his sick game of teasing your folds, clit and entrance with his dick but not doing what you needed the most… next thing he hammered into you for so long that you lost count of time.

Now after your, god knows how many, orgasm he pounded into you, producing the filthiest sounds of your juices and bodies colliding against each other. You had your arms folded in front of you so you could support your face and prevent from laying it against the leaves, your ass up high while he grabbed your hips and fucked you senseless, otherwise you’d not be able to hold yourself in the position.

“D-D-D-Daryl…” you cried while he hit that spot again and again.

“D-D-D-D…” he mocked you. “So fucked up that can’t even say one simple word.”

Damn… he loved you in every way he could have you, but gods he loved to watch your ass while he disappeared inside of you. He grunted with his thoughts and what he saw in front of him and felt. How could him have so many dirty thoughts about you when he was already doing the dirty?

One of his hands came to your body and helped your body up to be flush against his while he continued trusting his hips on you. One of his hands wandered up your body stopping for a little on your breasts and then continuing its way to your neck stopping there, no pressure just giving you the sensation of being held there. His other hand traveled from your hips down to your clit rubbing torturing circles on it. You whined and whimpered against him, feeling that one more time you were getting close to your release.

“Fuck. Ya always do so good for me, taking everything I give you.” He breathed on your ear. “Do ya have any idea off how good you make me feel?”

Your body trembled, a bunch of moans and incoherent words coming from your lips, you had reached your orgasm one more time. He felt that he was finally getting there, he continued riding your orgasm till he felt like he couldn’t hold it anymore. He pulled out, his cock rubbing up and down between your folds while you where still coming out from your orgasm. He bursted in pleasure spending his seed on your stomach and on the floor. Even though he was deeply tempted on finishing inside of you, he couldn’t. You still didn’t feel prepared to have his puppies so he was waiting for your time.

He laid on the floor holding you in his arms waiting for both of you to recover your breaths. You turned around and your mouth found his giving him a passionate kiss. “I love you, but I don’t know if I can walk.” You pouted.

“Don’t need ta. I’ll carry you home.” He said nuzzling your hair. “I love you, and thank you for spending this time with me.”

“Next full moon again?” You asked, and he laughed he couldn’t believe you had enjoyed this crazy idea.

“If ya want to, yeah.”

You dressed your clothes, Daryl helping you and then you realized he didn’t dress the clothes you brought him on your backpack. “I’m not walking home with your naked ass. Nothing against it, but what if people see it?

“I ain’t walking.” He shifted again into his wolf form and signed with his snout for you to get on his back.

“Really? This isn’t what I imagine when you ask me to ride you.” You joked, he left a huff from his nose, and you knew that was a snort.

He lowered himself so you could get on his back, you laid there on his dark brown fur, one leg on each side and your arms around his neck. As soon as you were on his back and holding yourself, he ran through the woods, this time not behind you, but with you.

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[paintyoureyeswithavividmind]

close to home | chapter seventy six

close to home | chapter seventy six

plot: the reader fights to get back to her family

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 2,333 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd

You could smell the early spring air wafting in from the open windows. The sun illuminated your bedroom in golden rays, creating long shadows that forested the wall. A warm breeze pushed back the soft baby hairs that had fallen from the braid that fell down your back. 

Standing at the window was a figure you knew too well. With dark jeans hanging low on his waist, you could see the dimples on his back. His tattoo was the only scarred tissue on his skin, and as you slowly walked up to him and reached out your arms, your skin was perfectly smooth and showed no signs of the hurt you’d been through. 

Protected in his arms, your newborn daughter was bundled in a pink blanket, sleeping peacefully in her father’s arms. 

He looked down at you with that half-lazy smile and a happy shine in his eyes. “Hi, darlin’.” His voice was as thick as honey, and it poured over you, wrapping you up in a feeling of safety. 

You ran your hand down his shoulder, feeling how perfectly smooth his skin was. There were no bumps or scars. He had never been hurt, just like you. The two of you were safe here. 

“The light,” You said suddenly, nodding your head towards the setting sun. “It’s so bright out.” 

“It’s lighting up the way for you.”

You squinted as the light slowly brightened. The trees beyond your family’s land were being overtaken by the light. “I’m home?”

“Isn’t this the place you miss the most?” He asked you. “The place you always felt the safest?”

You couldn’t take your eyes off the blinding light. It was swallowing field by field. “How did we get here?”

“We’ve always been here.”

“It’s so bright…”

“Does it make you feel safe?”

You nodded, reaching out as the light came even closer. “It feels like home. It feels like a blanket of warmth. Like nothing could touch me.”

“Nothing can hurt you here, darlin’. You’ll be safe with us here. Just me, you, and Josie.”

His words wisped away with the wind as the light came closer, circling and embracing your hand. Shivers ran up and down your arms as you felt the warmth seep into your skin. You closed your eyes as you basked in the touch. 

“Open your eyes, darlin’.” 

Your eyes shot open, and you were blinded by the light of a flashlight. There was pressure on your back, and you groaned loudly as you tried to remember what happened. Memories of the dynamite and the ground shaking reminded you exactly what happened and what was going on. 

Dirt coated your face and itched your scalp. You clenched your fingers into a fist in the dirt, and you tried to move. A shrill ache went straight through your skull, and you struggled to lift yourself up. 

A broken wooden beam rested on your back, and you had to pull yourself forward to crawl out. A painful cry fell from your lips as your head swooned. You didn’t need to see a doctor to tell you that you had a concussion--you remembered enough of your medical schooling to tell you the symptoms, despite how long it'd been and how much you’d forgotten. 

You shivered as you stood, touching a sore part of your skull and feeling flaky, dried blood fall off. You nearly lost your balance when you reached down to grab the flashlight but used the wooden beam to support you. It had landed on some rock next to you, and it didn’t escape you that those rocks were the only reason you were alive. 

You cursed under your breath as you leaned against one of the bigger rocks. Your bow. It was on you during the explosion. You slowly searched the area until you pulled it out, but the quiver on your back and all the arrows were broken. You wanted to cry at the sight of it. 

You spotted your husband’s bag five feet away, and it took all your strength to push off the rocks that had it pinned down. You had to tell yourself that he was fine, that he got out before Carol did. He wasn’t down here when shit hit the fan. 

You’d only just pulled it over your shoulders when you heard Magna’s voice. “(Y/N), thank God. I thought you were dead.” 

Using your flashlight, you spotted her further down the tunnel. Connie was with her. You sighed with relief as you stumbled your way toward them. 

“How long have you been awake?” You said as you signed.

“Long enough to find Connie and wait for her to get up. I thought you were dead. I kept yelling for you, but I couldn’t find you. I can barely stand. My head hurts so bad,” Magna said. 

You shook your head. “I’m alive. We need to move, though. It could still be unstable, and the noise will bring walkers. I don’t wanna be here if the ground above us collapses.”

Where are we supposed to go?

“This isn’t the only way out. Just the one we found first. We gotta go back and push in. It’s the only way we can get out. Even those freaks didn’t come in this way.” You adjusted your bow and bag, grimacing as the movement hurt your head. “I’m finding a way out of here. I’m not dying in this shithole.”

***

The cave continued to be a network of tunnels and debris. Your flashlight finally went out, and the only one left was Magna’s. Once it went out, you’d be stumbling around in the darkness. So, no matter how bad your head hurt or how much Magna said you all needed a break, you kept pushing forward. The image of Josie’s sweet little face kept pushing you. You needed to get home for her. You wouldn’t leave her without her mother. 

You retraced your steps and found a network of tunnels down. Which was where the horde was, but it also meant that the exit was somewhere there, too. Alpha couldn’t have smuggled in tens of thousands of walkers easily. 

Around a bend of rocks and dirt, you heard voices and smelt smoke, and you quickly grabbed the flashlight from Magna and turned it off. In the dark, you took a deep breath and whispered. “I heard freaks. Stay here.”

Then you were approaching the bend and peaking around the corner. Three people were standing around on watch, each holding a pike of fire. You turned back and went to Magna. “There’s three of them. If we can get to them and take them out, we can wear their masks and get the hell out of here.”

“And Connie?”

“It’s too damn dark for her not to know what’s going on. She can’t read our lips down here or see us sign. If we get separated...” You said. You grabbed Connie’s hand and traced STAY into her palm. She gave your hand a squeeze, and then you pulled out your machete. “Let’s go.”

You were thankful for the dark as you crept along the rock walls. You were too far out to be seen from the light of the fire, which worked to your advantage. You twisted the knife in your hand as you approached the one closest to you. 

Not hesitating for a single second, you grabbed the torch in their hand at the same time you drove your knife home into the back of its head. Carefully setting the body down, you held the torch low. Magna was in the works of killing the second freak on watch, and you quickly approached the last one. 

After its body dropped, Magna went to grab Connie. You set the torch down on the dirt as you knelt beside one of the freaks. Your stomach turned as you pulled off the mask. Then you collected the other two, and when Magna and Connie came over, you gave them two. 

“This shit reeks,” Magna complained. 

You tied the strings around the back of your neck as you breathed through your mouth. “Yeah, I know. Come on, we need to keep pushing forward.”

***

You heard the roaring before you knew you’d found the horde. You’d been walking around for hours trying to find a way out when you nearly walked straight into the horde itself. With the masks, none of the walkers paid close attention to you as they circled around themselves. All but one. 

So you slowly walked by its side and brought it toward where Magna and Connie were waiting. Then you put it down. 

“What are you doing?”

“The Whisperers know what masks look like on humans. They’ll recognize us, don’t you think?” You said, signing the best you could with the machete in your hand. “We need to cover ourselves up and get through the horde. I was able to see the rock wall, which means the exit is on the other side.”

You want us to follow the walkers out?

You nodded. “If we can find where they brought the walkers in. We’ll get out. I’m sure they’ll have some people on watch, but we can take care of that.”

Then, without waiting any longer, you drove the machete into the walker's gut and started cutting. It didn’t take long until the three of you were coated enough to take the masks off. But you shoved them into your bag in case they’d be useful later. 

“Alright… I’ll lead.” You whispered as the three of you approached the horde. “Connie in the middle, Magna in the back.”

Neither of them disagreed or argued with you, and you took the first step into the horde. Your stomach turned at the overwhelming stench of them. Bodies pushed into you, and each deep groan in your ear had you sweating. 

I’m getting home to my daughter. I’m getting home to my husband, you kept repeating in your mind. Any time a panic bubble started, that was all you needed to think about. Home. Josie. Your husband. It was everything you needed to keep pushing forward. 

It wasn’t until you were halfway through the horde that you noticed that the horde was starting to move. You knew it couldn’t have been you, and when you spotted a few Whisperers about twenty feet in front of you, you knew they were leading them out of the cave. 

So you lowered your head and followed them out. 

***

It was midday by the time you realized Connie and Magna weren’t behind you, and you’d managed to get away from the horde by walking at a slant and dropping into a small riverside trench. You waited in the mud until the horde passed, and then some to be sure. 

When you finally got the chance to look out and ensure you were safely away from them, you collapsed into the river and finally let the tears flow. 

You desperately washed the blood off your face and hair, bathing yourself in the cold water to relieve the ache in your head. The water around you was painted red when your face felt clean. You didn’t give a damn about your clothes being soaked. They were so filthy with human and walker blood that water was preferable. 

You moved north in the river until it was safe to drink, and you did so until you threw up. Your stomach grumbled hungrily as you made your way up the riverbed.

Where was the horde going? Alpha knew that you knew where the horde was. As much as you hated to admit it, Alpha was smart. She would move the horde or use it to attack. Your eyes slowly widened as you thought about the closest community to the cave systems. 

“Hilltop…” You breathed out. 

***

You had never run faster in your life. You didn’t stop to kill passing walkers. You didn’t pause to catch a breath. You ignored every ache and pain in your body to keep yourself moving. You had to get to Hilltop. You had to warn them. 

You didn’t know when you passed the horde. You only knew from the smell that carried on the wind. You couldn’t see it, but you could hear it. But you caught up to it quickly, thanks to how slow the rotting corpses walked.

 And while a part of you wanted to go back into the horde and try to find Connie and Magna, you knew it was useless. They had to figure a way out of the horde themselves. You couldn’t help them. But the Hilltop. You could help them. 

So you kept running. Mile after mile, adrenaline pushed you. It was the only thing that kept you moving. It was the only thing that could get you back to your baby, to your husband. If he was anywhere, he’d be at Hilltop. And you prayed to God that he hadn’t brought Josie there after the attacks on Alexandria. You prayed to God he wasn’t even at Hilltop, to begin with. 

It wasn’t until you were a mile from Hilltop that you allowed yourself to run slower. You had an ache in your side that’d been persistent the past two miles. You knew you were on the verge of passing out, but God be damned if you didn’t make it there. 

Your shirt was soaked with sweat as you saw the wooden posts of Hilltops walls, and you cried in relief. Your legs were shaking as you ran up the dirt road. You could see people on watch moving around on their posts. But you knew when they sat you because you heard someone yelling to open the gates. 

As soon as you ran past the walls, the overwhelming sensation of being amongst friends hit you, despite the danger on its way, your legs gave out and you collapsed onto your knees in the dirt. 

[luvsae]

Could you write a Carl x insecure!midsize!reader pls? Just Carl reassuring her she's beautiful regardless 🫶💜

first off, this is my first twd request, thank you so much for the request. second, if anyone is going through something similar, just know that you're beautiful no matter what :) i love you!

you're beautiful | carl grimes

carl grimes x insecure!midsize!reader

angst with eventual fluff | WARNINGS : doubtful thinking, being mean to self, comparing in a negative way

summary: insecurities get the best of you, even during the apocalypse. carl is always here to reassure that you're beautiful.

note: this takes place when carl would've been an adult! (also i apologize if this is really bad..)

