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holdmytesseract · 1 year

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You're My Destiny

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: Barely after he left his home, Daryl starts to question himself, if he made the right decision. Can he find his way back to you and finally bite the bullet?

Warnings: angst (sorry!), walkers, blood, injuries, uhh, swear words, fluff! I promise, it has a happy end this time! 🥺

Set in Season 11 - or well, rather after season 11!

Word Count: 4,2k (Whoops...)

a/n: This is a second part to 'Missed Chances', in order to make up for this sad ending. ☺️ There's a scene in this one, which the lot of you will find awfully familiar. Daryl kind of experiences something he already experienced before - in Season 2, to be precisely. I had the idea to kind of rewrite this scene, but changing it up. Anyways, you'll see what I mean. ☺️ I hope you guys like this second part! I do! 🥰

Divider by the wonderful @fictive-sl0th ! 💚

Tagging... @in-this-minute @thefemininemystiquee @hotgirlsshareaccounts @azanoni @lokisgoodgirl @goobysgoobers @fuseburner @fictive-sl0thh @alexreadz07 @sweetpeapod ...plus @hxad-ovxr-hxart @browneyes528 @starfirette @nuhogom @faithsreades because you seemed to enjoy the first part as well!

Masterlist

One day and one night. That was how long ago had Daryl left Alexandria and the Commonwealth behind him, in order to search for his brother and friend. One day and one night was he already separated from his friends, from his family - from you. He missed them. Without a doubt. He missed the kids, Carol, Connie - and everybody else. But he missed nobody as much as he missed you. It seemed like the more he distanced himself from home, the more he missed you. It started with a tiny crack in his heart, which had turned within those 24 hours into a gaping wound. Sure, he was out there to find and bring back Judith's and RJ's parents, but all he could think about was you. How sad you were when he left. How you cried. The hurt in your voice and eyes.

A big sigh left the archer's lips, as he sat at the small campfire he had made. He couldn't even consider finding sleep that night; so he stayed awake and now watched how the sun replaced the moon. What am I going to do now? Daryl asked himself, chewing absently on the inside of his lip. Moving on, hoping that the pain in his chest would dissipate and his brain would stop thinking about you all the time? Daryl stared into the dying flame of the fire, taking another deep breath and standing up. Yes. That was exactly what he was going to do. It's jus' homesickness, the archer told himself, brushing it off. He extinguished the fire, grabbed his things and sat on his bike; ready to move on. Although, Daryl didn't get far. He had been driving for a few hours now, trying to focus on his mission - but no matter how hard he tried, his mind was always taking him back to the woman he left behind in Alexandria. In fact, the archer was so in thoughts, that he didn't even see the single walker limping in some distance over the deserted, empty road he drove on. When Daryl realised, that he was about to crash into a hungry, growling monster, it was too late. "Shit!" He cursed, trying to dodge the walker in the last possible second - which worked out; but unfortunately, he lost the grip, went into a skid and fell. Daryl got thrown off the vehicle, landed harshly on the roadside. And with that not enough... He had been just passing by an old, very much destroyed farm - and with that a fence along the street, which had probably lined before the downfall a paddock. The fence was made of wooden stakes and barbwire - and Daryl hit the fence with full force. Human body against steel? It was pretty clear who won that duel. The barbwire ripped the shirt he wore and cut easily through his skin and flesh, leaving a gaping wound on his right side. A painful gasp left the archer's mouth, as he tried to reorientate himself and get up, but it was no use. The fall he had just taken wasn't a small one... Daryl tried to turn to examine his wound. It bled - a lot. And it was quite a deep cut, that much he could tell. His breath was laboured; the sun burning down on him. Suddenly, the world around him started to spin, before darkness overcame him.

Daryl's eyes fluttered slightly open, immediately blinded by the bright light shining down on him. "Hey!" A voice suddenly called out from somewhere above him. "Wake up!" Daryl shifted slightly, gritting his teeth at the pain, shooting through his side. "Brother, you need to wake up!" Listening to the familiar, yet far away voice, he forced his eyes to open again. After getting used to the brightness, he suddenly saw a familiar figure squatted down beside him, looking down in concern at him. Rick. "There ya go, brother." Daryl swallowed, blinking and feeling himself slipping in and out of consciousness. "What ya doin' here?" Rick chuckled, shaking his head. "Lookin' after your sorry ass, of course." Daryl just scoffed. "Listen to me, man. You gotta go back home. You're hurt, brother - badly. That cut needs to get stitched up. You can search for me on another day." The archer scoffed once again. "Pfft. Don need that. 'M fine. That never stopped me before. Been through much worse." Another chuckle left Rick's lips, "You're one hell of a stubborn idiot, ya know that?" as he was shaking his head. "It's not just because of that... You need to go back to Y/N; finally man up and tell 'er that you love 'er." Daryl shook his head. "Can't tell 'er." Rick literally snorted out a laugh at the archer's words, "Yes you can." and looked down on his best friend. "Drive back, get your woman and that wound fixed, then keep on searchin' - with her." The archer huffed out a breath. "Ya really think she wants me to be more than jus' a friend? That's ridiculous." "It's not. I know she does. That girl always had eyes just for you, did you never notice? Always makin' sure you're alright. Always lookin' out for you. That's way more than just friendship. If that ain't love, I dunno what it is." "Ya think?" Rick nodded. "I know it." Daryl could've sworn that Rick smiled at him, but his vision went awfully blurry again. "Trust me, brother." The words were quiet and far away, almost like an echo. It was the last thing Daryl heard, before he slipped back into unconsciousness.

They next time he woke up, it was due to a sound as well. Although, it wasn't Rick's voice. It wasn't any voice he knew at all, no... It was the familiar sound of snarling and growling; followed by snapping teeth. Walker. Abruptly, as if stung by an adder, Daryl shot up, ripping his eyes open. His survival instincts kicking in. He quickly - almost frantically reached for his knife, which was still tucked in its knife sheath, while the walker came closer and closer. When the undead, skinny man threw himself on top of Daryl, trying to get a bite out of his neck, he used every strength left in his weakened body to keep his snapping teeth at distance. Once he finally got his knife out of its sheath he drove the blade into the walker's skull, causing it to fall limp and lifelessly on top of Daryl, hitting his chest with a thud. The archer closed shortly his eyes, trying to get his heavy breathing under control.

Grunting, he shoved the dead body off of him, feeling suddenly taken back in time. He had been in such a situation before, years and years back, when he was searching for a little girl named Sophia... The accident, the wound, the unconsciousness, the hallucinations, the walker(s)... Only difference seemed to be that he didn't see Merle this time... He had seen Rick.

Rick. His brother's words echoed through his head again. You gotta go back home. You need to go back to Y/N; finally man up and tell 'er that you love 'er. Daryl swallowed. Love her... Did he really? An image of a smiling Y/N popped up in his head next, causing his stomach to flip. Yes... Probably it was true. That he, in fact, did love that woman. Rick was right - even though he had been just a hallucination. He had to go back. Taking a deep breath, he managed to get up, gritting his teeth as another wave of pain shot through his system. Once Daryl was back on his feet, he examined the deep cut on his side again. Hissing, he ripped off the sleeves of his already damaged shirt, tied them together and slung them tightly around his waist, in order to staunch the wound. After that was done, he more or less stumbled back to his bike, bringing up all the strength he got left to pick it up from the ground. Luckily, the damage was not as bad as he anticipated. The archer was way more affected by the accident than his beloved vehicle. He swung his leg over the motorcycle saddle, then tried to start the engine. It started up. Thank god it started up. Inhaling deeply, he started to drive down the deserted street, going as fast as he could. Sure, the archer knew that driving a bike with a deep cut and high blood loss wasn't a thing you should do, but what choice did he have? All he had to do, was drive fast and keep himself awake someway, somehow.

You stood on one of the guard towers, looking at the beautiful world to your feet. Beautiful, yet deadly. So many threats were lurking outside these walls... Not just walkers. Hopefully Daryl wouldn't run into a death trap on his journey. You'd never know if he... You shook your head. No. You couldn't think like that. He was going to come back to you - someday. Like the others said... Like he promised. If somebody could survive out there, it was him. He didn't choose this world.... This world had chosen him - that was how it seemed to be. The distant hum of an approaching engine ripped you out of your thoughts. Squinting your eyes, you tried to make out something between the trees of the forest, but you couldn't see anything. Why didn't I take my binoculars with me? Nevertheless, your senses were sharpened now, always ready to react. Could be a threat...

The closer the sounds got, the easier it was to identify the engine. It was a motorcycle, without a doubt. Frowning, you tried to think who was riding a bike besides... Your eyes widened. Daryl? Could... Could it really be? Once again you shook your head. No. It was impossible. It couldn't be Daryl. He just left. Not even two days ago... Why would he come back?

Well, you were proven wrong. The motorcycle got closer and closer, and when it was in your field of view, you recognised the archer immediately. Once again, your eyes widened. "Daryl..." You mumbled to yourself, literally couldn't believe what you saw. Maybe this was all just a trick? What if your brain was fooling you? It wasn't. You would recognise him anywhere. Your heart skipped a beat, stomach flipping 360 degrees, as you started to smile brightly. "Daryl!" You screamed from the top of your lungs, happily. But as fast as your smile spread on your lips, as fast vanished it again. Daryl didn't make it to the gate. About hundred feet before the steel doors, he stopped his bike, got off it - and immediately tipped over; his body hitting the hard ground, seemingly unconscious. Your heart fell, just like your facial expressions. "Oh gods..." As fast as your legs could carry you, you climbed down the ladder, before opening the big steel door. You could hear the blood rush into your ears, as you ran through the opened gate and straight to Daryl. Fear, you had never felt in your life before pumped through your veins; afraid of losing the man you loved.