Ever since you were a teenager, insecurities have become a big part of your life. At first, it started with small things like: not enjoying the way your hair looked, or hating your eyebrows.

It eventually became about your body.

You were scared of how people would view you, but most importantly - how you viewed yourself.

Some people might say that caring about your looks during an apocalypse is pointless because there's other horrible things going on, but it damages your mental health.

Although you had these thoughts, your boyfriend Carl thought otherwise.

He would always assure you that you were the most beautiful person he ever laid eyes on - because it was true.

Today was a new day, though, as you threw on a regular short sleeve shirt and jeans. You walked over to the mirror in your bedroom and looked at yourself.

There was a tad bit of sadness filtered over your eyes as you watched how the clothes looked on you. With a sigh, you left the room and went downstairs.

You shared a house with Carl since you were now adults and no longer teenagers. It was quite nice to live with him, but he always got up early to visit Judith and do a few other things.

Noticing your footsteps, Carl turned around and smiled at you. "Hey there. Did you sleep well?"

"I did," you returned a slightly smaller smile than his back to him. "Did you? I notice you're up early again."

"I did too, but I had to go over to see Judith since my Dad went on a run before," he walked over to you, wrapping his arms around you. "I'm glad you're up, though."

You practically melted into his touch. It was nice being in his embrace - so nice that it almost made you cry. "You should sleep in late one day, too."

"Maybe one day, sweetheart." He whispered before leaving a kiss on the top of your head.

Blinking away your tears, you left his embrace and looked at him. You made sure to smile to distract him from your red-tinted eyes.

Why were you so emotional right now?

Was it the mix of Carl's strong love and the insecurities sneaking into your brain? You weren't too sure.

"You wanna do something tonight? My dad and Michonne are gonna make something and invited us over," Carl suggested. "Only if you want to, of course."

"That sounds great," you nodded, hoping that the distraction would help with your insecurities and terrible thoughts.

"Great," Carl gave you one last kiss. "I'm going to help Maggie with something, I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay, I love you." You replied.

"I love you too."

The evening soon arrived, which meant you had to get ready for dinner with Carl's parents.

You quickly went upstairs to change out of your plain shirt and instead change into something more fancy. (Although fancy clothes were hard to find during the zombie apocalypse).

Searching through your clothing drawer, you found a nice black top to compliment your dark blue jeans.

You threw your other top away and replaced it with your new one. Looking into the mirror, you noticed your shoulders and had those thoughts again.

A frown appeared on your face, those terrible thoughts getting stronger. The insecurities were practically tattooed onto your brain.

"Fuck," you said through gritted teeth as you tried to fight off the tears. "I have to find something else."

You opened the drawer again, ignoring the tears running down your cheeks. "Where is that top, shit!"

Clothes were being thrown all over the floor as your frustrated mind wandered everywhere. It was horrible - your thoughts, you hated them.

You hated yourself.

Slamming your fist against the drawer, you let out an angry sigh and continued looking.

Without knowing someone was standing in the doorway, Carl walked forward and gently laid his hand on your shoulder. "Baby?"

You jumped slightly and turned around. "Carl? I-"

His eyes looked at the floor. The clothes everywhere embarrassed you. You didn't mean to make such a huge mess.

"Why are the clothes everywhere?"

"Uh." you finally looked up at him, Carl realized the tears stained on your face, making his face soften.

"Baby?" He cupped your face gently. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"It doesn't matter," your voice was a whisper as you looked away from him. "It's just something silly."

"Y/N," he used his hand to turn your head. "What happened? You know you can tell me, right?"

"I know," you sniffled. "It's just- it affects me all the time. I mean, all the time."

Carl tilted his head out of pure confusion. "What is it that affects you? Is it something that you can tell me?"

Your lip quivered as you made eye contact with Carl. That's when you burst into tears, all the emotion spilling out of you.

"I hate the way this top looks on me. These jeans, too. I hate the way I look in everything," you confessed. "I don't like the way I look. I'm not pretty or beautiful."

Carl suddenly pulled you into a hug, holding you tight. "Don't ever say that, sweetheart. You're everything to me, okay?"

He pulled away from the hug and looked at you. His face was serious. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever met. You know, I remember the first time I saw you and I was in awe."

You sniffled once more. "Are you just saying that?"

"Why would I?" He held your face lovingly. "I love you so much. You're beautiful to me and to everyone. Your body is perfect, your face, everything about you."

Carl kissed your cheek, "If I could kiss all the parts of your body until you realized your beauty, I would do it a thousand times for you."

Your eyes were watery again. This time it was happiness instead of sadness. Carl really knew his way with words. "Really?"

"Of course," he peppered your face with kisses, the tickle-feeling made you giggle. "You're so stunning. I think you belong in a museum."

"Stop it," you smiled.

"I mean it." Carl smiled back at you. "You know, if you're ever going through something like this then you can talk to me. I'll make sure you know how beautiful you are everyday. I'm also serious about kissing you everywhere."

"Carl," you smacked his arm lightly. "Thank you so much. I don't know how I got so luck meeting you."

"I could ask the same question to you." Carl said.

"Shit, we're going to be late to your father's house." You suddenly noticed.

"Do you still want to go? We don't have to if you don't want to." Carl reassured.

"You know I have to see Judith," you smiled. "I wanna see Rick and Michonne too."

"They're really excited to see you again. I swear Michonne is the most thrilled to see you," Carl explained to you. "And Judith too."

"We better go then." You kissed his cheek then, "I love you. Thank you for this."

"Anything for you."

[littlegodzilla]

Okay, okay, Who likes weird stories? Who likes the paranormal and the mysterious? Me! Who is incapable of writing anything short in his life? Me too!

Well, I love this request, all the mystery, the magic, the intrigue that this story can have, I wanted to do a one shot, at first, but I started writing and I was unable to stop. I'll post the first part, the story has a lot to offer yet, it's just a little taste of what can happen....

Hope you'll like it!!

Enjoy!!

****************

Back to Our World.

Norman Reedus x Reader.

Part 1. Request.

Requested by @minervadashwood (thank you I love writing it!): maybe season 3 of the walking dead is shooting. reader and norman have had a love scene together, since then they've become like...idk fuck buddies? but reader has feelings for him. he'll be goofy and just say "i love you" and then laugh (like he does with andy?, so she knows he doesn't mean it. Perhaps late one night they are rehearsing an argument for the show,and they're the only people on the set. Then, the worst storm georgia has ever seen rolls in, and lightning strikes the set, the two of them get knocked out. when they wake up, they're dressed as their characters.

all the other actors are on set, but there's no crew. very weird. they try to chat with andy or melissa, but neither one of them respond to those names, the the others start to get suspiscious of reader and daryl. Like they have working cell phones (no service, but they light up and stuff). Reader has a tattoo on her arm that isn't visible on the show...stuff like that maybe?

anyway, they have to pretend to be daryl and reader's character to keep anyone from shooting them. so they're sharing a mattress at night, acting like a couple, etc.

Warnings: Eventual Smut. Fantasy. TWD Stuff. Some Comedy. Romance and fluff.

Words: 9000

*******************

The mattress creaks again and again with each thrust, each time the moans get louder, the echo of sweaty skins in a room enveloped in a warm, moist atmosphere until both bodies fall exhausted on the bed.

This has been going on since the end of The Walking Dead's first season. After the CDC episode, Daryl and your character had a torrid scene, wrapped in a lot of alcohol and remorse the next day, but the moment was intimate and sexually tense between you and the actor who plays Daryl, Norman Reedus. At first it didn't seem to change anything, but after a couple of weeks, Norman started texting you to propose talking after filming, going down town for lunch, or just clearing your mind from the whole day's work. You took those invitations as something between friends, something innocent, but then everything changed and one night your talk ended up in his trailer, and the two of you in his bed. After that night, there have been others, it's not something that happens every day, but the two of you seek each other out and accept each other's company assiduously. You never talked about it, even when the season ended you thought it would end, that it would not happen again, but it didn't, when you discovered that Norman kept writing you from time to time, asking you how you were and if you felt like seeing each other.

Things were still not exactly clear with your meetings, but you couldn't say no to him, you liked spending the day and nights with him, not only is he a great lover, Norman has proved that to you on more than one occasion, but he is also a good friend, he is funny and crazy at times, protective and confidant on many other occasions.

You have to admit that, perhaps unplanned, you've fallen a little in love with him.

Maybe a lot.

"Are you okay, honey?" his voice brings you back to that very moment. "Have I been too intense?"

"N-no, it's been great, as always." You mumble and look up at him with a shy smile. Norman smiles and pulls you to him, using his chest as a pillow.

"Good girl, you always know how to make me feel good." He jokes and you both laugh low.

You're struggling not to fall asleep, it's been a long day on the film set, the Georgia heat is taking its toll on all of you, plus all the hours doing and undoing the same takes until they come out right. The pleasant warmth of Norman's body, his comfort, his fingers brushing against your skin, are guiding you into a slow but pleasant slumber. Norman turns his head to look at you, your eyes are already closed, which makes him smile, his other hand strokes your hair, you open your eyes a little and he kisses your forehead.

"Rest, beautiful, I'm leaving now." He tells you releasing your body.

"Y-you can stay here..." You offer. You never stay in each other's trailer, always, after sex you say goodbye and go back to your trailers. It's not like your partners don't know what's going on, but you try to be discreet.

"No, I want you to rest." He leans over and kisses you on the head again. "I'll see you tomorrow on set."

One of the other stipulations of your encounters is that Norman never kisses you. No matter how intense, how needy and desperate the situation. His mouth never touches yours. He may touch the rest of your body, every crease and corner, but never your lips. You found it frustrating at first, now you've learned to accept it.

"Okay..." You whisper, curling up on the bed, covering your nakedness with the sheets as you watch him get dressed, he leaves his pants and slippers unfastened, his trailer is not far from yours, so he doesn't need to dress too much.

He gives you one last look, a smile and a wink before leaving the room, in the distance the echo of the door closing. You sigh long and close your eyes. It doesn't take you long to fall asleep, you're exhausted, but your mind wanders between confused and restless dreams.

*************

The third season begins in an exciting way, after losing the farm, your whole group has to go on the road, Lori is very pregnant and the group begins to doubt Rick's leadership. Daryl and your character are a couple now, their bond has been growing stronger since the night of the CDC and especially after the days at Greene Farm and the loss of Sophia. The scenes you're filming now are close to the prison, the house you'll have throughout that season, but it won't be easy for you to maintain. You're still starting and you know for sure it's going to be long months, with little sleep and too much repetition. But there's a reason you love acting and you wouldn't trade it for anything.

That morning, as you eat breakfast, you still feel a little sore from the night before, some glances fall on you, there are mischievous smiles, but no one says anything, they know you are shy about it. Sometimes you talk to Melissa or Lauren, you need to talk it over with someone, if only to clear your own mind.

"Don't get too attached to him." Lauren once advised you. "Remember, you're not his first 'friend' here." She gives you an intense look.

It's true, Norman and Laurie Holden also had their moment very early in the series. It was like an immediate connection between them, but it didn't last too long, they're good friends now, to be honest you don't know if they still see each other when he's not with you. You don't really want to know either, you live better in ignorance.

"I know, it's not like Norman is forcing me either..." You defended him.

"I'm just saying don't tell him anything about how you feel. Avoid hurting yourself further." He advises you and you take his advice.

Melissa didn't talk much, she was friends with both of you, possibly Norman's confidant too, if he ever had any doubts about your fuck buddy relationship. You still seek her advice from time to time, but you've learned to hide your feelings for Norman, or at least you hope you have.

"Good morning." You hear his voice, approaching towards the scene you are all in, he is already characterized as Daryl, some dirt on his skin, hair combed flat ironed, his skin already starting to acquire some sweat due to the climate of the area and the time he has been held in the makeup trailer. Your eyes roam his whole body, the movement of his step, his arms dancing on both sides of his body, his feet stepping hard, being dragged by the weight of his own body, you have always noticed that he walks with his right foot leaning slightly inwards, a small deviation that surely no one has detected, a small flaw, although Norman is far from being a perfect man. A smile comes across your face, a chuckle escapes you and that catches your companion's attention.

"Good morning." He greets you and you nod.

"Good morning." You reply, he walks over and holds out a bottle of water in his hand. "You should keep it to yourself, you're sweating more than I am." You try to joke and watch as he smiles and bites his tongue.

"I have another one for me, here, I don't want you to faint from the heat." He insists and the cool body of the bottle touches your face giving you goosebumps.

"Thank you." You accept the bottle, when you take it your fingers brush against each other.

"Good girl." He smiles and walks away to return with the rest of the team.

You feel yourself gasping for breath, he always has that effect on you. No matter what he does, Norman always disarms you even if he only brushes against you by accident. You shake your head trying to regain your composure, drink from the bottle and focus on your work.

The shots follow one after the other throughout the day, as a group, individually, with Norman, you stop for lunch, pick up where you left off, try to record the scenes that were strange, again, and then stop once more for a bite to eat. You're done for the day, which gives you a few hours of breathing room. Lauren smiles at you in greeting as she walks over to you and sits down next to you.

"What a day." You snort, exhausted.

"Yeah, I'm not quite used to the heat." You joke and laugh with her, you're not a fan of the sun either, nor the heat.

"Luckily we're done for the day."

"Yeah, how are you, I noticed you were a little lost this morning." She asks looking at you with some concern and you feel your cheeks burning.

"Have you noticed? Last night Norman and I were together..." You tell him. "I didn't expect anyone to notice..."

"It always happens to you after you've been with him, I start to get curious about his abilities." You know she means it as a joke and to tease you, but you can't help a tug of suspicion in your stomach. Still, you have no right to. You and Norman don't have an established relationship, so you couldn't stop them if it happened.

"He's there, I'm sure if you proposed he wouldn't give it much thought." You try to play along with his joke, but your voice wavers for a second.

"And it'd make me a shitty friend, plus Norman's not my type." She shrugs. "Have things changed between you?" she ventures to ask.

"No... I remember you were the one who told me not to say anything to him." You look at her curiously. "And I actually think it's for the best... I'll have fewer headaches. If I focus on it being a sexual-only relationship, that outside of that we're just friends... I don't feel as much anxiety." You try to convince yourself, Lauren looks at you wanting to believe it too.

"I think whatever you do it's going to hurt just the same...I know that's not great advice, I'm sorry."

"I consider you a good friend because you're always honest with me, and I appreciate that. I'm not going to get my hopes up about him, but I'm going to..."

"Who aren't you going to get your hopes up about?" You hear close to where you are and your heart stops for a second.

Norman is in front of you, playing with a finished water bottle in his hands, his eyes are dwarfed from the direct sun, but he has a curious look on his face. You're cut off at the drop of a hat, but Lauren speaks for you.

"We were talking about boys." She comments and that gets the actor's attention even more. "There's a guy who wants to date her." She lies and you open your eyes wide. "I was telling her to try it, that she might like it."

"Really?" Norman's voice sounds like a squeak. "Who is it? You hadn't told me anything."

"I didn't..." You stammer, but clear your throat, trying to appear normal. "I didn't think you cared."

"It's not that... well we're friends, I thought you had confidence for that..." He tries to justify himself.

"It's just that we haven't talked much yet... we're just getting to know each other." You lie to him too, you don't even know why you're playing along with Cohan, but the grimace of doubt on Norman's face forces you to lie.

"Okay..." It's the last thing he says before he walks away, leaving you alone again.

"Can you explain what that was about?" You ask your friend.

"I think Norman has gotten used to having you whenever he feels like it, you always go along with his plan, well maybe that he thinks you're no longer as available as he wants you to be... he moves things around."

"What if he moves them for the worse? I don't want to lose what we have either."

But Lauren doesn't respond, she just shrugs, leaving you there again, as she does have some more scene to shoot with her father and future husband. You smile, you like the story they are building for her character, Maggie, there is going to be a lot of drama for her, but she is still a strong character that is growing and changing with each new season. Your character has also changed since your first scene in Atlanta. You've gone from a scary woman to a strong, feisty woman, you've been taught how to shoot and fight and the dead have become your focus, as well as protecting those you now consider your family, of course. Plus having Daryl by your side, is a moral support your character needs to keep developing, you are also going to have ups and downs with some appearances like Merle and doubts in Daryl that will make them falter a bit, but you like the subplot they are forming for the two of you. You have to admit that at first it was a little scary being Daryl Dixon's girlfriend, everyone had accepted the redneck with their arms up in the air and at first your character was just the vixen who had dropped her panties for him. There was a lot of back and forth, awkward questions at conventions and really hairy situations on the internet, but as the episodes went on people came to accept what was being created and your relationship is now well received, although there are still misgivings on some sides.

That night you prepare for a quiet dinner in your caravan. You stopped filming a few hours ago. The skies in Georgia were getting rough and at that time of year it's best not to push your luck when a storm rolls in, so you stopped all filming and returned to your caravans. In the distance you hear the storm brewing as you settle into your couch, legs propped up on the cushion as you stir the food before you start. You hear knocking on the door of your trailer and you stand still for a moment, instinctively looking at your cell phone for a message from Norman, but there is nothing. The knocking is repeated, you leave your food on the table and get up, wiping your hands before opening the door. Norman is on the other side, chewing his lip several times, he's wearing his usual clothes, but between his hands he's wringing out what looks like his character's script.

"Norman?" You look at him in confusion.

"Did I catch you busy? I can come back another time."

"N-no I was just going to grab some dinner, nothing else, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's just that I was going over the script between our characters and there are a couple of scenes I'd like to go over..."

"Okay... Now?" you're still a little confused, but he nods. If it's some method to get through the night with you, it's the first time he's used that tactic. It's not like he needs an excuse to show up there either, really. "It's okay, come in." You offer and leave the door open, walking back to your couch. "Do you want something to eat?"

"No, I had something to eat in my trailer before I came." He shrugs and sits down next to you.

"Good, then I'll take my diner later."

"No, finish up, I came unannounced. I don't mind waiting." He says sincerely and stands up then points to your kitchen. "Can I grab a beer?"

"Yeah, sure, help yourself." You smile picking up your plate again.

You don't like beer, its bitter taste has always been unpleasant on your tongue, but since you started with the series you always have some in the fridge for when you have company, not only from Norman, also from your friends or when you have a birthday party or when the end of the season recording is near, to celebrate that the work is almost done. You like to watch Norman move naturally and normally around your 'house' knowing every nook and cranny, where things are, where you keep them and what he can and can't touch. Again he sits down next to you taking a swig of his beer and puts a juice next to your plate. You smile and your heart flips, maybe you wouldn't really give it a thought, but it's funny how much the man seems to know you.

"What is it?" You decide to cut through the silence, focus on why he's there with you.

"The scene?" he shakes his head as you nod. "I notice they're making Daryl very..." He remains quiet, searching for the word. "Social? My intention is to make him weird and distrustful, he may have loyalty to the group, but with his wariness, like in the early seasons, but since he's had a girlfriend they're making him a cheesy guy." He explains, you get a chuckle and he smiles amused. "No offense, I love spending time with you, honey, but I'm a guy from the mountains, an alpha male, a hunter, troubled, with a shitty past. You can't melt me like that." He jokes and your laughter grows louder.

"Oh forgive me, Mr. badass for turning you human." You joke once again, his sly grin charms you and always gives you goosebumps. "What's your plan?"

"I want him to love his family, his girl, but in his own way, I want to study the script with you and see how I can fit it in without making it too weird or cold... Does that make sense?"

"Okay, we can try a few scenes and see what we get out of it."

Norman seems content with your words. He takes one more drink of his beer, you're finishing your dinner, in the distance you can hear the thunder of the storm. You've never had a problem with them, you like them, the smell of wet grass has always relaxed you, but when the lights on your trailer flicker you can't help but worry.

"There's a good storm coming." Your coworker comments and you nod.

"Looks like it... it's not like it's the first time we've had to work in pouring rain." You say and he nods.

"Worst week of my life, I don't think I've ever had so much snot." He jokes and you laugh again.

"You were still the cutest redneck on the set." You poke him and he snorts in amusement.

"I love you too, honey." He says with a teasing tinge. "Shall we practice a little?" he offers and you nod.

Because the storm seems to be getting closer and closer, you decide to stay in your trailer to rehearse dialogue, after picking up all your dinner, you look up your own manuscript of your character so you can reply to his, to create the scene between you as best you can. When Norman starts talking you realize right away what he's referring to. Daryl has taken a drastic turn with his personality, you're sure people will like that he's more approachable, that he wants to take care of his friends and the place they now want to call home, but for you it's also hard to fit in that the hunter is all the time thinking about your character or talking about her, using all those affectionate nicknames. Corny, as Norman has defined it.

"Okay, I see where your concern lies." You tell him after rehearsing a few sentences.

"Right? That's not my Daryl... I don't know if I should talk to Greg and the others..." He comments scratching the back of his neck.

"Greg always listens to you when there's something about Daryl that worries you, maybe between the two of you you can find a balance."

"I'll talk to him first thing..." He nods, a loud rumble makes you both jump. The storm is over the recording area. "Maybe I should get back before it starts raining."

"Why don't you stay?" You invite him feeling your pulse quicken. "It could be dangerous..."

"Are you afraid I might get struck by lightning?" he says amused, but you're not amused.

The weather in that part of the state at that time of year can be unstable and dangerous, it's an area of possible hurricanes, flooding from big storms and some landslides, so Norman joking about a possible lightning strike hitting you might be more possible than hitting the lottery.

"I'm just saying stay over, you can use the couch, if you want..." You insist, Norman watches you carefully, sighs and opens the door to the caravan.

"Come on, you'll see, it's just a storm." He takes your hand and you both get out of the vehicle.

You regret having followed him the second your feet touch the ground, the place starts to get wet from a very fine rain that is shaken by a wind that is getting stronger and stronger, swirling your clothes and hair. The eye of the storm is right above you, the clouds, even though it is night, look completely black, lightning appears and disappears inside them, illuminating them, a whirlpool is forming right above the film set, those huge clouds seem to be creating the eye of the hurricane and fear takes hold of you. It's not a normal storm, it doesn't even look like a storm, it's more like it wants to absorb the place, but no one else has noticed, around you everything remains impassive, your companions are sleeping in their caravans, oblivious to the strong wind and the violent movement of all the objects around you. You look at Norman, his retort about there being nothing wrong with this storm has seemed to die in his mouth, his eyes are wide open, fixed on the cumulus clouds above you. The roar of thunder takes over the whole place, you jump in place when a bolt of lightning strikes directly on the ground, bursting the grass there into several pieces, creating a tiny crater. But it's not the only one, several bolts of lightning strike the ground around you, getting closer and closer. You look at Norman and hear the roar of thunder, not far away again.

"Norman!" you shout at the top of your lungs.

You reach out, wanting to grab his arm, to pull him out of the way, but you watch, helplessly, as the lightning flashes through his body, illuminating his insides like a light bulb. It passes through him completely, the electric sensation runs through every inch of his body until it is released through his fingertips, the discharge connects with your own fingers, your hand outstretched towards him receives the impact. The scream of pain dies into nothingness, the pain is intense and runs up and down you, you feel a burning sensation envelop you. You close your eyes, your body jerks and you feel yourself being pushed backwards. Before you hit the ground. You are already unconscious.

***************

You gasp loudly, opening your eyes with a start. You sit up, rubbing your body, looking for some sign on your skin, some high degree burn due to the reach of the lightning. That it was something impossible to happen. You plan to laugh in Norman's face as soon as you....

Norman.

You remember how the lightning struck his body, how it went through him like butter, you could see how his skin glowed, how it seemed to burn inside as you reached out to pull him out of the beam's path. You get up from the ground quickly, or at least as fast as your aching body allows you, the jolt you received was also violent, although it was not a direct hit, the force was also massive. You gasp looking around you, in search of your co-worker, but at the same time you want to find out what happened to the rest of the set, as you perfectly remember the lightning striking the ground uncontrollably. The fear that someone else might have been hurt shakes you.

But nothing.

Everything is fine, in fact the sky is clear, the heat is gradually taking over your skin, you hear the rustle of the birds that dawn along with the day, the earth is not wet, the craters created by the storm, don't exist, in front of you stands the prison, you are in the front yard, where all the recording equipment should be settled. But no one is there. A whimper not far from where you are catches your attention.

"My God, Norman!" you groan, running to him, kneeling beside him and helping him up from the ground, slowly. "Slowly, slowly..." You whisper and push the dirty strands of his hair away from his face, he grunts once again.

"What the fuck happened?" he snaps painfully and you deny. You don't quite know what to say.

"Do you remember the storm last night?" you try to inquire, he seems hesitant, but then hums a yes. "I think the lightning knocked us out and..." You gasp when Norman finally lifts his head. You swallow hard and scan his face in anguish.

His neck, and part of his jaw, are scarred by a rather nasty wound, it's the trace of the lightning. Where it entered, burning his skin, the shape of his jaw, going down the left side of his neck, getting lost inside his clothes, everything is a burn, you've heard and read about similar phenomena, marks left by lightning strikes on people, creating trees of light on their skin, but this is real now, it's not an article in a magazine, Norman's skin is decorated with that burn and it hurts just looking at it.

"My God..." You whisper without taking your eyes off him.

"Fuck, what happened to you?" he asks, worried.

To you? More like the question would be, what happened to him, but before you can open your mouth, Norman twists your head carefully and touches your neck. It doesn't hurt, but when his fingers touch your skin you feel it more sensitive than usual. Then you understand that you have a similar mark to his, the lightning also went through you, so it makes sense that you both have similar tattoos.

"Does it hurt?" You hear him ask you, but you shake your head.

"It's weird... it's like the whole area is numb." You say sincerely and touch his neck. "Does it hurt you?"

"No... I think my butt hurts more from the fall." He jokes and you can't help but laugh. "Sorry..." His apology makes you look at him confused. "You tried to warn me and I didn't listen... you're hurt because of me..."

"No, no... it's not your fault, it's a miracle we're both..."

"Hey, you two, is that how you stand guard? At least find yourselves a tower like Glenn and Maggie do." You hear not too far away.

You raise your heads at the same time, Andy isn't too far from where you guys are sitting on the ground. You're relieved to see that he's okay, that the storm passed without hurting anyone else, Andy is already dressed in his Rick clothes, which makes you think that it's late, that the shooting will start shortly and you're not ready yet.

"Shit, Norman, they're going to kill us." You say getting up and helping him up.

Your eyes then notice a detail that had gone unnoticed until now. Norman is wearing his Daryl clothes, the wing vest, his baggy pants, the red bandana in the back pocket of his pants, the hiking boots and... God, is that smell coming from him? You wrinkle your nose as you take a step back. Norman seems to notice and lifts his arm to sniff his own armpit.

"Hey, it's not me... well, it kinda is, but I showered yesterday, that smell isn't me." He defends himself by shaking his head.

You look around you at the side of the fence there are several extras disguised as zombies who keep panting and pushing against the metal barrier. The smell is coming from them, a mixture of blood and rotting flesh that turns your stomach.