"Daryl!" He didn't respond. "Daryl!" You tried again, but no answer. As soon as you reached him, you literally dropped to the ground beside him, placing both your palms on his shoulders. "Daryl!" His eyes were closed shut and his face was quite pale. "No, no, no..." Your eyes frantically scanned his body, searched for possible injuries. You quickly made a find. The sleeves he had apparently torn off his ragged shirt - as you noticed, were wound around his torso. They were literally drenched in dark crimson red on his right side, causing your eyes to widen once again. "Oh no, no, no..." Your shaky hands started to tie the shirtsleeves loose to examine the wound. It was a wide, deep cut, still slightly oozing with blood. The skin around it was unhealthily reddened and swollen. It didn't look good at all. "Shit," you cursed, feeling tears already well up in your eyes. Turning around for help, you saw another Alexandrian. Quickly taking your chance, you called out to him. "Hey!" His head snapped in your direction. "Get help! Get Tomi! Daryl's hurt! Go!" He immediately seemed to understand and ran off. Sure, you could've gotten a doctor yourself, but you didn't want to leave Daryl's side. It was too dangerous out here. If a walker was going to stroll by, Daryl would be easy prey.

Therefore, that your head was turned to the gate, you didn't notice the fluttering of Daryl's eyelids, until a weak, small voice called out your name. "Y/N?" Hearing his voice, you quickly turned around again, eyes landing on his face. "Daryl!" You placed both your hands back on his shoulders. "Why are you back?! What happened?!" He didn't answer you. He had an idle glance, not even looking at you. Only now did you see the sweat, which had gathered on his forehead and cheeks. You swallowed hard. He had a very bad infection. "Y/N." Your name leaving his lips brought you back to reality. "Daryl... I-I'm here. I'm here..." You tried to reassure him immediately. "He told me to go back to ya..." Daryl breathed out suddenly, breathing heavily. You frowned. "Who told you that?" "He told me to tell ya..." Daryl was talking in riddles. "Tell me what, Daryl? Who is he?" "I love ya." Those three words you had waited such a long time for to leave his lips finally urged to your ears. Your jaw dropped as you couldn't believe it. A weak smile spread on his lips. "I love ya." Daryl repeated over and over again, voice growing quieter and quieter; eyes fluttering shut again. That was the moment you awoke from your rigidity. Your hands flew up to cup his beardy, sweaty cheeks. "Hey, hey, hey! No, no, no. Stay with me Daryl, please. Stay with me…" You rubbed his cheeks gently, but it was no use. He was already unconscious once again. You couldn't hold back the tears any longer. They were falling, rolling down your cheeks and dropping onto Daryl's chest. "No, no, no, please... Wake up..." You whispered. "Wake up..." He didn't. You felt so helpless and vulnerable in that moment; not knowing what to do or how to save him. You were lost and almost like paralyzed. All you could do was cry.

Through the haze you were in, you suddenly heard quick footsteps approaching. "Y/N!" Tomi. "Y/N! What happened?!" Miko's brother rushed to your side, quickly kneeling down beside you. As you didn't react, he gently touched your shoulder, causing you to flinch. "Hey. It's alright. It's just me." You looked at him with blurry red eyes. "What happened?!" Tomi asked again, as his eyes landed on Daryl's wound. You shook your head; completely overwhelmed by the situation. "I-I don't know he... He just said someone told him to go back to me to tell me something and-" You stopped abruptly in the middle of your sentence, realising what you were going to say. "And what, Y/N? And what?" You blinked, eyes meeting Tomi's once again. "That he loves me..." The doctor just looked at you for a moment, before his eyes travelled back to the wound. "Okay, this looks really bad. The wound is clearly infected. We have to do something now, or he is going to die of a sepsis." You frantically nodded, fresh tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. "W-What do we do?!" Just as Tomi wanted to answer, another voice cut through the air. "What is happening here?" Ezekiel. Tomi quickly turned around and explained the governor what was going on. "What do we do?!" You cried out again, interrupting the men's conversation. Tomi shook his head. "You are going to do nothing. You stay with Ezekiel, while I try to help him, okay?" You shook your head. "N-No! I-I can't leave him, I-" "Please, Y/N." Tomi insisted, nodding towards Ezekiel, who helped you up gently from the ground and took you with him. "B-But..." "No, it's for the best." You were way too weak to argue or fight, so you just let Ezekiel lead you away. From the corners of your eyes, you saw how quite a few other men came rushing to help bring Daryl inside the safety of the walls; disappearing inside the big building which was the infirmary.

Ezekiel took you to a quiet place in Alexandria and sat down with you on the warm, soft grass. "Firstly, take a deep breath, Y/N." You did what he said, inhaling deeply. "Good. Now tell me what happened - if you want to." You looked at the friendly man with the grey dreadlocks beside you, who gave you a warm, supportive smile. He was a wonderful friend, without a doubt. You nodded meekly, eyes lifting to meet his. "I-I was on the guard tower and saw that bike approaching." You started, fumbling anxiously with your hands. "I-It was Daryl. Gods, I was so happy to see him, a-and then he got off his bike and just... fell motionless to the ground. I-I was so afraid. I ran to him, saw that he was unconscious a-and that wound on his side... He was awake for a short moment. I-I asked him what happened and why he was back, but he didn't answer me... All he said was that someone told him to go back to me, to tell me something and..." You took another deep breath, feeling another tear roll down your cheek. "And that he loves me." Ezekiel's eyes widened, "He told you he loves you?" before a wide smile spread on his face, "Uh.Huh." accompanied by his signature laugh. "Finally! That's wonderful, Y/N. Isn't this what you always wanted to hear him say?" "Y-Yes but... He was more unconscious than conscious; and he had presumably very high fever. What if he didn't mean it?" Ezekiel laughed once again. "Oh Y/N... He may have been not quite in his right mind, but... I insure you, that he meant this with all his heart. You two have been dancing around each other for ages now." The king said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "It's obvious." You just nodded; your mind already bombarding you with the next bad thought. "A-And what if he's going to die?" The man shook his head. "He won't die. Tomi is a great doctor. He's going to fix him up. Hell, he even made it to fix me." Once more Ezekiel laughed, causing you to stifle a small giggle as well. "Trust me. Daryl won't die because of a cut and an infection. It may look bad, but this man went through far worse than that." "I know," you snivelled. "I know."

The waiting was excruciating. Not knowing what was happening to Daryl was eating you up inside. You were really glad that Ezekiel stayed by your side, with the others coming around as well, after they had heard what happened. First and foremost, Carol. It was her best friend, after all.

You couldn't tell how much time had passed, but when Tomi exited the infirmary, you were literally sprinting to meet him. He saw you coming his way, giving you immediately a smile. Must be a good sign, you thought. It was.

"A-And? H-How is he, Tomi?" The doctor nodded, still softly smiling. "He's okay." A relieved breath left your lips and you just couldn't help yourself, but to hug Tomi - who hugged you back with a gentle laugh. "We cleaned the wound, stitched it up and gave him antibiotics. The fever went down. He's asleep now." "Thank god... Can I go to him?" "Of course. Down the corridor, second room on the left." You smiled, hugging Miko's brother once again. "Thank you, Tomi. I mean it. Really. Thank you." The man smiled at you, nodding and squeezing your shoulder, before he turned on his heel and walked away - probably off to find his sister.

You went of course straight inside the building, entering the second room on the left and sat down on the chair beside Daryl's bed. He was still fast asleep and you didn't want to wake him, so you just stayed quiet, taking his limp hand gently into yours. You studied every inch of his face. His closed eyes. His nose. His lips. The slight grey stubble, which covered mostly his chin and upper lip; only a few sparse hairs on his cheeks. You smiled. So peaceful - and handsome.

You didn't know how long you were just sitting by his side, watching over Daryl and waiting for him to wake up again, but suddenly, you felt his hand twitch in yours, alarming you that he might was about to wake up. "Daryl?" You spoke softly, quietly. The archer's eyelids fluttered, face contorting. He blinked, blue, greyish eyes looking up at you. You smiled, squeezing his hand. "Hey." You whispered, "Y/N?" and nodded. "Yes, it's me. I'm here." Daryl swallowed visibly, eyes carefully roaming around the spacious room. "Am I back home?" "Yes, you are. We are in Alexandria." He then eyed you again - almost critically. "Are ya real?" You giggled slightly at his question, "Yes, I am real. I'm here." and squeezed his hand again, in order to 'proof' it. "So 'm not hallucinating again?" You frowned at his words, slight worry coming up inside you again. This meant nothing good... Daryl nodded, clearing his throat - what caused you to immediately jump into action and hand him the glass of water, which stood on the bedside table. Tomi must've prepared it. He literally gulped down the clear liquid. "Thanks." You smiled at him once again, though it was a very uptight smile. Hallucinating? "I was hallucinating. Can't be any other way..." "What happened?" "Well... I was ridin' my bike down that street, was in thoughts, didn't see that damn walker standin' there, lost control over the bike and yeah... Got thrown right into that barb wire fence." Your eyes widened. "You had a motorcycle accident?" "Yeah. It's nothin'. Jus' a lil' scratch. Wasn't the first." You narrowed your eyes, frowning. How could he play this off so easily? As if it was nothing? "Daryl... You could've died... This isn't nothing." "I know… but I didn't." The man paused for a second, biting his lip, before he continued. "Guess I would've, if he didn't tell me to go back." "Who?" "Rick." Now you were utterly confused. Was this the hallucination he was talking about? Must be. "Rick?" Daryl nodded. "Yeah. I saw Rick. He, uh, kinda woke me up, told me that I had ta go back and fix my wound... Like I said, I was hallucinatin'. From the blood loss, I suppose." "Well, that's kind of crazy, but also beautiful? If you know what I mean?" He nodded. "Yeah..."