"I think they've gone too far with the credibility of the dead..." You protest and Norman nods.

"Come on with the others, let's get something to eat before we get to filming."

"I think we should go to the hospital and get this looked at... I don't know if it's good..." You say shaking your head.

"If you guys aren't going to do your on-call shift, at least give us a heads up so someone can cover for you." Andy says when you reach his side.

"Sorry man, give me a moment and I'll get on it now, I need to get something to eat." Norman replies walking past.

"What?" asks the Brit with a frown.

"We had an accident last night with the storm, I think we're going to talk to Greg about letting us go to the hospital." You explain to Andy who opens his eyes wide.

"Who is Greg, what hospital do you intend to go to?" There is nervousness and disbelief in his voice.

"Look, Andy, I feel like a rag right now, I'm not in the mood for jokes." Norman speaks again and you watch silently as the other man's face doesn't improve.

"You called me Andy?"

"Well, okay; I got struck by fuckin' lightnin' tonight, my body hurts like hell, I just wanna eat somethin' and then get my fuckin' wound looked at, is that okay with ya, Rick?" he says with a growl at the end of the sentence, his southern accent coming out like every time he plays Daryl and you feel your core tighten at his angry tone.

"Okay, sorry, it's just... yeah, sure, go get something to eat." Andy mumbles, feeling a little uncomfortable at his partner's pissed off tone.

You look at Andrew apologetically and walk faster behind Norman to catch up, grab his hand and tug lightly to get his attention.

"Calm down, he's not to blame."

"I know, but did you see how he was looking at us? And who's Greg, really? I'm not in the mood for bullshit right now." He admits entering the cell area.

You follow him, the damp cold of the place welcomes you, something doesn't quite fit, where are the cameras? Where is the technical equipment? Your filming partners are there, but no one else, Melissa is preparing something to eat, Lauren is with Steven talking to the side, Emily with Chandler. They all seem immersed in their roles, they look at you as you enter and there is a smile on their mouths, they all say good morning to you, Norman stands there for a moment, he too has detected something that scolds him, you can tell by the way he frowns and purses his lips.

"Good morning lovebirds, would you like something to eat?" speaks Melissa.

"Thanks, but we're going to leave the set for a moment." You speak first, leaving Norman to continue thinking about what's bothering him.

"Off the set? Are you guys going out to explore? It seems to me that Rick wanted to clean up the area some more, find the cafeteria and the infirmary..." The white-haired woman comments and you frown.

Everything seems to follow the story line of the TV series, but on the other hand there are some differences that grate on your ear, technically when your characters make their way inside the prison, you already find the cafeteria and Hershel gets hurt, but here they are just gathering strength to continue exploring inside, they haven't found the prisoners who are still alive in there... you look sideways at Norman and realize that he has also discovered that detail. Something doesn't add up and you start to worry.

"Are you all right?" Emily walks over to you. "What happened to you?" she asks as she looks at the marks on your skin.

"Lightning struck us tonight." Norman replies. "We need someone to look at us and..." He falls silent as he sees they all look at him with wide eyes. "What?"

"What, what's wrong with your voice?" asks Melissa. "Since when do you talk like a city boy?"

The blood ices in your veins. You glance sideways at Norman who he seems to be holding his breath. God, there's something seriously wrong here. Norman snorts, fed up with the whole thing.

"What the fuck's wrong with y'all?"

"Ah, no, there it is, I thought so..." Melissa comments and goes on with what she's doing.

"But..."

"Daryl." You call out to him and he looks at you confused as your hand grips his arm. "Come with me for a moment, come on." You ask him and taking his hand, you walk away from the group, towards the cell area.

"What?"

"What? don't you think there's something strange here?"

"I'm not the only one who smells barbecue?"

"Yeah, that's... what? No… do you smell barbecue? Are you having a stroke?"

"That would make more sense than what's going on here."he grunts looking over your shoulder, toward the door. "Is it just me or is everyone acting really weird?"

"Yes! That's what I was trying to tell you." You fidget nervously. "Where are the filming people? Where's Greg or Angela? What about our trailers and the whole area for the technical crew personnel?" You list, he nods, reaches into his pants and pulls out his phone. "And you're dressed like Daryl, yesterday when you came to see me you were in your normal clothes."

"You're in your character's clothes too." He points grabbing the edge of your shirt. "Oh, and look at that." He lifts the shirt a little more looking at your hip.

"Norman, I don't think now is the best time..."

"It's not that, look." He insists and you look down.

What the hell? You quickly look for a mirror to look at your reflection in, lift up your two layers of t-shirts and discover that on your side, along your ribs towards your hip bone, is a long tattoo that has only been seen on your character on a few occasions, the first at the CDC on her night with Daryl, but you don't have any tattoos. You've always liked them, but you've never settled on any. Norman slowly approaches, his fingers caressing the shape of the Yggdrasil tree roots that stray down the waistband of your pants.

"It matches your new tattoo." He whispers, brushing against the lightning mark on your neck.

"Norman...you can't be getting horny now...seriously." You scold him and he growls low.

"It's not my fault, I always liked the way this tattoo looks on you, you should get a real one." He comments in your ear, his fingers rubbing the lines of the tattoo, but it doesn't fade.

"Well, it looks pretty real to me..." You turn away from him, his excitement turns to confusion and his growing erection stops.

"What's going on?" He looks at his phone again and discover there's no signal. "Shit, the lightning must have messed up the phone."

"I don't think that's it..." You whisper and look for yours, no signal either.

"Okay, say it, surprise me with your crazy idea." He says exasperated by the whole situation.

"What if we're inside the TV series? What if we're Daryl and my character for real? Or at least they think we are? What if they're all Rick, Carol, Maggie, Glenn..."

"No, are you kidding me? No." He shakes his head. "I can't be Daryl, I have no aim, I can't track, the wildest thing I've ever done in my life was cut Eye's fingernails and he almost took my eyes out. I can stick an arrow in my own foot." He protests like a little kid and you have to bite back a laugh.

That's right, Norman is the complete opposite of Daryl, and yes, you know his cat and you love how feral he becomes when his master tries to do anything to him. Norman shoots you a pointed look, you raise your hand in peace, nodding your head.

"I'm not like my character either, I've never fired a gun and I'm certainly not as agile, nor as flexible as her, I've never fought anyone hand to hand..."

"You seem pretty flexible to me..."

"Norman!" You scold him again. "Please take it seriously!"

"I can't! This is absurd! What do you expect us to do? Pretend we're our characters and what? Fight the dead? We know what's going to happen and there's nothing pretty."

"I know that, but we have to do something!" You're quiet for a moment, thoughtful. Norman is right, you guys know what's going to happen all season, all the partners you're going to lose, the new ones coming in... the Governor.... "This is crazy..."

"I think we should wake them all up, or maybe we should wake up ourselves, it's possible that with the lightning we've gone into a coma or something."

"And we're both living the same thing? Come on."

"Maybe you're a hallucination, or maybe I'm a hallucination..." You cut off what he's saying by giving him a gentle slap. Norman looks at you with wide eyes. "What was that all about!"

"Did that hurt? Then you're not a hallucination, and neither am I. There's something very ugly going on here. And we have to find out what it is."

"How can you be so calm?"

"I'm not, Norman! But I'm trying to be rational and think something logical. I want to go home, I want to go back to our world. I don't like zombies, I don't like having to kill or watch anyone die. Have you thought about the possibility that we could die here? If one of those things bites us or if someone shoots us..."

"Shit..." he gasps as he becomes aware of that. "We have to get out of here..."

"Is everything okay?"

You both jump at the same time, in front of your cell door is Melissa, or Carol, looking at you with concern, you throat clears and shake your head.

"A-all right, Mel... Carol, thank you." You smile.

"...Rick wants you to join him to go with the group..."

"Sure, we'll be right there." You nod and the woman disappears again.

"Are you crazy? What did we just talk about?"

"If we don't go they'll get suspicious!"

"Maybe we should tell them what's going on."

"Sure, like that will solve it... We just have to pretend a little, at night we'll leave here and look for some solution, maybe with a new storm we'll be home again."

"Do you really think it will be that easy?"

No, you don't think so, but you don't know what else to think either, you sigh giving him a few gentle taps on the chest and leave the cell to join the rest of the group.  Andy or Rick, the truth makes it hard for you to call him by the name that should be his, Norman follows you a few steps behind, you notice him uncomfortable and nervous, which is good, it may seem that the prison situation is what makes him uneasy, although you know it's the situation in general, wanting to go home. Rick makes the group to go find the cafeteria, Norman, or Daryl, has to go with them and the actor tenses up like a rope, if they had to film that scene, he'd be the first to dive into the darkness of the hallway, but knowing he may not make it out of there, the fear, the caution, takes over.

"Okay, let's go." You say when Rick calls out your character's name.

"Daryl, I want you to go close to me, covering my right side." Rick continues to speak, Norman is clueless, looking around. "Daryl? Are you listening to me?" he looks at him confused, but Norman continues to ignore him.

"Daryl!" You nudge him, Norman quickly turns his head towards you.

"Shit, what? What's wrong?"

"Rick's talking to you..." You look at him intensely, Norman needs a second, but then nods and looks at the sheriff.

"Yeah, sure, sorry, it's just... I still can't believe we found this place." He apologizes to his friend and gives you a sidelong glance.

"Okay, let's get going, I want everyone on alert."

You start walking, Norman holds you for a moment and you look at him confused.

"I don't know if it's a good idea for you to go in..." He comments quietly.

"I know what you mean, but we have to follow the story line, what would happen if we don't?"

"We don't know and I'm not going to risk you to find out." he assures you, you frown slightly, surprised by his words. 

"You have a boyfriend waiting for you, don't you? It would be hard to explain it to him if something happened to you."

"Boyfriend... Norman, I don't... that thing we were talking about with Lauren, it wasn't..."

"Guys." Rick's voice catches your attention. "Don't hang back, we have to do this."

"We're coming. We'll talk later." Norman says to you, grabbing the crossbow as he usually does on the shoot.

The darkness is total, you both walk with your hearts in your mouths, you play with the advantage factor that you know what's going to happen, but that doesn't make it any less scary. At any moment a small group of dead will corner you and force you to run, Hershel will get a bite and....

"Watch out!" You hear Rick.

Here they come. Rick looks at Norman, he loads the crossbow and fires. The shot is absurd, it doesn't even hit the zombie, the sheriff's look at him makes Norman cringe. But it's not his fault, he doesn't see shit there, he's practiced with the crossbow once, but he hasn't mastered it enough to be able to use it in a situation like that. He's not Daryl. Behind you you hear Hershel's scream, you quickly grab it leading the group towards the cafeteria to continue with the scene.

It's brutal and terrifying to watch Rick's axe cut through the flesh and bone of the old man's leg, splattering blood everywhere. On set things never have that much detail, there's always computer editing, a little fake blood and it changes to something else, but that's just too much. You feel your stomach turn and you look around for a place to throw up, but Norman keeps you at his side.

"Hang in there...remember we're not alone." He whispers in your ear.

Right, the prisoners, Axel, Oscar and the others... you take a deep breath to control your nausea, Norman then releases you to hold the crossbow and point it at your spotters.

"Rick..." he calls out to his friend, though he struggles not to use his real name.

There in front of you are the small group of prisoners, shocked by what they have witnessed, you would like to say something to keep them away from the group, but Hershel is priority and you take him back to the cells, as planned in the series. Everything is much more chaotic than you expect, the screams, the fear, the blood, the sobs and the confusion of Hershel's daughters, not to mention the inmates following you, Andrew, Rick, does not let them continue to the cells where the rest try to stabilize the old man. Norman, taking his role, aims at them with the crossbow, there he has better visibility and his aim is also better. You stay close too, with your hand on your gun, although you doubt you can use it.

"What's going on?" asks Tomas, a man with long black hair.

"That's not your problem. You're free now, you can leave if you want." Rick speaks.

"Leave? As soon as we set foot out there..."

"There's nothing out there anymore." Norman replies, following his character's line. "You're in luck, guys. Your second chance..."

"How long have you guys been locked in the cafeteria?"

"There was a riot, one of the cops locked you guys in there saying he'd go get reinforcements... I guess he didn't make it." Axel speaks.

"There's no one left, we've been cleaning out the prison, it's ours now." Rick explains and Tomas bristles like a cat.

"Ours? Seems to me that's not how this works..."

"I don't care what you think, we've fought those things out there, we've spilled blood. We're not turning this place over to you." Rick assures him with a dangerous tone.

"Si de verdad crees, huevón, que nos vamos a ir con las manos vacías…" (If you really think, asshole, that we're going to walk away empty-handed…) Tomas says, defiant again.

"Te conviene hacer caso a lo que este huevón te dice, o sufrirás las consecuencias."(You'd better listen to what this asshole tells you, or you'll suffer the consequences).Norman quickly replies in mumbled Spanish.

Again, all eyes fall on the Georgia redneck's interpreter. You have your eyes widened to the max, Norman clearly still doesn't realize what he's done.

"Do you know Spanish?" asks T-Dog.

"I was living in Spain for a while." Norman replies again and then something clicks in his mind. "Shit..." He whispers.

"In Spain? What did you miss there?" the man still can't believe it, though he's not the only one.

"I, uhm... well I... we went hunting. Yes, that... we were invited to hunt..." He lies horribly, you feel like digging a hole in the ground and crawling inside, Glenn rolls his eyes.

"Like there are no animals in Georgia..." He comments shaking his head.

"Never mind, if you guys want to stay in the prison there are other blocks you can use." Rick speaks again, catching the attention of the others. "We'll split the cafeteria supplies, of what's left, we'll take half."