You smiled and started to trace the shape of his skull tattoo on the back of his hand with your thumb. "I am very glad you are now here and okay... I missed you." The archer smiled back at you softly. "I missed ya, too." Daryl's words followed a somehow weird and awkward silence, like something unspoken hung in between you and him. Well... There was something. "Daryl?" "Yeah?" Now or never. Man up, Y/N, man the fuck up! "Y-You, um... You were saying, uh, things, when I came to you, shortly after you fell of this bike and were conscious for a moment." You paused, had to take a shaky breath. "I-I don't know if you remember, but... Y-You... You said that-" "I love ya?" Daryl interrupted you, finishing your sentence. Your eyes widened. "Y-You can remember?" He swallowed, visibly, nervous now. "Kinda blurry, but I do remember sayin' that." A beat of silence passed, in which you were just staring down at Daryl. Your heart beat rapidly against your ribcage; threatening to just break free. You didn't know if you should be happy now or not. Remembering to have said something - in a not so great condition, and actually meaning it, were two completely different things. You swallowed, trying to scrape together all the courage you had to ask him the question, which was ghosting through your head. "S-So, uh, is... Is it true? Did you... Did you mean it?" The archer bit his lip, recalling 'Rick's' words in his mind. Finally man up and tell 'er that you love 'er. "Yes." You blinked, still just staring at him and probably afraid to trust your ears. "Y-Yes?" He started to nod. "Loved ya for ages, but didn't have the balls to tell ya. I know I should've told ya earlier and-" You quickly jumped to interrupt him, overwhelmed by your feelings. Your lips collided with his, pulling Daryl into a long overdue kiss. You would've anticipated that he was completely surprised by your sudden, rather bold move - but he wasn't. Quite the opposite... Daryl kissed you back on an instant, as if he had been waiting for exactly this moment.

You smiled like a Cheshire Cat, cupping the man's cheeks again. "I've waited such a long time for this to finally happen." Daryl smiled that sweet smile, softly blushing. "Me too." "Everybody did!" Ezekiel suddenly spoke up behind you. He was leaning against the door frame, smiling widely, causing your cheeks to redden as well. Who knew? Perhaps you and Daryl were always meant to be together? Perhaps, he was your destiny.

#daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon #daryl x you #daryl imagines #twd fanfic #twd imagine #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine

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pastanest · 1 year

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A/N: if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post

Daryl Dixon x she/her!reader

spoilers: set in the Commonwealth, but no references to season-specific events

Material Girl

The front door to the apartment slammed against the wall as you stormed in and immediately threw your back against the door to close it again.

“Daryl, we’ve got to go. Now.”

Daryl stood from where he had been lying on the makeshift bed you shared, a mattress on the floor with a couple of pillows and blankets that you had decided to regard as a sleepover kit to make it seem a lot more fun than it really was. He had previously been throwing a tennis ball against the ceiling and catching it as he laid with his back against the mattress in an effort to piss off the neighbours in the flat above who continually played music at a deafening level, which was a problem he never imagined he would experience again. Alas, the Commonwealth had been the rebirth of first world problems in Daryl Dixon’s life.

Tennis ball in-hand, Daryl approached you with a concerned frown, trying to determine what exactly had you staring at him like a deer in headlights before he eventually nodded.

“Alright, gotta grab the kids.”

He didnt question your motives, he trusted your judgement completely, and if you said it was time to go, he was ready.

To Daryl’s surprise, you shook your head as you bustled past him and began absentmindedly tidying away the few toys you’d managed to buy RJ and Judith with the little money you’d earnt from your job so far. “No, we cant take them out of school.”

Daryl looked at you like you were insane. “Ya aint suggestin’ we actually LEAVE ‘em here?!”

You stared back at him blankly, blinking. “When I said we’ve got to go…”

Daryl nodded. “Go, as in leave this place.”

At that, you scoffed and shook your head. “Absolutely not.”

Daryl watched, utterly baffled, as you returned to his side at the front door. “Then where ‘re we goin?”

And in horror, Daryl watched as a wide grin spread across your face and you spoke a word he had hoped he would never hear leave your lips.

“Shopping!”

It came to pass that you and Rosita had discovered a clothes store down the street that you had not yet explored in your first week of being in this alternative dimension to the world beyond the walls. The two of you had decided you would drag Daryl and Eugene - kicking and screaming in mind, sulking and hanging their heads low in body - shopping, solely to be the audience to your fashion show. It was unlikely you would be able to afford anything, but neither of you cared, it was the principle.

Daryl Dixon never thought he would see the day when he was led by the hand of the love of his life into a clothing store, while the dead were walking the earth everywhere else. It was one of the most fucked up moments of his life, in all honesty, and he could not stop imagining Merle getting kicked out of a store like this for fondling a mannequin’s plastic breasts and then continuing to howl with laughter from beyond the display windows as Daryl actually stood in a clothes store. He and Eugene were pushed into a pair of chairs opposite a row of changing room doors, and then you and Rosita disappeared into the store, giggling like a pair of teenage girls. Still, at least Daryl wasnt alone in his suffering.

“Scenes of this nature are usually inserted prior to events such as a fictional prom or date amongst women in their most highly rated flicks for chicks. Perhaps this insinuates we are the lucky ones, comrade-in-mannequin-arms.”

On second thought, maybe Daryl would rather be sitting alone.

Twenty agonising minutes later, you and Rosita returned to Daryl’s line of sight, and then you both disappeared behind the changing room doors. Daryl shuffled in his seat and straightened his shirt, knowing that if nothing else, this was the part he needed to take seriously. Not that he would ever admit it, but he knew Eugene was right. As stereotypical as it was, getting proper feedback to new outfits and the like was an important thing for partners to give each other. He would also never admit to anyone except you that he had often had dreams of being with you in the old world and doing mundane shit exactly like this, going to the movies, going out for dinner, being dragged on a shopping trip that you both know he’d just be pretending he hated. As much as he isnt entirely comfortable with the social aspect of it all, Daryl cant deny that the sheer joy on your face at being able to experience something you clearly never thought you would again, really was a sight for sore eyes.

And so, Daryl mentally prepared himself to deliver compliments that usually would not be heard by an audience, because this was his chance to publicly declare his affections, in the least obnoxious way possible. The two of you had been together long enough, he was past the point of worrying about you rejecting any kind of compliment from him.

The first outfit was a sunshine yellow dress that took Daryl’s breath away, and he made certain to let you know when he rose from his seat the second you stepped out of the changing room, like a gentleman rising from the table when the lady entered a room.

“Go on, gi’ me a spin.” He gestured to you, and you giggled as spun around, lifting the skirt of the dress as you twirled, and Daryl couldnt wipe the dopey smile off of his face as he wolf whistled at you.

“Aint you jus’ a dime, sweet girl.” He walked up to you and held your hands in his, leaning forward just enough to plant a soft kiss on your forehead.

Meanwhile, Rosita’s first outfit was a pair of baggy green camo pants and a long sleeved black t-shirt, to which Eugene made the very astute observation of her resembling Kim Possible, causing Rosita to scoff and return to the changing room.

Your second outfit was a more multi-purpose one, a nice pair of jeans and a flower blouse that both complimented your figure but enabled you to kick some serious ass if shit hit the fan. A pretty, but still adaptable ensemble. Daryl once again rose from his seat and requested a spin, his eyes very nearly rolling out of his skull at the sight of your ass in those jeans, causing him to clear his throat and straighten his shirt as he blushed, which you definitely noticed.

“Looks real good on you.” He said, and he cannot believe it, but he actually gave two very brief thumbs up as he sat back down. Merle would have literally passed out in the street if he’d seen Daryl do that.

Rosita’s second outfit was a gorgeous summer dress that was flattering, comfortable, and made you call her the hottest milf you’ve ever seen. Eugene blinked at this, nodded, and elected not to say anything for fear of Rosita knocking his teeth out.

Your third and final outside was the money maker, the one that you knew Daryl would like the most, and you were absolutely right. When you had stepped out of the changing room, Daryl had been slouching in the chair with his right elbow against the armrest and his right index finger across his top lip, trying to get the image of your ass in those jeans out of his mind. But when he saw the image of you, decked out in a pair of black skinny jeans, a strappy blood red tank with killer cleavage and a black leather jacket with an amalgamation of classic rock band logos and badges stitched to the back of it, Daryl Dixon very nearly lost consciousness.

At your side, Rosita stepped out in her final outfit: a floor length, slinky and strapless red dress, with equally killer cleavage. Eugene’s spirit had ascended beyond the realm of comprehension for a short time, and he genuinely looked like he had been shot.

Feeling your confidence skyrocket from the way you had stunned your boyfriend, you put on a fake sultry southern accent and said “Tell me about it, stud” before you and Rosita bursted into fits of laughter.

It was then, Eugene’s spirit returned to him, and he cleared his throat. “This is what I believe to be the showstopper to stop all of the shows. Speaking entirely from a statistical standpoint, given the state of the world and its lack of societies as we know it, Rosita, I wish to offer my humble being if we should be the last humans on earth at any point and you wish to repopulate. If you do not wish to continue the species, however, I will respect this with the utmost chivalry, and will remain at your side until the very last sunset. It is not likely we will live to see the very last sunset of our earth’s sun, but I will be at your side until we see our last sunset with what I hope to be much older eyes. Furthermore-“

At that point, Rosita cut him off. “Okay, Eugene, we get it! Go get some air, you’re like a dog on heat.”