"Half? Are you out of your mind?"

"Half, or we can leave you on the street and keep it all, you have a choice."

Your mind disconnects from the conversation, you've already heard that dialogue several times and you know how it's going to end, unfortunately that's not the only thing you and Norman know is going to happen, when you lead the group to the cafeteria again you're going to lose Big Tiny, you remember the actor who played that character, he was kind and nice, you liked him the days you were filming those scenes, thinking that here he's going to die for real makes your eyes fill with tears.

Everything becomes a huge I want and I can't, you would love to warn the prisoner to be careful, stay close to him to help him and protect him, but no matter what you do, his fate is cast and he is wounded before you can plan it, also Tomas shoots him without giving you time to think of something, you stay in shock, looking around you. The tension, the fear, the anxiety that runs and shakes your whole body is such that you feel short of breath. You can't, that world is not made for you, seen through the cameras, feeling the team always close, seeing the funny faces of the teammates and hearing from afar "Cut" and everyone coming back to life... God how you miss all that. You wish you could open your eyes and wake up, that it was all just a bad dream.

But you can't, and Tomas' blood crashes and stains your face as Rick is unceremonious and drives the machete into his head. You gasp from the shock of the impact of the blood, but you are unable to move. Your body doesn't react.

"Are you okay?" You hear Norman's voice next to you. You have returned to the cells, thinking about what you are going to do with Axel and Oscar. You are sitting on the front steps, Norman is carrying a bucket of water and wiping the remains of the blood from your face. "Hey, talk to me."

"I want to go home..." You whisper with a blank stare.

"I know, and we're going home, remember? You said so..." He tries to cheer you up by wiping the traces of blood off your cheek.

"What if we don't make it, what if we die here? Or this is our world now, there's no turning back, I don't know how to fight, I don't know how to shoot... and you..."

"Hey, hey, breathe, calm down." He holds your face in his hands. "No, okay? No. We'll get through this, we'll go home, everything will go on as usual. There's got to be an explanation why we're here..."

"Someone hates us?"

"And has theh done voodoo on us? It's very possible, but I am a beautiful person, I have no enemies." He jokes and a small giggle escapes you, he smiles at the sight of you laughing, strokes the tip of your nose and leans in, kissing the top of your head. "You can't leave me alone in this, honey, I need you." He confesses to you and you feel your heart race.

"O-okay... I'm sorry I got like this..."

"Come here." He whispers hugging you tightly.

You love it when Norman does that, you've always felt protected in his arms, you sigh and feel the anxiety and nerves subside a little, though they're still under your skin, alert.

"Norman..."

"Yes, babygirl?"

"You still smell terrible..." You comment and hear him laugh, breaking the hug.

"It's not my fault, it's part of the character."

"You've never smelled like that, you always smell like..." You see his smile grow wider and your cheeks redden, without realizing it you've given too much detail at best.

"Guys, let's step up the guards." Rick walks over to you and you're thankful the mood lightens. "Now that we've got Oscar and Axel hanging around, I don't want them coming anywhere near our ward, and until Hershel wakes up..."

"Sure, count on it." You nod your head.

"Are you okay?" the Sheriff asks you and you nod.

"Worried about Hershel, nothing more." You try to reassure him.

You all meet for dinner, Hershel is still unchanged in his condition, Carl has found the infirmary, Lori has gone ballistic, but everyone is relieved that they can take care of the man properly, you think about the infirmary, the library down the block too, maybe you could take a look there, look for a clue in the books about what has happened to you. You know it's crazy, but maybe there is some similar phenomenon that can help you. At dinner you don't talk too much, with the new provisions your stomachs are full, although you and Norman weren't as hungry as the rest. That night Maggie and Glenn offer to stand guard for you, the rest of you divide up your chores for the next day and go to your cells. You sit on your bunk and it feels hard and cold, colder than you remember, you hear footsteps and raise your head, Norman is at the door, watching you.

"Is something wrong?" You look at him worriedly, but he shakes his head, stepping into the cell.

"We're supposed to be our characters... who are boyfriend and girlfriend..."

"Norman... I really don't feel like sex today..." The anxiety is too strong in your body to think of anything else.

"I didn't... I didn't mean that, although I wouldn't say no, if you feel like a quick fuck..."

"Norman..."

"Okay, what I mean, is that... if we're boyfriend and girlfriend, it would look weird if we didn't share a cell, you know, like in the show..." He looks at you, raising his eyebrows, trying to sound coherent. 

"Oh, that..." You look thoughtful as he sits down next to you, watching you silently.

"We can put the mattresses on the floor, so we can both sleep better, I promise I don't snore... at least not much." He jokes with the last part and you let out a chuckle.

"You're an idiot, but I think it's a good idea..." You nod.

Between the two of you arrange the room for the two of you, you cross the mattresses and then place the sheets on top, it's not cold but the damp prison environment makes a thin sheet nice to sleep on at night. You hesitate, you are nervous, after so much insisting, you are finally going to have Norman sleeping with you, you would like it to be in a completely different situation, but you plan to take advantage of it. You sit on the edge to take off your boots, putting them aside. Norman mimics you by sitting on the other side, he sheds his clothes and you watch him.

"Shit..." You whisper and reach out.

His scars, Daryl's scars, are there too, even the mark left by the arrow he put in himself, never seen again in the series, but Norman's body retains it. It's all so real.

"What's wrong?" he looks at you worriedly.

"It's the scars..."

"That too? I think someone hates me." He snorts in annoyance. You can't contain yourself and kiss the marks on his shoulder blade, Norman hums at the sensation. "If you don't want sex, don't provoke me...I'm an easy man."

"Sorry." You let out a giggle and settle back on your side of the bed.

You feel Norman do the same, the two of you lying on your backs, staring at the prison ceiling. Maybe it's all a dream. Maybe it will all be over tomorrow. Maybe you'll close your eyes and when you open them again you'll be home.

Maybe...

In the distance, a storm forms, thunder and lightning envelop the area, the black clouds have an unnatural greenish glow. Neither of you are aware of its existence, sleep has won you over and you are rocked in deep dreams.

.

.

To be continued...

.

See you in the next stories!

Taglist: @minervadashwood @green-eyedladywrites @livingdeadblondequeen @phoenixblack89

[sunshinepanic]

Blood and Starlight - CH03

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Maybe drinking wasn't such a good idea. Waking up to a pissed off Daryl really wasn't in your plans.

Chapter Warning: Anxiety, Swearing, Angst

WC: 1,212

Note: Sorry this is taking so long. I have no excuses.

Nothing is beta read we die like men.

Series Masterlist - TWD Masterlist

Everyone at the prison was celebrating, what your not sure, maybe just the fact that you were all together and safe for once. Glenn and Rick had found a box of booze in the wardens office so everyone was sitting around drinking and socializing. Rick and Hershel are talking while Glenn and Maggie are cuddled up together seemingly in their own little world. Carl and Beth are playing with Judith and Daryl is with Carol in the corner talking quietly amongst themselves.

It's been a long time since you drank but celebrating what little you have now seems like a good reason. Your sitting on the stairs drinking from a bottle of tequila that I you snatched from the crate Rick and Glenn found, observing this little group that you’re starting to call your family. You look over and see a small smirk playing on Daryl's face from something Carol is saying. All of a sudden Beth brings Judith over to Daryl and she takes off to her cell. As you look back over to Daryl he is holding Judith feeding her a bottle and looking at her with a small smile on his face, it may just be one of the cutest things you’ve ever seen.

As you sit and stare you can feel your throat constrict. This room feels to small and it's getting kind of hard to breathe. You grab your bottle and quickly make your way outside of the prison ignoring the ache you feel through your entire body.

It's pouring down rain outside and it's pitch black out but you don't mind. The rain helps you calm down. You sit down on the pavement outside and let the rain soak through your clothes as you drink from the bottle of tequila and stare out at the fence. You trace the swirls of your tattoo on my left thigh through your jeans and you can feel the itch to run under your skin.

Daryl POV

I was getting ready to go on a hunting trip and Rick thought it would be a good idea for me to take Y/N along with me. Normally I would protest but I think it would be good for her to get out of here for a little bit, problem is I can't seem to find her anywhere.

I found Maggie and Glenn up in the watch tower. " Hey have you guys seen Y/N anywhere?" I asked trying not to sound panicked. Maggie scrunched her eyebrows, "If anyone would know where Y/N is it would be you. You guys are practically joined at the hip." I scoff shaking my head. " That's not true." Maggie just gives me an are you serious look while Glenn chuckles behind his hand. " Any time we want to find you or Y/N we just look for one of you because the other is usually near there. You guys like orbit around each other or something, but I haven't seen her since last night."

Now I'm worried. Y/N doesn't seem to be anywhere in the prison. I make my way back out towards my bike hoping I might be able to track her if she did leave.

About a mile down the road I spot a tequila bottle dropped on the side of the road going off into the trees. I stash my bike inside the tree line and start following the small signs through the woods. As I approach a clearing in the trees I spot a cabin. Checking the perimeter it looks to be clear.

Making my way into the cabin I notice the clothes Y/N was wearing the night before strewn across the floor. As I enter the back room I find Y/N covered by a dingy sheet fast asleep. Taking a moment to be thankful she is alright I look her over taking in the sight of her tattooed arms and the tattoos on her right leg that is sticking out of the sheet. Shaking myself out of admiring the artwork on her body I kick the cot she's sleeping on.

Y/N POV

You woke with a start. Clutching your knife in one hand holding the sheet to your body with the other. Daryl dodged you swiping at him with the knife.

As you realized it was Daryl your adrenaline calmed and you caught your breath. "Jesus Christ Daryl! What the fuck are you doing?" He looked at you in disbelief. "Me!? What the hell are you doing out here in some random fucking cabin? You took off ain't no one know where the fuck you were! I thought you were dead!" Daryl yelled in his gruff voice.

You looked up at him from behind your hair seeing in his bright blue eyes how worried and angry he actually is. You bit your lower lip. Sighing you stood up and started walking out of the room. Daryl growled, "where in the hell do you think you're going?" You turned to look back at Daryl. "I need to be about ninety percent less naked in order for me to endure this conversation that I see no way for me to get out of, so I'm going to put my clothes back on and you can rip my head off once we get back to the prison." Daryl was fuming as he shoved past her making his way outside.

The trip back to the prison was excruciatingly quiet. The tension coming off of Daryl was so bad you couldn't even bring herself to enjoy being wrapped around him on the back of his bike.

Pulling up to the prison you made a beeline for your cell while Daryl got caught up telling Rick where he found you. Of course you didn't escape for long. Daryl pushed through the curtain to your cell. " You going to tell me what the fuck happened?" Huffing you turned to look at him. "Nothing I got drunk and went to get some air last night, and then I just had this urge to go outside the fence. I was going to come back." Scoffing Daryl threw his hands up, "So because you planned on coming back that's supposed to make it better?" You sighed. "I needed to get out okay? I rarely go out of the fence and I was starting to feel like a fucking caged animal. You can't tell me you don't know how that feels. I can tell you get antsy when you have been in here to long and no one questions it when you disappear for days at a time. I won't apologize for going but I will apologize for not telling someone where I was going. I didn't mean to worry you." Daryl growled "Whatever, fucking tell someone next time so I don't end up having to be your fucking babysitter I got better shit to do." Daryl grunted and made his way out of your cell. You yelled after him, "I never fucking asked you to come find me!" You got no response and collapsed into your bed. You could feel a familiar burning in Y/E/C eyes but you refused to cry. You hadn't cried since you lost your family and you damn sure weren’t going to cry over Daryl Dixon.

Tags: @cole22ann

[littlemessyjessi]

“Full of Surprises”: Negan Imagine

Negan Imagine #MANCRUSHMONDAY #MCM  Negan x Reader : PS Reader, Plus Size Reader, Tattooed reader 

Imagine impressing Negan with how you handle yourself ....

I’d met Negan on a run. 

I’d been seperated from my group at the time- per my choice. 

I was tired of the drama and figured I’d be better off on my own. 

And ya know- that kinda worked for a bit. 

But fuck- sometimes there’s truth in that whole strength in numbers then. 

So there I was, catapulting myself across the cars of a junkyard. 

Thanking god, or whoever, was up there for years of doing gymnastics as a kid and young adult. 

I hadn’t done much of it in years but I guess muscle memory and all that shit. 

So there I was acting like I was up next at the fucking Olympics when I hear the most awful amount of ruckus. 

I mean, I figured I’d be walker shit in a few hours anyway but then I see this tall son of a bitch in the distance. 

Swinging a fucking baseball bat six ways from Sunday and enough man power to scare the shit out of anyone. 

You could see how I’d be a little apprehensive but considering that they’d basically just saved my ass from being walker shit....I held back the undeniable amounts of sass. 

Hell, I didn’t know this man! 

For all I knew, he’d saved me just so he could bash my brains in. 

Judging by the healthy glow to his skin and swagger in his step...he seemed well fed and doing pretty good in this shitbox of a life at the moment. 

And in the state of the world at the current moment? 

That wasn’t exactly something that was easy to come by. 

“Whooo, damn little lady!” he said with a grin that told me he could get just about anything he wanted.  “Where in the fuck did you learn to move like that? Hell, got my dick standing at attention with moves like that!” 

I lifted a brow at him, “Well, ya know.  The whole possibility of being eaten alive can tend to spark a little fire under one’s ass.” 

He smirked and his eyes just sparkled with a joke that was way too easy. 

“Before you make some kinda raunchy comment about how they’re not the only ones who’d like to eat me alive- just save it.” I said with a roll of my eyes. “You ain’t the first one to say and I’m sure you won’t be the last. But for fuck’s sake- at least if you’re gonna hit on me- get some new material. We don’t have television anymore and I am so not in the mood for lame re-runs of weak ass pick up lines.” I said. 

Admittedly, my sass got away from me before I could get a hold on it. 

“Well, damn.” he grinned. “I do believe you have peaked my interest.   You care to join me for some fine dining tonight?” 

I just lifted a brow at him again. 

“While my stomach is telling me yes- I don’t necessarily trust you.  So I guess I’d say I’ll pass.  But I get the feeling that you’re not really asking so much as you’re informing me that I’ll be joining you.” I said. 

He smirked and let loose a ludicrous kinda moan. 

“Boys!” he cheered. “I like this one!” 

“Before you get any ideas about passing me around in some kinda gang bang orgy, you might as well just kill me- because I don’t play that shit and I will not be going easily.” I said. 

He shook his head, “Come on now, sugar mama.  That’s not how this works.  I’d never force a fine woman such as yourself to do such a thing.” 

I just stared him down. 

“Look, it it makes you feel any better, I’ll let you hold Lucille.” he said and offered the bat to me. 

I still didn’t trust him and it didn’t help that his companions held a look of shock upon their features when he offered the bat to me. 

I took it in my hands and swung it up to rest on my shoulder. 

“Be gentle with her now.” he winked at me. “She likes to be touched with care.” 

“For the record.” I stated. “I’m not afraid to beat you to death with your own bat that you just foolishly gave me.  My old man was a piece of shit but he was the best hitter in all of Tennessee.  In more ways than one.” 

The man held his hands up, “I will be nothing but a gentlemen and the boys will agree. Right boys?” 

There was a collective murmur amongst them in a bid to settle me. 

In reality, I didn’t matter whether I was settled or not.  

This man aimed to have me go back with them and I’d either go with them willingly or go down swinging. 

We moved along in silence for a while before he spoke again. 

Damn him with his relaxed self and long lanky legs. 

“So, how did you learn to move like that if you don’t mind me asking, sugar?” he asked. 

“I did gymnastics for a big part of my life.” I said. “All of my childhood and through my high school years.  I haven’t done it seriously in a long time but I guess muscle memory just kinda stays in the bones.” 

His brows rose on his forehead, “Damn.  That’s impressive.” 

“Thanks, I guess.” I said, adjusting the bat from one shoulder to the other. “I do best in crazy situations.  My coach was a hardass.  He was kind of a dick a lot of the time in more ways than one and was more like a drill sergeant than anything. But he was still a good coach.  I don’t think I would’ve gotten as far as I did without his coaching.  Both in gymnastics and to be honest- out here.” 

The man chuckled and I looked over at him. 

“What’s your deal?” I asked, furrowing my brows at him.

I knew I shared too much with this egotistical mother fucker. 

“Nothing. It’s just- I used to be a coach before all the shit hit the fan.  And by the sounds of it- your old coach and I probably have a lot in common.” he said. “So from a dickhead hardass of a coach, it’s not the coach that got you this far.  It’s you.  I was hard on my team too.  The weak ones broke and quit.  That was what was best.  But the strong ones kept going- damn near challenged me on everything and refused to back down.  You didn’t survive because of the coach.  You survived because you don’t back down.”  he said. 

The silence hung between us for a moment. 

“That’s awfully deep for someone I met less than half an hour ago.” I commented. 

“Why the fuck does it not surprise me that you wouldn’t just fucking say thank you?” he laughed. 

“Not really my style, I guess.” I shrugged. “So Lucille?  Like Lucille Ball?” 

He gave somewhat of a sad smile that was a bit uncharacteristic for him and shrugged, “My late wife.” 

I just nodded, “I can respect that.  Anyone who honors their late wife by having her as a blood stained baseball wrapped in barbed wire...eh, you kinda sound like my version of crazy.” 

He came to a halt, “Darling, you are so fucking weird.  I think I might just have to keep you.” 

“It’ll cost ya.” I said swinging the bat around.  

“Oh?” he said, curiosity peaked. “And what is your price, sugar tits?” 

“Well, for started, I’ll be climbing your big ass like a tree.” I said and that seemed to perk him right up. 

“Fuck yeah!” he said. 

“Second, I’m gonna take you up on that fine dining.” I said. “Maybe we’ll start with that.  Ya know, I’ll need to carb load to prepare myself for what I’ll do to you.” 

He fell to his knees in front of me dramatically. 

“My name is Negan, you evil goddess and I am at your service.” he said. 

I wasn’t the only one to laugh at his antics but I patted him on the head and smiled anyway. 

“Nice to meet you, Negan.  You may address me as Mistress from now on because I’m about to have you wound around my finger so tightly you won’t wanna know anything else.” I cooed and strutted on by. 

“Sweet fucking mother of god.” he whispered. “I think I’m in love.” 

Love, Mama Kennysaurus If you wanna see more of my content just check out my blogs! @littlemessyjessi is the main blog full of fandom fictions, imagines, headcanons and sickeningly sweet fluff! Yeah, I know, lol. Barf.  But hey, I like it. @witchyweirdness is the magical blog full of witchy content And last but not least !   @monsterbaesbymamakennysaurus is my monster blog full of all kinds of monster related content! So I hope to see you there! Love, Kenny

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Love, Kenny

[virginsexgod69]

Masterlist ☆

TWD

★ Daryl Dixon

♱ 18+ Laundry Day - Daryl Dixon x f!Reader smut

summary A laundry mishap leads to dreams coming true

♱ 18+ Oasis - Daryl Dixon x f!Reader smut (requested)

summary Daryl makes you squirt for the first time

♱ 18+ V-Card - Daryl Dixon x virgin!fem!Reader smut (requested)

summary After relentlessly teasing him, Daryl finally takes your virginity

♱ 18+ Inked - Daryl Dixon x F!Reader smut (requested)

summary you and Daryl give each other matching tattoos after finding an abandoned tattoo shop

Dance with Me - Daryl Dixon x F! Reader

summary Daryl makes up for everything he wasn't able to do for you on prom night

Marry Me - Daryl Dixon x F! Reader (requested)

summary After tracking and killing a deer on your own for the first time, Daryl proposes to you.

★ Rick Grimes

♱ 18+ Here for You - Rick Grimes x f!Reader smut + angst

summary After Lori's death, you're there to comfort Rick in any way he needs. Set in season 3 in the prison after Lori's death

1.5k words

♱ 18+ Special - Rick Grimes x Reader smut (requested)

summary You give Rick a very special day.

1.3k words

♱ 18+ Sweetheart - Rick Grimes x f!Reader (requested)

summary 2 months after Lori's death, you and Rick start hooking up, but that comes to a stop when he calls you the wrong name. He does everything he can to be yours again.

4.7k words

★ Rick Grimes and Shane Walsh

♱ 18+ Bribery - Shane Walsh and Rick Grimes x f!Reader smut

summary Rick and Shane catch you stealing and you do what it takes to convince them not to arrest you.

2.8k words

★ Shane Walsh

♱ Taking Care - Shane Walsh x f!Reader (requested)

summary Instead of robbing you, Shane decides to bring you back to the prison to take care of Judith but you end up taking care of him too.

2.5k words

★ Negan

♱ 18+ Video Star - Negan x f!Reader

summary You and Negan make a sex tape

1.5k words

★ Series

♱ 18+ Yes, Professor Grimes -A college/ university AU featuring Professors Grimes and Dixon and Coach Negan

♱ 18+ Seclusion - Daryl Dixon x f!Reader series eventual smut + eventual romance + fluff + angst + hurt/comfort

summary Alone in the forest and separated from his group, Daryl comes across your cabin. To make up for accidentally shooting him, you take him in and patch him up. He sticks around to help you out after a storm does massive damage to your cabin.

TL;DR Just you and Daryl in a secluded cabin in the middle of nowhere. 

★★★

CM

♱ 18+ You're Under Arrest - Spencer Reid x f!Reader smut

1.4k words

summary Derek hires a stripper for Spencer's birthday party as a joke, but Spencer surprisingly ends up enjoying it.

Interested in joining the taglist? Fill out this form!

💬 Requests are open!!

!! If you want to make a request for twd, I JUST STARTED SEASON 9 WOOOO!!! however, I can't write for anything past that :,(

[marsrblg]

twd fic recs <3

multiple characters

reader coming out [platonic daryl dixon, rick grimes, negan smith, maggie rhee, glenn rhee, tara chambler, carl grimes, aaron] (gn reader)

rick grimes

"we should get married" (male reader)

traveling with rick (male reader)

beard scratches (male reader)

carl grimes

dating carl hcs (gn reader)

fluff alphabet (male reader)

carl protecting reader during the alexandria bombing (gn reader)

cuddling with carl (gn reader)

summer date with carl (gn reader)

carl being whipped hcs (male reader)

rick interrupting a make-out session (male reader)

falling asleep with carl (gn reader)

rick's pov of carl's relationship (gn reader)

reader helping when carl gets lost (male reader)

carl confesses (male reader)

saving carl from being bitten (male reader)

listening to robert smith with carl (gn reader)

dating carl hcs [02 cw homophobia] (male reader)

comforting carl after a nightmare (gn reader)

changing carl's bandage (gn reader)

carl comforting reader after a nightmare (gn reader)

cuddling with carl (gn reader)

daryl dixon

confronting daryl about being embarassed to show affection in public [cw child abuse implication] (male reader)

he confesses after getting hurt (male reader)

[non apocalypse au] seeing daryl for the first time after years [cw child abuse implication] (male reader)

nightmare comfort [tw abuse] (gn reader)

single dad reader x daryl (male reader)

reader has tattoos (gn reader)

daryl confesses after a near death experience (gn reader)

daryl drabble (gn reader)

daryl confesses after a near death experience [02] (gn reader)

comfort after reader gets hurt (gn reader)

daryl drabble [02] (gn reader)

daryl protecting reader from spencer (gn reader)

slow dancing with daryl (male reader)

glenn rhee

reader has trouble sleeping (male reader)

glenn proposes (gn reader)

[starlessea]

The Walking Dead - Daryl Dixon

Hello, my amazing readers! 

First, I want to thank you so much for all of your support. Your comments and feedback really mean the world to me. I’ve made so many friends on this platform, and I utterly adore getting to talk with you all.

I post less frequently now because I have a job, but I'll always come back x

(you can also find my work on Wattpad and Ao3 under @pandorahurts)

♡ = favourites

Each section is ordered by oldest to newest

Art Masterlist

General TWD Masterlist

[COMPLETE] Here Comes the Sun (S2-S4)  

Daryl Dixon scares the hell out of you climbing out of that damn creek. It takes hauling his ass halfway across Georgia and taking a bullet for him to realise that you're not half bad. He slowly starts to come around, despite grumbling about how much he doesn't like your singing, or that you can't use a gun for shit - and don't get him started on that ugly yellow tent of yours. It takes him a while before he starts to see for himself that he's found a best friend for life, and that he doesn't actually mind the colour yellow that much, after all.

Step on the Gas (Pre-S1 onwards) ♡

A dishonourable discharge from the military results in you being hauled off to live with your grandparents in the boonies, otherwise known as the middle of nowhere Georgia. After running over a nail on the road, and pushing your grandpa's vintage Camaro to the nearest auto-shop, you meet Daryl Dixon - the local mechanic. At some point, the world ends, but that stubborn man never gives you a chance to slow down. His smile gives you whiplash, but he still insists that you to step on the gas.

Hush Hush (S4, 3 Parts)

You’d always been told that eavesdropping was a bad thing. But in this case, it led to you finding one of the only few good things left in the world.

Foxtails and Rabbit Trails (with @whitexwingedxdoves​​) ♡

Daryl Dixon was a good hunter, but there were still some things that he struggled to find. Such as the patience to deal with you.

You wore a rabbit’s foot keyring, but Daryl thought you were the furthest thing from lucky. After all, you ended up stuck with him, too.

Snow Angels (Between S2 - S3)

Daryl Dixon doesn’t like snow, but you somehow convince him to make snow angels with you.

Puppy Love (Loosely S10)

Bathtime leaves you to deal with a wet Dog and wet Daryl.

Sea Witch (S4) 

You sing just like a siren, and it makes Daryl realise why some sailors chose to drown.

Poker Face (S5) 

You let Spencer teach you to shoot despite already knowing how; and it drives Daryl positively mad as a result.

Sketchbook Confessions (S4)  ♡

You flick through Daryl’s sketchbook, only to discover he’d filled the pages up with you.

Eye For Detail [Sequel to Sketchbook Confessions]  

You try to sketch Daryl in return. Except, you draw his smile a little crooked, and the eyes are wonky... And Daryl completely loves it.

Prom Night (Pre-Apocalypse)  

It was the night of your highschool prom. Except, Daryl had been kicked out a few months back and you didn’t have a date, either.

Hayloft (Pre-Apocalypse) ♡

You see a red-brick barn which reminds you of the days you'd spending smoking in a hayloft with Daryl Dixon.

Last Man Standing  (repost) 

Daryl is haunted by memories of you. But they’re the good kind - so he lets them stick around.

Look Straight Ahead ♡

You are the only person Daryl Dixon will ever let cut his hair.

Peek-A-Boo ♡

The story of Aunt and Uncle Dixon told through the eyes of Judith Grimes.

Inkstains

You spend the night trapped in a tattoo shop with Daryl, and he emerges the next morning with some new ink.

Big Brother ♡

The story of how Daryl Dixon won your heart, from the begrudging perspective of his brother, Merle.

Wildest Dreams

Daryl can’t help but toss and turn under the stars one night, remembering someone from his past who he should have long since forgotten.