Not having the grounds to disagree with that statement, Eugene stood from his chair and left the store, waiting outside like a child who’s been told by his mother he cant enter the store because he cant be trusted not to touch anything. In the meantime, Rosita returned to the changing room to return to the clothes she had arrived in, and you shook your head.

“Those two are one hell of a duo.” You chuckled, then realised Daryl was still staring at you and had not moved. “Hey, everything alright? Earth to Daryl?” You waved a hand in front of his face and when you got no response, crouched down in front of him. This altered Daryl’s view of your cleavage considerably, and he swallowed.

“Ya gonna buy that?” He asked, his voice husky.

You laughed. “I wish! There’s no way I can afford it, unfortunately.”

Still not moving, Daryl responded. “We’ll save up.”

You raised an eyebrow, smiling at him as you recognised the scale of the impact you’d had on him. “Yeah?”

Daryl nodded, then asked another question. “How long ‘til the kids get home?”

Checking your watch, you glanced back at him. “About an hour, why?”

For a brief moment, there was silence, before Daryl nodded, stood up, nodded at the changing room, and finally glanced at you.

“How quick can ya get changed and get home?”

Your eyes widened. “Uhh, 10 minutes, probably, why?”

With one last full look up and down your body, Daryl nodded. “See ya in 10.”

And then, he was out of that front door and on his way home faster than you can say Eugene had passed out in the middle of the street.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #headcannon #headcannons

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lover-girl-estxx · 3 months

Note

Nate 38 x reader 36

One of their children gets hurt and Nate isn’t home and the reader calls him as calm as possible and he loses his mind.

Angst, sad fluff?

Call

a/n how is he so hot!? that arm!

boys are 4 and twins

it was the first hot day we've had in a long time, RJ and Nate were on the trampoline and two year old Natalie coloring at the outside table. I was cutting watermelon for them in the kitchen watching them through the window. I heard a scream from RJ then "Mom!" from Nate I ran outside RJ had his arm behind him and twisted "oh my god" I gasped "Nate go get my phone please" he nodded and ran into the house. "bubba you have to relax theres nothing I can do right now" I said as he cried I took the phone calling Nate "hey ma-" "Nate you need to come home I think RJs arm dislocated" "what?!" "they were by them selfs for 10 minutes-" "did you call 911!?" his voice got louder "no I can't leave Nate and Nat" "Call! Now! i'll be there in a bit!"

The EMT put him on a stretch "my husband gonna be here soon then i'll ride with him" I said they nodded one of the EMTs were with Nate and Natalie while I ran my fingers through RJs hair as he cried "it's okay it's only gonna hurt for a bit". Nate's truck pulled up he hopped out "the hell happened?!" he said "him and Nate were on the trampoline" "how long did you leave them out there?" I sighed "we have to go" "RJ you okay?!" I could tell Nate was worked up Rj nodded "it hurts" Nate sighed and leaned over and kissed his head.

Nate: my mom has the kids i'm gonna meet you there

"were gonna give him some meds so we can pop in back into place" I nodded "how long will it take?" I asked " two hours we can get you guys home" "okay thank you" I lightly smiled. "is daddy coming?" he asked "yeah hes on the way" i smiled. I had to leave the room so they could work on his arm "where is he?!" Nate ran up to me "hes getting worked on" "by himself?!" he went to go in the room I grabbed his arms "we can't go in there we have to wait" "how long did you leave them out there?!" "you gonna blame me?" he shrugged and his lips going into a thin line "whatever" I walked away and sat down bring on knees to my chest.

Nate's arms were still crossed walking back and forth "it's gonna be a while sit down," I said he looked over at me then sat next to me, his knee started going up and down, I put my hand on his knee "he can't feel anything Nate" "how the fuck are you so calm?!" "it happened, hes okay nothing to be upset about" he took a deep breath "sorry" it's okay" I kissed his shoulder.

"hes all done" Nate hopped up and went in the room "hes gonna be a little out of it for a while, when you get him home just make sure he eat and rests" I nodded "thank you" I lightly smiled Nate was laying next to RJ in the bed "I get a cool cast now" RJ said and giggled Nate smiled "can we go home?" Nate nodded "yeah" Nate picked him up "hi" I kissed RJs cheek "you okay?" he nodded.

RJ was laying next to me watching the movie that we had playing on my TV in our room, Natalie was asleep next to me with her blanket around her. Nate came in holding Nate (lol) sitting next to her "Nate put me in an arm bar" RJ said "he what?!" Nate said looking down at Nate in his lap "he punched me!" "did not!" "did too look!" Nate lifted his shirt to show a bruise "what did I tell you guys about fighting?" Nate said "not to it's fine" RJ said "you hurt your arm" I said they shrugged "well we all know i'm better at fighting now" Nate whispered "Nate!" me and Nate said.

a/n Idk what this is

#ufc #nate diaz #nate diaz imagine #nate diaz x reader #nate diaz imagines #ufc x reader #Nate Diaz by est

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sydsaint · 2 years

Text

WarDaddy Time Babes!!

Summary: The reader is MJF's sister and a replacement for RJ City on his podcast show, Hey! ew. Her special guest for the show is Wardlow, and the pair have instant chemistry.

"Thanks again for setting this whole thing up for me, Max. Turns out that you're actually useful for some things." You tease your brother while one of the camera crew attaches your microphone.

Max rolls his eyes at you an scoffs. "Yeah well, I knew that I'd never hear the end of it if I didn't." He insists. "Have fun. I hope that you embarrass yourself."

"Me?" You laugh. "Please. Never gonna happen little brother." You wink at him.

Max rolls his eyes again and walks off since his work is done for the night. You adjust your blouse once the audio team is done and wait for your podcast guest to arrive.

A few minutes later, a large shadow is cast in the small room. You glance at the doorway where your special guest awaits you. Wardlow.

"Wardlow, hi!" You walk over to him with a friendly and confident smile. "Damn, you are fucking tall." You laugh when you have to crane your neck in order to look him in the eyes. "I hope that my brother didn't give you any trouble when he asked you to be on the show."

Wardlow smiles down at you and chuckles. "Not at all. I've actually been looking forward to meeting you, Y/N." He admits. "Friedman used to go on about his evil sister all of the time."

"Evil, huh?" You grin. "Well I wouldn't say that exactly. But I guess that Max had to learn all of those backhanded tactics from somewhere right?" You joke. "Come on, lets get you mic'd up and then we can get the interview started." You usher him into the room.

Wardlow nods and the audio team get him wired up for his interview. You retrieve your list of questions that you wrote up earlier and take a seat in your chair. Wardlow sits down in the chair next to you and the camera crew signal that they are ready to record.

"Hello! And welcome to, 'Hey! EW', my name is Y/N Friedman filling in for RJ City while he's busy being less cool than me." You snark. "I am sitting here today with the current AEW TNT champion. Everyone's favorite muscly hunk, Wardlow." You nod to Wardlow. "Now Wardlow, tell me? How does it feel to be my current favorite man in AEW after your shocking betrayl of my own brother, and resident pain in the ass scumbag, Maxwell Jacob Friedman?"

Wardlow attempts to hide a laugh and shifts in his chair. "Umm, I have to say. Yeah, it feels great. Thanks." He tells you.

"Oh no thanks needed here, big man." You laugh. "I think that we can all agree that you were doing the world a favor with that one." You insist and glance back down at your paper. "Now you grew up in a very small town, which apparently is home to the 3rd largest Amish population in the country. How was it growing up Amish?" You joke with a serious look on your face.

Again, Wardlow stifles a small laugh. "Well, I wasn't really Amish growing up." He admits. "But I did know a lot of them as a kid." He adds.

"Now I assume that when you say 'knew them,' you really mean that you freelanced as a workhorse for them?" You quip. "You know, raising barns and carrying lumber? Things like that?"

"Uh, yeah sure. I guess you could say that." Wardlow nods.

You rattle off a few more ridiculous question that you've got written down. But Wardlow seems to have a good answer for every one of them. The chemistry in the room is at an all time high with every back-and-forth exchange.

"Now according to my sources, you claim that you strive to up the numbers in AEW's female demographics. As well as their 19-40 demo's as well?" You ask Wardlow the last question on your list.

"Yes." Wardlow nods.

"Well." You uncross your legs and lean forward in your chair. "It just so happens that I am a member of both of those demographics. So please, pitch me your case for upping these rating." You ask him.

Wardlow nods, a grin playing on his face. "Alright." He agrees and gets to his feet.

You watch with your hands folded in front of you as Wardlow gets up and carefully pulls his shirt over his head. He turns to the camera and does a couple of flexes before he turns back to you.

You remain stone-faced at the impressive display. "Okay, solid point." You nodd at him. "But what if I'm not convinced?" You challenge him.

"I bet that I could lift and hold you on one shoulder no problem." Wardlow replies without missing a beat.

Before you can get a reply out, Wardlow hauls you to your feet by the arm. You get pulled to your feet and he does as promised with very little effort. You are hauled up and set on his left shoulder with ease and you finally break character and let out a laugh.

"Damn!" You laugh as Wardlow sets you back down on the floor. "Well a girl certainly can't argue with that." You sit back down in your chair.

You finish up the interview and strip off your microphone from your blouse. Wardlow lingers around after everything is finalized so you walk over to him to chat.

"Well, that was definitely the funnest interview that I've done." You laugh as you approach him.

Wardlow chuckles and nods in agreement. "Yeah, I had fun." He admits. "You know, you are way more fun than your brother." He jokes. "And prettier, too."

"I get that a lot." You giggle. "Hey, if you aren't busy. You wan't to grab some dinner with me?" You ask him.

"Sure." Wardlow grins down at you. "I could eat."

#aew #aew dynamite #aew dark #wrestling #aew fanfiction #aew elevation #aew imagine #all elite wrestling #aew wrestling #wardlow #mjf

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theteasetwrites · 2 years

Text

The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning

Chapter 72: A Mother's Work

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 10 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: illness (including vomiting) ❧ Word Count: 5.5k

❧ In This Chapter: Drama continues to unfold when it is revealed that Negan escaped during the night, and Lydia takes responsibility by locking herself up. You have a heart-to-heart with Lydia, though old habits die hard. Meanwhile, a sickness begins to spread through Alexandria, putting your six-year-old daughter in the infirmary.

❧ A/N: Love family/domestic moments in the Dixon household. Very cute. Of course, things go awry when Negan goes missing, and poor little Robin gets sick. At least she has such good parents to take care of her. I remember when I used to get sick as a little kid and have to stay home from elementary school. I kind of liked it (besides the sick part, obviously) because my mom would stay home, too, and just dote on me all day, making me instant ramen or chicken noodle soup and watching moves with me. Ah, those were the days... Okay, so it's way worse to be sick in the apocalypse, but you catch my drift.

Painting—a tried and true activity for the little ones. It kept them busy while you cleaned the house, and even in the early hours of the morning, when the sun was still hanging low in the sky, Robin and RJ were eager to get their hands dirty, smudged in myriad bright colors, and their painting smocks taking the brunt of the damage.

Even Dog got a little paint on him, which you were quick to try to scrub out. “Daryl!” you yelled to him, trying to hold the dog still in the kitchen as you attempted to clean his fur. “Help me with your dog!”

RJ and Robin held back giggles from the kitchen counter, where they were embracing their inner artists.

“Ha ha, very funny,” you said, now with your arms tangled loosely around Dog’s neck. “Daryl!”

He trudged down the stairs, still buttoning up his shirt as he pressed a kiss to Robin’s head. “Need help?” he asked with an amused smirk.

You scoffed. “Hold him down. I don’t want this paint to dry on his fur.”

Daryl shook his head and looked over at the kids, making a playfully shocked face. “Sounds like Momma likes Dog now,” he said to Robin, then moved forward to hold down Dog. Only he didn’t really have to hold him down, simply clapped his hands and made the animal obediently sit and stare up at him without any manhandling.

You huffed, and blew a piece of your hair that had fallen over your face. “How… How did you… Never mind.”

The dog sat still as you cleaned his fur with a washcloth, unwilling as you were to give him a full-on bath since he would always get himself dirty within minutes of drying.

“There,” you said, rising to your feet and happy with the now much cleaner Dog before you. “Go on, you mangy mutt.”

“It’s not nice to call Daddy names,” said Robin, smirking at her own little joke as she daintily held her paintbrush to her canvas.

“Oh, I’d never call Daddy that,” you said, stepping over Dog as he scurried off to run around the house, and landing in Daryl’s arms where you placed a short kiss upon his lips.

“Ew!” Robin and RJ exclaimed.

They burst into laughs with each other at their shared disgust for romance, but were quickly silenced by Lydia’s presence as she appeared in the doorway, her face showing evidence of last night’s brutal encounter.

You unlaced your arms from around Daryl and cleared your throat. “Morning, Lydia.”

She crossed her arms and moved past you, going for the pantry where she kept the cereal she made for herself. “Morning.”

Daryl eyed her worriedly as he crossed over to the kids, peering over their shoulders to see what they’d painted.

“What ya got there?” he asked RJ first.

He held his half-finished canvas up proudly. “Dog,” he said, pointing to the rudimentary image of a canine, with pointed ears and fur colored in anything but Dog’s natural brown and black coat.

“That’s great,” said Daryl cheerfully, in the slightly softened version of his usually gruff voice. “What about you, birdie?”

She straightened her back and held up her Canvas, a little more humbly than RJ, but eager to explain her vision. It was much more complicated than RJ’s, but that was to be expected. RJ was the most easy going kid in Alexandria, hardly ever burdened by the reality of the world around him.

“I’m painting Hilltop,” she said, and began pointing to each important element of the painting. “Those are the walls, that’s the Barrington House, that’s the patch of flowers Mommy and I went to last year, and that’s me, Mommy, and Dog.”

Daryl smiled at the attention to detail, admiring the delicate brush strokes that he was sure even he couldn’t achieve. She had always been so creative, and at this point, Daryl’s bulletin board in his garage was covered in Robin Dixon’s original artwork. He was her biggest fan.

Even the stick figures representing you, her, and Dog were somehow more artful looking than they had been a year or two ago. She was progressing greatly with her art, and it never ceased to amaze him.

“Wow, that’s amazing,” he said in awe, narrowing his eyes and scanning the whole canvas to observe the hidden details. “You even got the rust on the walls.”

“I told her,” you said, wiping down the dining room table with wood polish, “she should do some paintings for the library, you know, on that wall I still haven’t figured out what to do with.”

Daryl nodded and rubbed Robin’s shoulder. “That’s a great idea.”

“Can I paint some things for the library, too?” asked RJ.

“Of course—” you said, and your words were quickly interrupted by a series of loud knocks at the front door, which caused Dog to bark in his usual routine.

“Dog!” yelled Daryl, who whistled to the canine to come to him. “Who the hell is knockin’ like that right now?”

Moments passed, and the knocking continued, more impatiently now. Lydia looked between you and Daryl, wide-eyed at the sudden chaos of the noise.

“I’ll get it,” huffed Daryl, annoyed by the interruption of an otherwise peaceful morning. No doubt, with Michonne gone and with everything that was happening inside and outside the walls, whoever was knocking at the door was going to have something important to tell Daryl, which would prompt him to have to spring into action as he always did.

“Not a moment’s peace,” you sighed, replacing your meticulously decorated bouquet atop the now polished dining table.

The knocking continued loudly as Daryl picked up the pace, dreading whatever news was to befall him.

“What?” he asked, seriously irritated at this point.

He was greeted by the immensely worried face of Father Gabriel, mouth slightly agape and eyes, or at least, his one good eye, making even Daryl anxious, and he hadn’t even said anything yet.

“He’s gone,” he said.

“Negan’s gone?” you asked incredulously, looking between Aaron and Gabriel as the three of you stood on the street outside the building that usually housed Negan. “How is that possible? Wasn’t someone on watch?”

“Laura was,” answered Gabriel. “But she said she didn’t do it, and I believe her.”

“Keys are missing,” said Aaron quietly, trying not to cause panic. “Whoever stole them must’ve let him out.”

You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “This doesn’t look good,” you said. “People are already up in arms. They’re gonna think Lydia did it.”

“Or you,” suggested Aaron.

You scoffed. “Yeah, like I’d let that piece of shit out of his cage.”

“I’m not saying you did,” Aaron added, “but they might think that. Your reputation hasn’t been great since you took Lydia in, and Negan did save you last night, too.”

Lydia’s presence eluded you for a while, until she uttered the phrase, “I did it,” as she walked past the three of you. “I let Negan out.” She made her way down the stairs to the basement, letting herself into the makeshift jail and closing herself in the cell.

You gaped between Aaron and Gabriel. “No,” you said. “No way.”

An hour or so passed, and you were sure Lydia would come back up and stop pretending to be responsible for Negan’s disappearance, but your hopes were crushed, and soon you couldn’t take it anymore. Lydia wanted her space, but you had to be a guardian to her, whether she liked it or not.

“Come on,” you said, unlatching the bar of the cell door. “You didn’t do this.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Lydia,” you sighed, “Daryl’s got about ten different mechanisms on that front door to scream like a banshee anytime someone opens it, and only him and I know how to switch it off. Even if you did figure it out, a mouse couldn’t move around our house without Daryl waking up. If you did it, he’d know, and I’d know.” You ended your sentence with a laugh, trying to ease the situation, but Lydia only stared at the concrete, her legs wrapped up to her chest as she sat upon Negan’s cot.

“So, what’s this all about?” you continued. “You prefer this… cell, to your bedroom? I mean, you can tell me. I won’t be offended. Well, maybe just a little.”

She huffed as she looked up at you. “Does it matter? This is where they want me.”

“Doesn’t matter what they want,” you said. “It matters what you want.”

She returned her gaze to the concrete, and shook her head a little in thought. “You know, for a long time, I blamed myself for what happened last year. Kept thinking, what if I just stayed in that cell at Hilltop? If I never let myself be taken alive by you people in the first place? Never went off with Henry? Never said what I said to my mother?”

“You’re not to blame for her,” you said, eyes softening in pity and understanding. You, too, wondered how things might’ve been different, but you also learned a long time ago that it didn’t matter what might’ve happened then. The only thing that matters is what’s happening now.

“My mother was right,” she replied. “She said you people put on these… polite faces, but it’s just a mask. ‘Cause when things get bad, when you get scared… you pick a target, aim, and shoot. Me, Negan, anything but you.”

You found it rich, that her mother believed your people wore masks, when quite literally, it was her and the Whisperers who did just that.

Still, you were hurt by her words, just when you thought you might’ve been getting somewhere with Lydia, that she accepted you all as family, despite everything that had happened. Of course there were people who would not understand, but you’d protect her from them, as you tried to do last night, as you’d done before.

“Negan’s different,” you said. “You didn’t know him, what he did… There’s a reason we keep him in this cell, you know that.”