Sunflower Fields

In an otherwise dying world, you and Daryl stumble across something living and beautiful.

[NEW] Renegade

A brief history of Daryl Dixon’s run-ins with the law (and how you always bailed him out).

[NEW] Crossfire

Rick Grimes recalls the day his brother almost lost you (since Daryl still couldn’t bring himself to).

Two Sugars 

You pester Daryl about what he did before the apocolypse, but are soon reminded that it doesn’t matter.

Dot-to-dot 

You like to trace patterns, and Daryl Dixon is your canvas.

After Hours 

Daryl stuffs you into a broom closet and you start to wonder if you’re reliving your highschool days.

I’m Daryl 

Captured alongside Daryl by The Saviors, you are used to try and coax the man into submission.

I Ain’t Nobody’s Bitch [Sequel to I’m Daryl] 

You and Daryl escape The Santuary; but mentally, you’re still there.

Sunbeam  ♡

Daryl proposes to you. At least, you think he did.

Magnets  

Daryl Dixon had a crush on you. You could tell.

Love Blindness [Spin-off to Magnets] 

You had a crush on Daryl Dixon. Everyone else could tell.

Hourglass 

You aren’t sure whether you’re the same person you were before Woodberry; Daryl tells you that you’re not.

After The Storm 

Sunshine always follows the rain, just like how you’ll always follow Daryl.

I See Red

You’ll threaten anyone who dares mess with your little brother; and Daryl is left to pick up the pieces when you feel guilty for doing so.

Sleepless Nights  ♡

They say that your firstborn opens your eyes to the world; but Daryl looked at her like she was the world. 

Wear My Heart On Your Sleeve

Daryl doesn’t quite fit in at Alexandria yet - but he still tries.

Caught Red Handed

Even during the apocolypse, you and Daryl experience little moments of domesticity.

Heartbreak Hotel

Daryl had already rejected you once - back when he’d been a little more baby-faced, and a lot less patient.

No Vacancy [Sequel to Heartbreak Hotel]

Rejected once, shame on you. Rejected twice, shame on him - and Daryl Dixon was no fool.

Doctor’s Orders 

Daryl isn’t too impressed when he finds you with a sling on your arm and a smile on your face.

Hey, Good Lookin’

You could count the number of showers Daryl had taken in the last few weeks on one hand. But somehow, he still looked just as good.

Crayon Family  ♡

Daryl loses your daughter, but you end up finding more than you’d bargained for.

Check My Jacket

Even as he’s held prisoner at The Sanctuary, Daryl can’t help but let his thoughts drift back to you.

Welcome Home [Sequel to Check My Jacket]

You and Daryl reunite after he escapes from The Sanctuary, and he finally reveals what he’s been hiding in his jacket pocket.

Barricade

Daryl Dixon makes sure that nobody gets left behind - especially not you.

Two Left Feet

You give Daryl Dixon dancing lessons.

Cross My Heart

Daryl begrudgingly allows you to tie his hair up to help him cope with the Georgia heat.

“Don’t Cry”  ♡

Daryl hates seeing your tears. He’d much rather see you smiling, instead.

Can I Hold Your Hand?

Rather than seeking comfort from God, you turn to one of his angels instead - a man named Daryl Dixon.

Touching Foreheads

Pinky Swear

Bandages

Asleep on his Shoulder

Spooning at Night

Showering Together

Keeping Quiet

Touch Starved

Shotgun Wedding

I’ll Wait

Take Mine

Happy Birthday

Can I Kiss You?

Four Doors Down

You’re Important

Permission

[NEW] Are You Cold?

[NEW] Bonfire

[ficnation]

Scars and Tattoos - Daryl x Reader

Request: “How would Daryl react once he finds out that reader has tattoos? maybe like some back tattoos like he does? :'D”

requested by anonymous

Word count: 851

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Gender Neutral! Reader

Warnings: usual twd themes, cursing (probably), lots of fluff, insecurities, reader loses a shirt but there’s nothing sexual about it, reader has scars and tattoos on their back

A/n: Can’t believe that all it took to finish writing this was a glass of Georgian wine. Bless the anon who requested this 🙏 We deserve love, Daryl deserves love; we’re all winners here. There’s nothing specified about RC’s tattoos and scars, imagine them however you like!

☁ 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☁ || ☁ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐗𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ☁

The archer’s fingers traced your back like an imaginary constellation, following the protruding scars marking your skin. His cold hands made goosebumps wash over your whole body. Daryl noticed it and stopped his movements, taking a look at your facial expression to make sure his actions didn’t make you uncomfortable in any way. 

“I’m good, Daryl. Don’t worry about it,” you said before he even got the chance to ask. 

It felt heavenly to finally have a moment of peace to spend with the love of your life. You wanted to take every opportunity you had to be alone with him, to talk about everything or sit in comfortable silence and just enjoy each other’s company. In this world, there was no guarantee that one of you won’t die soon, so you wanted to make every moment with Daryl count. 

“Yer tense,” he murmured, his voice low and still a little hoarse from sleep. 

“I’m not tense,” you protested, breaking into quiet giggles when Daryl’s fingers slipped to your sides, tickling you. 

You were so busy trying to steady your breath that you barely registered his next movement. Your heart almost stopped beating when his hands grabbed the hem of your shirt, yanking it up over your head. It was the first time you lost your shirt in front of Daryl, but he didn’t let you dwell on it for a long time.

Another giggle escaped you at the feeling of his lips and stubble brushing over your collar bones. His name left your mouth in a breathy whine, and you pulled him closer, seeking the warmth of his body.

Closeness was something new to both of you, and you had to admit his touch made you a little bit nervous. By no means was it sexual. You could find a hundred words that could describe it better; affectionate, intimate, loving, tender. 

You got lost in your thoughts and the pleasant silence that enveloped the cell. Daryl’s hands caressed your skin softly, trailing down from your shoulder to your ribs and stomach, then back up. He propped himself on his elbow, looking right into your eyes, and surprisingly he didn’t shy away like many times before.

The archer left a kiss on your forehead, straining his mind for words to confess how much he loved you, but nothing came to him. His feelings were beyond simple words and anything Shakespear could ever come up with. In this fucked up world, it was a miracle that he found someone he can trust and adore. He wanted, no, he needed to cherish you, to show you how much you meant to him.

“Can I see ’em?” he mumbled out in a sudden rush of confidence, immediately regretting the words that left his mouth, but he didn’t shy away like many times before. There was an unexplained determination set on his face.

You looked him right in the eyes and smiled reassuringly. “The scars?” you asked to make sure, even if you were certain it was exactly what he meant.

Daryl nodded his head before he leaned forward to embrace your lips in a sweet, longing kiss. He tried to pull away, but your hand moved on its own to grasp the back of his neck and hold him in place, not ready to let him go just yet. You needed a minute to ready your mind for what was coming next. When you moved away a few seconds later, resting your forehead against his, you were both left breathless. 

“You really wanna see them?”

“Yeah, ‘course I do. They’re a part of ya.”

“They’re disgusting,” you mumbled out, biting your lip to stop yourself from shedding any tears. They rushed to your eyes, making your vision glassy.

“Sit,” Daryl instructed, heart almost breaking at the sight of the sadness on your face. He helped you sit up on the bed before his hands found your shoulders, gently turning you in the other direction when he didn’t meet any resistance.

“Ya didn’t tell me ya had tattoos,” he noted, staring at your skin mesmerized. 

The scars looked exactly how he imagined them; they looked like a constellation or a spider web shining with lost beads of morning dew. Half of them were covered by ink that hid them behind beautiful designs worth Picasso’s approval. Daryl was left speechless. He could look at them for hours without a single break.

“I hate when people stare,” you explained in a whisper that was meant for him and only him because this man’s stares didn’t make you feel uncomfortable in any way. His gaze made you feel loved and confident.

“They stare ’cause they’re beautiful. Yer beautiful.” Daryl leaned down, tracing the scars with his lips, his breath fawning over them and making shivers run down your spine.

“I think I love you, Daryl Dixon.” You giggled quietly, making him smile like a goofball. Your laugh was music to his ears.

His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you against his chest. The archer kissed the sweet spot behind your ear before whispering, “I love you more.”

Daryl Dixon Taglist: @datidixon @depressedfrog2 @kpopandharry @daryldixonstorm @yttricuz   @wonderful-writer @huffledor-able541 @humanmistakes @sexyseabass @crimson-candle

Send me an ask if you want to be added to any taglists!

[silver-tongued-bby]

Masterlist

ALL CONTENT IS 18+!!!

Loki Short Fics and One Shots:

Keeper - Dom!Mob!Loki x fem!Reader - Loki owns you in every sense of the word and you’d be the first to admit it.

Time Away ~ A Keeper Tale - Softdom!Mob!Loki x fem!Reader - Vacationing with Loki wasn't exactly as relaxing as you'd hoped.

Discretion - Dom!CEO!Loki x fem!Reader - After dropping out of grad school and moving back home you expected very little of your summer. That is until you realise your neighbour, Mr. Laufeyson, has other plans. Set in the mid 90s!

On the Trail - Dark!President!Loki x fem!Reader - You’re the only reporter left on the campaign trail who’s willing to factcheck Loki’s lies. Unfortunately, he’s taken a keen interest in you. Set in an AU of the Vote Loki comics with Loki from the Loki 2021 TV Series.

Devotion - Dark!Loki x Nun!Reader - You chose to devout yourself to God. But did you choose the right one? Part II here.

The Darkest Timeline - Dark!Loki x Sub!fem!Reader - After succeeding He Who Remains as the ruler of the timeline, Loki can’t help but indulge. Loki (2021) spoilers ahead!

A Little Bit - Soft!Loki x fem!Reader - Loki's been after you to join his advertising firm for years. What'll happen once you finally accept his offer? AU set in the 60's in New York.

Bloodbound - Dark!Loki x fem!Reader - You’re trying your very best to sell a deserted house. But what’s in the basement?

Constriction - Shapeshifting!Snake!Loki x fem!Reader - Snakes! Why did it have to be snakes?

Awakenings - Darkish!Dream!Loki x fem!Reader - The line between dreams and reality blurs.

Only His - Jotunn!Loki x fem!Reader - Loki pays you a visit.

Trouble - Tattoo Artist!Loki x fem!Reader - After a stroke of luck, you manage land an appointment with the legendary tattoo artist, Loki Laufeyson. Part II here.

La Petite Mort - Death!Loki x fem!Reader - Death has turned his eyes on you.

On His Knees - Sub!Loki x gn!Reader - How to bring a prince to his knees in five days or less.

A Lesser Evil - Dark!Loki x fem!Reader // Dark!Negan x fem!Reader - Negan’s always kept a tight hold on you as his wife. Given the chance, would you sever the hand that feeds?

~~~

Loki Series:

You're Mine - Dom!Loki x Sub!fem!Reader - You’re the CEO of a groundbreaking drug company in Sweden with a work/life balance that’s more work than anything else. That is before you meet Loki, who turns your world on its head in the best of ways. I'm taking requests for this fic!

Summer Wine - Loki x OFC // Lady Loki x OFC - Loki crash lands on an alien planet after escaping the TVA. There he meets Kai, a beautiful woman with a mysterious past. Set after the first episode of the Loki 2021 TV series.

The Gardener - Soft!Dark!Loki x fem!Reader - Loki has run from himself his entire life. Settling in post-Second World War America, he finds peace in his garden, and finds the closest thing to a friend that he’s had since the war. But how long can any of it last?

~~~

Non-Loki Content:

Drive By - Negan x fem!Reader - After a very bad day your car breaks down. Luckily help isn't too far away. Set in an AU of TWD.

Upload - Sub!Johnny Silverhand x fem!Reader - What does it take to upload a soul?

Sunday Service - Priest!Sir Thomas Sharpe x fem!Reader - You've caught the eye of the new priest in town. But are his intentions as pure as they seem? Note: this is a choose your own ending fic.

Last Updated: February 25th, 2022

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 3,324 Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, typical TWD stuff A/N: This is Part 6 of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: Daryl worries about Y/N after the traumatic incident outside the wall.

Your name: submit What is this?

Daryl didn’t see you that whole day after he had talked with Rick, or the next morning so he decided to pay you a visit and make sure you were okay. He wiped his hands on the rag he always kept in his back pocket and put away the tools he had been using to work on his bike. Just as he was getting ready to leave, Aaron stepped out into the garage and Daryl greeted him with a nod.

“Done for the day?”

Daryl shrugged. “For now at least.” He thoughtfully chewed his bottom lip for a moment. “Hey, uhh, ya seen Y/N since that night we got back?”

Aaron’s face fell a bit but he nodded. “I stopped by her place yesterday.”

Daryl leaned back against the table, crossing his arms over his chest. “How’d she seem?”

Aaron shrugged and sighed heavily. “She seemed… okay. I don’t think she’s been sleeping,” he said a little hesitantly. He shook his head, frowning. “The bruising on her neck… it’s bad. Thank God you were there.”

Daryl’s stomach flipped at the thought. “Ya… Well, the whole thing was bad. Those people? Seemed like—” he hesitated to say what was on his mind, to confide in Aaron, but he also felt like it was eating him alive. Maybe if he spoke it, he would feel less consumed by it. “It seemed like they knew her.”

Aaron’s brow drew down low over his eyes. “Hmm. What do you mean?”

“I heard ‘em say she was comin’ ‘back where she belongs.’ And more than that—if they had wanted to kill her, she’d be dead. They both had guns and knives on ‘em. But they didn’t. They were tryin’ ta take her.”

The shadow on Aaron’s face deepened and he rubbed a hand thoughtfully over his chin and mouth. “Well, I don’t think I need to tell you that the intentions of some men out there in this world are even more emboldened now,” he said with disgust.