“The Negan I know stood up for me when he didn’t have to,” she said. “I tried fitting in… because I wanted to be like you.” Her voice welled up, and she averted her gaze from you.

“I wanted to be like you, and Daryl,” she continued. “I wanted to see the world the way you see it, not like my mother. She thinks this world you live in is over, that the dead are the future. I wanted to believe it’s different, like you.”

You moved slowly towards her, careful not to overwhelm her with your presence, but desiring to be closer to her.

“Can I sit?” you asked.

She nodded her head, and shifted over to make room for you to sit comfortably on Negan’s cot.

“Listen,” you said. “I, um… I didn’t have a great mom. She wasn’t anything like—well, she was just not… warm, or understanding. I remember this one time, I brought home my first college boyfriend, Freddie.”

You immediately hated how every anecdote you had seemed to revolve around your love life.

“He wasn’t in school, he was actually in a local band in Charlottesville. He played drums, and had this beautiful, long hair. I never saw a guy with long hair, and I just thought he was so cool.” You laughed, suddenly realizing your attraction to long hair, and why you never wanted Daryl to cut it.

“Anyway, my mom didn’t like him at all. She hated his hair, and how he played in a rock n’ roll band.” You rolled your eyes exaggeratingly, laughing as you thought back to her objection to Freddie, who was always kind to you, and yet she loved Jerome. Lydia seemed to smirk a little, too, as much as she could after what she’d been through.

“See, my mom wanted me to be just like her, except better. She wanted me to be a stay-at-home mom like her, but to marry a rich, successful guy to make all the money, like a doctor or something. So when I told her I wanted to be a librarian instead of a homemaker, she lost it, and I think that was the beginning of our falling out, when I stopped caring about what she wanted for me. Well, there were other things, too, but that was a big one.”

“Do you think she would’ve liked Daryl?”

You snorted in amusement. “Absolutely not, and I wouldn’t really care what she’d think of him… I guess what I’m trying to say is… there’s no shame in seeing the world differently from your parents, or wanting something different for yourself. Your mother raised you to believe that your people’s way of life was the only way, that living among the dead was… natural, and maybe she’s right, I don’t know, but what I do know is that you’re different from her. You’re your own person, Lydia, and you don’t have to believe whatever your mother tells you is right, not anymore.”

You took her hand in yours, and it seemed much less stiff than it had before.

“There are people in this world who will never understand you,” you said. “They’ll try to wear you down and tell you that you don’t belong here, but you do. You belong here because you’re an individual, because you think for yourself, and you know the difference between right and wrong. Now, I don’t care what anyone out there thinks—you are one of us, and you don’t belong in a cage.”

She looked down at your hand in hers, and smiled ever so slightly up at you.

“I feel safe in here,” she said simply. “And… I don’t want them blaming you… for letting Negan out.”

You smiled sweetly, touched by her apparent care for you.

“Oh, hon,” you said. “Anyone who suggests that I let out Negan will have to deal with my exhaustingly protective husband, and no one wants that. Don’t you worry about me.”

“Still,” she said with a shrug, “I’m gonna stay down here for a while. I like the quiet.”

You sighed, but smiled at her nevertheless. “Okay.” You squeezed her hand before letting it drape loosely at her side as you rose up from the cot. “But unlike Negan, you’re not in here by force. Just say the word and we’ll let you out, all right?”

She nodded in understanding, and unspoken gratitude. “Thanks, (Y/N).”

You approached your house with a smile, seeing the familiar back of Daryl’s worn leather vest, now with only one angel wing holding on for dear life, in front of your door, where he was scrubbing at the graffiti upon your front door.

“Hi,” you said, wrapping your arms around him from the back and resting your chin upon his strong shoulder. “Thanks for doing that.”

He grunted in acknowledgment, and leaned down to soak the scouring pad in soapy water from the bucket at his feet.

“No reason the girls need to see this every time they come home,” he said, referring to Lydia and Robin.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Only I think Lydia’s going to be down there for a while. She feels safe in that cell.”

He furrowed his brow at that, not understanding how she could feel more comfortable in that cell than in the bedroom you made for her.

“Well, guess she’ll come out when she’s ready,” he said.

“Mmm.” You stepped back to watch him work, and smirked at the tattered vest on his back. “You should let me mend that, maybe we could even make you a new wing. Angels can’t fly with just one.”

He scoffed as he scrubbed the door, almost completely getting off the paint now. “I’m an angel now, huh?”

“My angel,” you cooed, and wrapped your arms around his waist again. You leaned into the warmth of his neck and nuzzled your face there to kiss him. “You still leaving for Hilltop today, sweetheart?”

He lowered his hand and tossed the scouring pad into the bucket before turning around in your arms to face you.

“Just for a few hours, see if they need any help with the wall. That okay?”

You smiled and rocked your shoulders at his consideration to ask you. “Well,” you sighed exaggeratingly, “I’d prefer it if you stayed here, as usual, but I understand.” You trailed your eyes up and down his arms, hidden by his quarter-length sleeves, but you could still see the outline of his large biceps, upon which you let your fingers dance playfully. “They could use a good pair of strong, muscular arms…”

He rolled his eyes at you, but brought his hands to your lower back to pull you in for a kiss. Over the years he became more comfortable showing small public displays of affection, which you chalked up to getting older and just generally not giving a shit anymore about appearing “tough.”

“Sometimes I wish you’d start wearing those sleeveless shirts again,” you said. You knew he’d abandoned wearing them even before Robin was born, saying that “dads don’t wear ‘em,” but you just loved drooling over those big, toned arms of his. “Just for me…”

“Hmm,” he hummed, amused by your fascination with his arms. He lifted your chin and placed another kiss upon your nose, to which your face scrunched up teasingly. “Ain’t it enough you get to see ‘em when I’m naked?”

You snorted, that adorable little mannerism that Daryl adored from the moment he first heard it back at the quarry.

“Oh, I get to see plenty of stuff I like when you’re naked. For example…” You reached down between your bodies to palm at his crotch, and he let out a small, deep gasp at the feeling before reluctantly peeling your hand away, all the while looking around to make sure no one saw your fondling. He might’ve been confident enough to let you kiss him in public now, but he sure as hell wasn’t gonna let anyone in on your more intimate affections for each other.

“Crazy woman,” he said, his lips creeping into a crooked smile. “Grabbin’ my cock in broad daylight… When I get back from Hilltop tonight, I’ll have to lay down the law with you, baby girl.”

“That sounds heavenly.”

Only after Daryl left that morning did you realize things might not be all sunshine and rainbows when Daryl came back.

Heather walked Robin to the library where you were working, claiming she’d vomited in the middle of her class.

You dropped everything, immediately taking Robin to the infirmary.

There was a relatively new doctor there named Dante. He’d been welcomed into the community about four months prior, and you were hoping not to see him, and to see Siddiq instead, but you also knew Siddiq was a little preoccupied with his own child, Coco, so it wasn’t surprising when Dante was the only doctor there.

“Hmm,” he hummed as he listened to Robin’s heartbeat and she breathed dutifully in and out for him. “Well,” he said as he leaned up, “no breathing abnormalities.” He looked back at you, worried as you sat beside the exam table in the provided chair. “Any changes in diet?”

“No,” you said, thinking back to everything you knew Robin had eaten in the past few days. “Not that I know of. We had, uh… Brussels sprouts, green beans, and… oh, baked beans and bread last night. RJ and Daryl had venison, too, but Robin’s been eating vegetarian for a while now… Siddiq said that would be fine. Could that have something to do with it?”

You were desperate to find any answer other than that Robin was ill. God forbid she had anything close to what you had back at the prison. You’d been sick since then, but nothing compared to that.

“Probably not,” he answered. “Only thing I could think she’d get from a vegetarian diet would be vitamin deficiencies, but she’s all good according to the last blood test. Nah, based on everything, I’d say it’s just a stomach bug.” He poked Robin’s belly softly, eliciting a surprised jump from her. “Maybe food poisoning, but I doubt that. If it were, you and Daryl and RJ would be sick, too. No, I think this is just your run-of-the-mill gastroenteritis.”

You straightened your back and cringed a little at the medical term, though you knew it was nothing serious. Still, you weren’t going to take any chances, what with the relatively limited medical treatment available to you.

“So what can we do?”

“Mommy,” Robin moaned, looking at you with a pained expression as she grabbed at her stomach. “My tummy… I—”

Dante was quick to grab the nearest receptacle—an empty trash bin—for her to vomit in. You cringed at the sound of her pained moans as the food and bile rose up in her throat.

You rushed to her side, holding her hair back with one hand and rubbing her back with the other.

“Oh, baby,” you sighed, and looked back up at Dante in worry.

“Don’t worry,” he said, grabbing your shoulder with his free hand, a feeling which made you cringe even more. Though you had known him for four months, the man still didn’t sit entirely right with you. He was almost too friendly. “This is really common in kiddos.” He pulled the trash can away upon the cessation of Robin’s vomiting, and you quickly wiped her face with a nearby paper towel as she coughed, worrying you again at the presence of a new symptom. “It’ll clear up in a few days, maybe even by tomorrow. Just have her rest up and drink plenty of fluids to keep her hydrated. Maybe some soup, too.”

You stroked her hair and looked worriedly at her pained, exhausted expression.

“I make a great tomato-basil soup,” you said, and patted her back gently. “Come on, sweet pea. Let’s get you snuggled up in bed.”

She didn’t fuss, only fretted about missing her usual after-school play date with Gracie at Aaron’s, but you managed to convince her to get her pajamas on and rest, while Dog dutifully sat at her bedside.

You sat a large, old pot on her bedside table in case she had to vomit again, and sure enough, she did, worrying you to no end as you heard her pained moans from the kitchen where you prepared the tomatoes for her soup.