“Yeah… But ain’t the first time neither. That night I stitched up that gash in her arm she said the same thing. She said ‘if they had wanted to kill me, I’d be dead.’”

Aaron gulped and shook his head. “I don’t know what—I just—I don’t know,” he said vaguely. “She hasn’t told me much about before.”

Daryl turned back to the table and fiddled with some of the parts. “Seems like she’s got a target painted on her. Maybe she shouldn’t be out,” he thought aloud.

Aaron shook his head. “Yeah, well that will never happen. Trying to keep her inside Alexandria is like trying to hold water in your hands. We’d probably have to lock her up.” He sighed heavily again and rested his hands on his hips. “Whatever is out there, whatever her past is… she knows the risks of going out. There isn’t going to be any convincing her to stay inside.”

Daryl nodded and chewed the side of his thumbnail. “Ya…”

Aaron let out a wry laugh. “I mean, can you imagine if someone told you that you needed to stay inside?”

One corner of Daryl’s mouth twitched upwards. “Ya. I know. Ain’t happenin’.” Daryl sighed. “Well, I guess the only thing for it is to try to convince her not to go alone.”

Aaron smiled at the archer. “Sounds reasonable. Know anyone for the job?” he joked. Daryl shot him a look and Aaron laughed and held his hands up. “See you later, Daryl.”

Daryl hummed an acknowledgement, set down the part he’d been anxiously fiddling with, and headed out of the garage in the direction of your house.

He felt a bit nervous as he climbed the stairs on your front porch, noticing how clammy his palms suddenly felt, and when first he knocked there was a long silence. He wondered if you were going to answer the door at all and a distinct worry seized him—that you really weren’t okay. But, finally, he could hear some soft footsteps approaching the other side of the door and then it opened a crack.

You peeked out hesitantly but as soon as you saw it was Daryl you opened the door wide. “Daryl. Hi.”

He cleared his throat a little awkwardly. “Hey.”

Aaron was right. You looked exhausted. There were dark circles under your eyes and your shoulders were somewhat slumped.

You continued to peer at him, waiting for some explanation for why he was standing there at your door.

“I, uhh—I hadn’t seen ya since we got back. Just wanted to see if ya needed anything. Ya know, and see how you’re healin’ up.”

“Oh. That’s—you want to come in?” you offered stepping back to make way for his broad-shouldered frame.

“Thanks,” Daryl murmured as he crossed the threshold. You shut the door behind him and he followed you up the hall and into the kitchen. He could see a pillow and blanket laid out on the couch in the living room. It looked like you’d been camping out there. He gave you a questioning glance. “So, how ya feelin’?” Daryl’s eyes found the dark bruising around your neck.

“I’m fine. Thanks,” you said a little quietly.

He considered you thoughtfully for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Ya sure?”

You sighed heavily and pressed a hand to your forehead. “Yeah. I just—haven’t slept really,” you admitted.

Daryl nodded, looking again at the makeshift bed in your living room. “Ya camping out down here?”

You followed him as he trailed over to peer at the blankets spilling off the couch and onto the floor. “Uhh… sort of. I thought maybe a change of scenery would help.” And you had the thought that if you were on the ground floor, you’d hear someone trying to break into your house…

“Did it?” he asked, his blue eyes finding yours.

“Not really.”

The archer’s brow drew down, veiling his eyes in shadow, and he let out a hum of acknowledgement. “Ya know if having other people around would help, ya could—” he cleared his throat again, his heart racing, “ya could come stay over at our place. We’ve got a full house. Ya know, if—if it’d feel safer. Ya could take my bed. It’s in the basement away from everybody.” He watched your eyelashes flutter as you looked up at him in surprise.

“Oh. I can’t—that—that’s okay,” you said, averting your eyes back down toward your feet.

Daryl’s heart was pounding as he offered up his second idea, nervously rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Well, I—I could stay over here. Just to, ya know, keep an eye on things. If it’d help.” Your eyes lifted back up to his face again and there was that vulnerability in your eyes again that always surprised him. He watched as your lips parted slightly as you prepared to speak.

“I can’t—I can’t ask you to do that,” you said softly, quickly averting your eyes from the sudden softness in his and fiddling with the hem of your sleeve.

“Ya ain’t askin’. I offered,” he said. “If ya think it’d help ya get some sleep. You’re healin’ up. Ya need it.”

You glanced up at him again, now your expression was somewhat guarded as you took him in. You gulped at the nervous lump in your throat. “They aren’t gonna miss you over there?” you asked hesitantly.

“Nah,” he said.

You watched him for a long moment, considering his offer, but at length you nodded, remembering how well you had slept with him nearby even outside of Alexandria’s walls. Since you’d gotten back the nightmares had returned and gotten worse, likely a result of your latest encounter. “Okay. If—if you don’t mind.”

Daryl’s heart fluttered at the grateful look you gave him, your eyes fixed on him and only him. He nodded. “I dun mind.” He nudged his nose up at you twice in a nod. “I’ll come by later.” You watched as he stalked into the kitchen and went over to the refrigerator.

“What are you doing?” You watched him pull it open and look inside before glancing back over his shoulder at you.

He closed the door pointedly. “Just what I thought. Ain’t got no damn food in here either. Ya been eatin’?”

You gulped and shrugged vaguely.

“Ya, uh huh. I’ll bring somethin’ later. Ya need to eat,” he rumbled. He started to stride quickly to the front door and you trailed a little behind him. He stopped on the threshold and looked back at you. There was that softness in his eyes again that always made your heart jump. “I’ll be back later, alright?”

You avoided his eyes, feeling suddenly silly and ashamed of what you were asking him to do, that you needed someone else when you tried so hard not to need anyone or anything. His deep voice, rough with gravel called your eyes back to his.

“Hey. It ain’t no big deal. Alright?” he said, trying to reassure you, reading the shame on your face as clearly as if the word had been tattooed on your forehead.

You nodded a little, giving in to his reassurance. “Okay.”

“’Kay,” he agreed. You watched him cross the porch and go down your stairs, headed back home. That’s what he had. A home. It hit you that all you really had was an empty house and your heart ached. It was the price you paid for trying to keep almost everyone at arm’s length. You sighed heavily and shut the door.

Several hours later, there was another knock on the front door. You got up from your spot on the couch, still carrying your book and went to the door. Daryl was standing there with his crossbow slung over his shoulder and a small container in his hands. Night had fallen outside and the porchlights illuminated the strong angles of his jaw. You felt a flush in your cheeks and hoped he couldn’t see it.

You stepped back and gestured for him to come in.

“Brought ya some stew. Venison. We’ve still got a bunch of it,” he said, heading immediately for the kitchen and starting to open cabinets, looking for a pot to dump it in so he could heat it up. “And you’re eatin’ some of this now.” He paused and looked up at you over the counter. “When is the last time ya ate?”

“Uhh…”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes at you. “Too damn long, then.” He resumed his searching and eventually succeeded. He set it on the stove to heat up. You sank down onto one of the kitchen stools at the island, watching him as he stirred the hearty meal. Daryl turned around and took in your expression from across the kitchen, slinging his crossbow off his shoulder and letting it hang at his side.

“Whatcha readin’?” he asked.

Your eyes shot up at the sound of his voice. “Oh, uhh… it’s just this classic novel. The Brothers Karamazov.”

Daryl’s eyes narrowed as he looked at you. “The what?”

You actually smiled at him, your whole face lighting up. Daryl felt his heart flutter and he was relieved to see that some of the weight that seemed to be on you was lifted, even if just for a moment. “Yeah, it’s a mouthful,” you said. “I’ve got this thing for the great Russian writers so…”

“Russian, huh? What’s so special about ‘em?”

“They just—I don’t know. They write these beautiful, insane, touching, tragic stories. I just—” you shrugged. “The writing is incredible, even in translation.” You paused thoughtfully and Daryl felt a warmth in his chest as you looked down at the novel in your hand and smoothed your hand over the cover, staring at it like it was something precious. “And I suppose now, since the world changed, the tragedy in the stories is even more relatable,” you said softly.

Daryl felt a pang in his heart at your words. Your eyes flitted back up to meet his and he felt a spark of electricity jump up his spine.

Daryl rubbed a hand across the back of his neck and hoisted his crossbow up onto the counter, using it as an excuse to break eye contact with you as he felt suddenly terrified of the magnetic pull he was feeling.

“What’d you tell everybody?” you asked quietly.

Daryl didn’t look up from the bolt he was examining closely. “Didn’t tell ‘em nothin’.”

“Won’t they worry about where you are?”

He shrugged. “Nah. S’fine.” He quickly turned back to the stew on the stove which now had curls of steam rising from the surface of it. He pulled open some more cabinets until he found a bowl and quickly poured stew from the pan into it before setting it in front of you. He opened drawers until he found a spoon, which he slid over to you with a metallic clinking against the granite of the countertop. You were giving him a queer look. “What?”

You shook your head, one corner of your mouth twitching up. “Nothing.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, his eyes narrowed. “Eat,” he drawled.

The corners of your eyes crinkled in a smile. “You’re awfully bossy today,” you joked, picking up the spoon. You stared down into the stew, not feeling the least bit hungry despite not eating anything all day.

He let out a scoff and leaned on his forearms on the counter, his curtain of brown hair falling forward around his face. “I’m bossy when someone needs bossin’,” he quipped.

You took a bite of the stew, holding the spoon a bit awkwardly with the brace on your wrist, and chewed it slowly. Daryl watched you carefully. The smile on your face had disappeared again and he couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting to the bruises on your neck. He felt a renewed flush of hot anger every time. He sighed and straightened up, picking up his crossbow and slinging it over his shoulder in a well-practiced habit.

“How’re your ribs feelin’?” he drawled.

You dipped your spoon back into the bowl of stew and shrugged. “Fine. Really, I’m fine.”

Daryl nodded, but you could tell he was a little skeptical. He moved around the counter and into the living room, sinking into a chair and kicking his feet up to rest on the coffee table. You dutifully sat and ate your stew until it was gone before going to join him with your book. You pushed the blankets on the couch out of the way and allowed yourself to watch the nimble workings of his strong fingers as he fiddled with his bow and the narrowing of his blue eyes in concentration. Your heart increased its pace. Finally, you broke the silence again. “Thanks for doing this,” you said. You hadn’t meant for it to come out in a whisper but it had, the tightness in your throat from shame and nerves strangling your voice a little.

The workings of Daryl’s fingers ceased for a moment and he looked like he was frozen, turned to stone. “I dun mind,” he finally said. His blue eyes lifted and met yours and briefly he thought he saw some glistening light there, but in a moment he had blinked and it was gone. You were simply pulling the blanket over your lap and running your fingers along the spine of your book. Daryl pulled out a sharpening stone and went about carefully sharpening some of his bolts. You settled back against the couch and opened your book, curled up beneath the blanket. It was strange how usual, how comfortable this felt. Each passing moment of silence, each murmur to one another, each question and response all felt so easy, and that was something Daryl kept turning over and over in his mind. He wasn’t used to that. He wasn’t used to feeling so at home around another person and it was becoming a habit with you. The thought made him bounce his knee nervously.

Daryl wasn’t sure when, but at some point as he sat across from you sharpening his bolts you had drifted off to sleep. Your book was still open but had dropped down onto your chest, your left hand resting on it. Your breathing was slow and deep and Daryl felt a wave of warmth and gladness wash over him that you were actually asleep. And he wondered at the fact that not only were your comfortable enough with him around to fall asleep, but he was what enabled you to when you otherwise couldn’t. Did you think of him as safety? God, he hoped so… He was puzzling over this, smoothing his thumb across his lower lip as he took in your soft expression and the way your hair was falling around your face.

He felt his heart speed up as his eyes traced the gentle pout of your mouth and the slope of your nose in profile. He rubbed a hand at the warm and achy feeling in his chest that was becoming common, annoyed at how his mind was running away on him...

The archer stood and silently crossed the room to you. He grasped one corner of your open book and slipped it gently from your hands, setting it on the coffee table. He pulled the blanket up over you before retreating back to his chair and his bow.

You awoke as the sun was coming up, lighting the living room slowly, drenching everything in warm light. You blinked a few times, getting your bearings, and then gingerly pulled yourself up into a sitting position. Your eyes landed on the archer, asleep in his chair with his head cocked to one side, his bow leaning up against the armrest next to him. He must have heard you stirring because he was awake the next instant, taking in a deep breath and straightening. His eyes meeting yours. “Hey.” The gravel in his voice was thick, heavy with sleep still.

“Hey,” you replied. Daryl was relieved to see how much brighter your eyes looked. The dark circles beneath them were also diminished.

“I didn’t—I slept,” you said with gentle surprise.

He nodded. “Ya. Ya were exhausted. Ya fell asleep early. Ya needed it,” he said, grabbing his crossbow and pulling it onto his lap, his heart rushing at the sight of your somewhat tousled hair and the rosy glow in your cheeks.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

He nodded and stood, throwing his bow over his shoulder again. “S’nothin’. Glad ya got some sleep.”

You pulled yourself up, subconsciously wrapping an arm around your ribs as they panged with the movement. Daryl was already heading through the kitchen and toward the front door. He stopped and his blue eyes fixed on your face. “Ya know, I get ‘em too sometimes,” he said quietly.

You heart raced. Had he guessed why you weren’t sleeping so easily? “What?”

“Nightmares,” he said. “About the people we’ve lost. About losing more.”

You gulped at the tightness in your throat and nodded. “Yeah…”

“I’ll see ya later, Y/N,” he drawled. He pointed at you sharply. “Eat some more of that damn stew.”

You smiled at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling. “You got it.”