“Hey,” you said, peeking into her bedroom to check on her. “Another one?”

“Mhm,” she said, rubbing her eyes with balled fists. Her hair was a mess, staticky and tangled from laying on her pillow. She broke out into another dry, grating cough, folding her arm over her mouth as you’d taught her so as not to spread germs.

You furrowed your brows in pity as you walked over to her, sitting beside her on the bed and tucking her back in.

“Oh, honey,” you sighed as you brushed her hair back from her forehead, and felt a terrible heat emanating from her skin, which sent a fresh surge of worry through your body. “I’m going to make you some elderberry tea,” you said sternly, knowing the girl would protest drinking tea. “I’ll put three spoonfuls of sugar in there if I have to. You’re drinking that tea.”

You did just that, spooning heavy dollops of sugar to get the kid to drink it. When you made sure she drank every last sip, and even a second cup, you encouraged her to try to sleep so you could work on the soup.

Dog sat at your feet, begging for food as he usually did.

“No meat here, buddy,” you said to the canine as you chopped tomatoes, and he whimpered at your voice. “What? You want a tomato? I don’t think so. You wouldn’t like it… God, I hope this isn’t serious,” you said to the dog, falling into your habit of having full-on conversations with the creature. “She’s never been sick like this before. A little cold here and there, but never like this… And Daryl’s gonna be worried sick when he gets home. He’s already got so much on his plate.”

You looked down at the dog between cutting tomatoes, and his big brown eyes, coupled with his gentle, comforting panting, brought a small smile to your face. “I wish I were a dog, everything would be so much easier… But as they say, a mother’s work is never done. Yes, they do say that, don’t they, buddy?” you cooed in your baby voice to the dog, who more or less looked at you with that dumb, adorable face of his.

You gently awoke Robin from her shallow, fevered sleep to serve her a bowl of soup and some bread, though she hardly ate anything, terrified she’d throw it all up again, and without any appetite to speak of, anyway.

All she wanted to do was sleep, and you let her, trudging down the stairs at nightfall to plop yourself down on the couch, where Dog nuzzled his head into your lap.

“Hey, boy,” you huffed as you pet his furry back. “I’m exhausted.”

Still, you busied yourself by periodically checking on the sleeping Robin and the “imprisoned” Lydia, all the while concocting another tea from elderberries, ginger, echinacea, and honey—every natural ingredient in Alexandria’s reach that you knew had healing properties for illness, at least, according to the herbal medicine books, and Siddiq.

As you steeped your concoction, the front door opened with a familiar thrust, and Daryl came through, greeted by Dog, who was always happy to see his favorite person.

“Hi, buddy,” cooed Daryl in his baby voice. “You miss me? Thought so. Where’s Momma, huh? Where’s that crazy woman at?”

“I’m here,” you called quietly from the kitchen, still staring down at your mixing bowl and devastated to break the news of Robin’s illness to the man who nearly had a heart attack when Robin had allergies last spring.

He came towards you, picking up in his step when he laid eyes on you.

You felt his lips latch onto your neck, and his chest pounding against your back as one hand squeezed your breast and the other desperately pawed at your crotch.

“Mmm,” he groaned against your skin, licking and sucking every inch of your neck and shoulder, exposed by the thin, frilly straps of your home-sewn sundress. “There’s that beautiful wife of mine.”

His sudden caressing elicited a surprised gasp from your lips, and although you wanted nothing more than to sink into his embrace and let him make love to you as he’d promised, you couldn’t even dream of doing so when your little girl was so sick.

Still, it took you a few moments to peel yourself from him, during which you closed your eyes and sighed at his displays of affection.

“Been thinkin’ about this all day,” he said between kisses. “Couldn’t go another second without ya, angel.”

You removed his hands from your sensitive areas and turned around in his arms to face him in the dimly lit kitchen.

He immediately turned to worry, noticing the all too familiar signs of anxiety haunting the face he loved so much.

“Hey,” he said, and raised his hand to hold your cheek. “What’s wrong? Somethin’ happen? Robin okay?”

You huffed and lowered your gaze, hating to see him become so stressed.

“Robin’s sick,” you said simply.

He swallowed hard. “Sick how?”

“Vomiting, cough, high fever, headache… Every bad thing. That… Dante guy said it’s only a stomach flu, but it’s bad. I—I think we might have to take her to the infirmary, Daryl. To stay overnight so Siddiq can keep an eye on her. I just don’t want to risk anything.”

He nodded slowly, and a million thoughts raced through his head. You swore you could see remnants of them as they passed, flashing in his crisp blue eyes.

He pulled your head close to kiss your forehead. “All right,” he said. “She asleep?”

You bit your thumbnail in worry. “Mhm… I made her soup, but she barely ate. I forced her to drink my elderberry tea but that only got the fever down for an hour or so. Siddiq will know what to do.”

“Yeah,” he said with a nod, trying to assure himself, too. “He will. Let’s get ‘er there… Hey,” he said, noticing your head lower in defeat, “she’s gonna be jus’ fine. Siddiq said she’s healthy as a horse at ‘er last checkup, remember? Just a bad bug, that’s all.”

He went upstairs to retrieve Robin, and came down slowly, watching his step as he carried her in his arms, still asleep and wrapped up in her green duvet, with her rabbit tucked in her arms.

You held the door for him, and led them down the street to the infirmary, where, to your surprise, quite a few other patients were staying overnight. Luckily, though, there were still beds open, and one right next to the window where a bird feeder had been placed. Perfect for Robin, who loved all animals, but had a special place in her heart for birds. Of course, she shared a name with one.

“Daddy,” she mumbled as she woke, her hand daintily rubbing her face as she blinked at her father. “Is that you?”

He laid her down gently in the bed, then unfurled her from her cocoon to cover her up again.

“It’s me, birdie. Daddy’s here.”

She looked around with sleepy eyes, and you noticed for the first time in the dim lamplight of the infirmary that her skin had gone a much paler shade than her usual light olive tint she inherited from Daryl.

“Where are we?”

“The infirmary,” you answered as you moved to the other side of the bed. “So Siddiq can make sure you’re getting better.”

Siddiq came into the room minutes later, and did a checkup of Robin, taking her temperature among other things.

“One-hundred and three,” he sighed. “You’ve definitely got a fever, red.” He’d called her red since she was a toddler, in reference to her initials, R.E.D. “Same symptoms as the others.” He gestured to the space around him, and the other patients resting in the infirmary beds. “Bad bug going around… You still have RJ at your place?”

“He’s staying with Aaron for now. Didn’t want to risk him catching it.”

“Good,” he said. “Well, not much we can do right now, just keep her hydrated and comfortable. I’ll have Dante keep an eye on her. You’re welcome to stay here, too. I’ve got to help Rosita with the baby.”

Rosita had fallen ill, as well, so Siddiq was responsible for taking care of Coco. He had a lot on his plate, so it made sense he’d leave Dante in charge, but you still didn’t like him, and, taking up Siddiq’s offer, both you and Daryl stayed by Robin’s bedside until morning.

He only left to smoke a cigarette or two, the homemade ones he’d started to roll several years ago. At least they weren’t entirely as bad as the Marlboros, or maybe they were worse, you weren’t really sure. All you knew was that he came back from his last cigarette that morning with yet another look of worry upon his tired face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, reading a book beside Robin as she slept like a rock.

“Carol’s up to somethin’,” he said. “Think she’s goin’ out to look for Alpha or somethin’.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, exasperated at what you knew he was going to say next.

“Go on,” you said. “Don’t let her make things worse.”

He nodded and he chewed the inside of his bottom lip, and you smiled softly at the old mannerism.

“Don’ wanna leave you and birdie,” he said, frowning at the sick girl.

“She’ll be fine,” you said with a nod of encouragement. “I’ll be fine. You go make sure she doesn’t do something stupid like last time she went outside the walls, and keep out of trouble.”

“I will. I’ll be back ‘fore it gets dark,” he said, and kissed you goodbye, then planted a gentle kiss to Robin’s hairline before strapping on his crossbow and pack and heading out to follow Carol.

Dog joined you in the infirmary, lapping up all the attention from the few other sick patients who sought refuge there, and standing dutifully by you and Robin as he always did when Daryl was gone.

The afternoon slipped by, and soon the beds began to fill up all around the infirmary with sick Alexandrians, all of whom you knew, since it was hard not to know everyone in the small community.

It was the worst sickness you’d seen in a long time, and it brought back horrible memories of the flu that had broken out back at the prison. You only hoped that it would turn out differently, and that it wouldn’t be the beginning of the end of peace.

Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs of any kind are always appreciated!

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rrickgrrimes8 · 3 years

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hi! i was thinking if you could write an imagine of reader being rick and lori's daughter and sister to carl, rj and judith. i don't have a specific idea in mind, but just her before and after the time jump, struggling with being there when lori and carl died, and looking for rick with daryl, her relationship with her siblings and michonne, maybe maggie and hershel too (i was thinking since carl was 10 when it all started, she was 7 so now she's 17) thank you so much, and btw i loved your imagines i've read so far 💞

Being a Grimes ~ Rick Grimes x Grimes!reader

thank you so much for requesting i really enjoyed making this one. i also have a series kinda like this about Jacey Grimes which i’m currently making a book two for.

warnings: alluding to sexual assault or rape, suicide, death, gore (lemme know if i’ve missed anything off here)

sorry if there is any mistakes please tell if there is and give me feedback i’d love to here back from yall

masterlist

request guidelines

request are open

It was strange for y/n. This world would be strange for anyone really. But she was different. At only a mere 7 years old when the world went to shit she struggled as did many others. With the recent loss of her father - one she didn't entirely understand - still protruding through her heart, it was hard - so hard.

When it happened she was at daycare. The teaching assistant tried and successfully ate the teacher in front of her. She was next and was so close to being eaten until Shane rushed in. He kicked Ms Twune and grabbed y/n. Her mom sobbed at the sight of her, covered in blood and the tears smothering her daughters face. Carl was shocked too. He wanted nothing more than to protect his little sister. His dad always used to tell him that that was his duty - his job. And he hated how he had failed in this moment.

They made it to the quarry soon after. Y/n thought the group was nice - well mostly. The Dixon brothers scared her was what she told her brother or any of the children she had befriended. But she was lying. Yes, she was scared but only of Merle. He was creepy and mean to anyone he saw. Daryl was somewhat the same but he always found himself being nicer to the young child. And often kept her company when Lori and Shane went for a ‘walk’ in the woods. Glenn was another she found herself drawn to. He unlike Daryl happily invited her company. Glenn was sweet and funny. He never failed at making her laugh till she felt like she was going to pee. They were good friends which came to a fault when he had to go on runs. She’d scream and cry and refuse to let go of him because she was afraid that what happened to her father would happen to him.

That’s what happened earlier that morning. Glenn and a few others were going into Atlanta, despite her dismay. Glenn assured her he’d be fine, which she didn't believe and continued her tantrum.

“Can yer’ shut that damn baby up?” Merle spat covering his ears.

Shane shot him a threatening glare while Glenn stayed preoccupied with the distraught girl. “Hey, it's okay. I’m coming back,” He insisted holding her tightly at his hip, “I promise you, sweet girl.”

“No, b-b-but dada promise too a-a-and h-he,” She stopped herself, sobs erupting from her small body.

“I know sweet girl, I know. But I’ll be back I know I will.” Glenn placed her on the back of the RV, “I tell you what I’ll bring you back some of your favourite sweeties, huh? Would you like that?”

Giddily she nodded at his proposition, “Yes! Yes!”

“Alright, then I’ll bring back some for you, okay?” She nodded smiling cheerfully, “I love you, kid.”

“I luv you too, dumbass,” y/n giggled.

Glenn looked around cautiously hoping no one heard that “Hey sweet girl you can't say that.”

“W-what? Why?” the child began to cry again, “Y-y-you say it.”

“I know b-but its adult words okay? Not y/n words. When you're older, alright?” She nodded her head again kissing his cheeks softly and hugging him. “Thank you, sweet girl. I’ll see you soon,” He kissed the top of her head and started towards the car smiling as she shouted, “With sweeties!”

The group returned hours later bearing a new man instead of Merle. Y/n waited patiently for Glenn and the aforementioned sweets. "Gen!" She screamed happily still unable to say his name fully. The man sprinted over to her, pulling her into a much-needed cuddle after the day he had.

"It's Glenn, sweetheart," He chuckled while correcting.

"Oh sorry Gen," She wrapped her dainty arms around his neck.

"That's okay, sweet girl. I missed you."

"I missed you too," She whispered before letting out a longwinded 'ew', "You stinky, Gen."

The man smelt his shirt and nodded as the potent smell of walkers reached his nose. "I know yucky right?"

"Yucky!" Y/n buried her face in Glenn's shirt ignoring the stench and just enjoying his company. She always became clingy like this after coming home from a run. He loved it. On runs, if he ever encountered a life-threatening situation - like the one today - he always finds himself realising how much she means to him. Glenn saw her as a little sister - one almost replacing the ones that were cruely ripped from him when this began.

"How was it?" She inquired.

"Not fun, sweet girl. But I got your sweeties and a nice man helped us out. Saved us," She beamed.

"I like the good man. I'll give him two kisses when I see him. Maybe even one of my sweeties," Glenn chuckled.

"Why two kisses, y/n?"

"One for saving you. Two for bringing you hom," Glenn grinned contently and kissed her forehead.

"Its home bubs with an e on the end."

"Oh," She mumbled burying herself again.

"Oh my God," Someone muttered as they exited the van.

"Dad! Dad!" Carl screamed causing Glenn to snap his head in their direction. Carl came running towards the man, Rick, who had saved them in Atlanta. Y/n hadn't moved yet as she feared it was only a dream. That her dada wasn't really here.

"Sweet girl," He pulled her out of his neck, "Look it's your dad." The child gazed over to where her brother had run to. Sure enough, it was her dad. He held Carl as he cried, looking to Y/n wanting to hold her too.

"Dada!" She screamed jumping out of Glenn's arms dangerously. The girl scraped her knee on the way down but continued throwing herself into the hug.

"Oh, Carl! Y/n!" She kissed all over his face childishly, "I luv you, dada."

"I love you too, baby girl."

The years hadn't been kind to Y/n. She lost so much. Too much in fact that it had driven her to the depts of insanity and made her do things to herself, to others that she more than resented. The first loss was her mothers. She wasn't there like Carl was but the grief burned through her still. Y/n was too young to understand it really. Just how she was when Rick supposedly died. Y/n couldn't understand where her mom had gone she just knew she had a little sister now. One she swore to protect.

She thought she had failed that when the prison fell. The young child was on her own. Injured and lost. She wandered through the woods for days until she stumbled across a group. The group were mean and despite her resistance wouldn't let her go. They hurt her in ways she didn't and wouldn't speak of it even now. But that all changed when Daryl showed up. He protected her - stopped them from hurting her. And eventually led her back to her family. Where for the first time she began to fear her father.

Terminus was next. The people there snatched her from her family. She was forced to watch from afar as they were guided into the crate. Rick fought against them, Carl too but it was to no use. They had sectioned her off in a playroom. Every once in a while an older woman came in to fed and played with her. She hated it. Being in this world for more than a year now she knew that people like them didn't just want to play even if she did. She learnt that from the Claimers.

Carol found her. Although having never have been all that close to the older woman - the only relation being the closeness between y/n and Sophia - seeing her after so long made her cry out of joy. Carol was happy too as she rushed out of that place to take her to safety. The pair ended up in the woods. Carol had stopped a moment ago to clean the dirt from her face, "lemme help."

The girl sat up from where she was put down and cupped some water splashing it on Carol's face. Carol flinched as the water hit her, "Uh thank you."

"Welcome," She looked away getting distracted by the nearing sound of footsteps.

"Get behind me, y/n," Carol ordered to which she shook her head.

"No it dada," She ran away from the woman and towards the group.

"Y/n come back here!" Y/n continued ignoring Carols pleas and crashed herself into the back of Rick's legs.

The father shot around and began to cry as he saw the child he thought he lost at his feet. "Oh, baby!" He collected the girl in his arms. Carl rushed to them too happy to see her alive after Gareth claimed he killed her. "Oh y/n, never leave me again, okay?" He looked directly into her matching blue eyes, "Promise me."

"I promise, dada."

Later Carol led them to Judith. Y/n was over the moon and refused to let her out of her sight, which was exactly what Rick was doing too. They found the church a while after. There they had some semblance of peace. She was glad to have Glenn back - Maggie too. Along with the new people although Eugene was a bit weird.

At the church was also when the questions started. Daryl had told Rick about the group they were with and regretfully had to inform the father how she was there before him. Rick asked y/n - begged her - to tell her what happened. But she refused. She couldn't say what happened. What they did, which just made Rick fear more. Eventually, she spoke a little about it. She was vague and could barely string two words together without crying. He hated it. He hated how this was a reality for his daughter. He saw the bruises they left. And he couldn't understand how someone could touch his child. Or how he could be so powerless to stop it.

Bob died. She didn't really know the man but it still upset her. Beth too. Although she was a lot closer to her. Beth was one of her only friends and was someone who would look after her when her father couldn't. They bonded and now she was gone.

After Beth's demise, they spent lots of time on the road. They suffered, almost died countless times but they prevailed. They got stronger - she got stronger. And they eventually found Alexandria. There everything was good again like how it was at the prison or even before this hell. She liked it there and didn't understand why the others were so sceptical.

Though that didn't last for long. Y/n began to hate the place when Carl got shot. Alexandria almost stole her brother from her. So she despised it. She refused to leave her brother's side as he adjusted to his injury. Yes, he found it annoying how she wouldn't leave him be and he often snapped at her. But she was there when he needed her. Despite the age difference and the many years of memories they had lost to this fight, she understood his pain. When he saw himself as ugly, a monster even, she made him think otherwise. She kept him afloat, which he was eternally thankful for.

Glenn was next.

She didn't believe it even after she was forced to see it with her own two eyes. She was next to Glenn in the lineup. She had to watch up close. Y/n had to be mocked by that man. She had to stay the whole night with her best friends brains on her face. After that night she blamed herself. She told herself that if Negan was just one person off she would be dead and he would live. He would get to see his child born and grow old with Maggie like they had spoken about. She wholeheartedly believed he deserved to live over her.

The war with Negan shook her to the core. At the time his face filled her nightmares. He just looked so normal. He looked nice even. Yet he hurt and he hurt and he hurt.

He killed her Glenn. And then Carl. It wasn't Negans fault although she did blame him. Carl had gotten bit. Y/n held his hand as he died in that tunnel as the home they had built above them fell. She got a letter too - even though she would rather have preferred to have her brother back. In the letter, Carl told her how proud he was of her - how thankful he was to have her as a sister. He told her to protect Judith, their dad and Michonne, who she had recently begun to call momma.

After Carl's death, y/n shut herself from the world well everyone except her father. For days she would cry until she couldn't anymore. She would scream and scream until her voice was gone. She just didn't understand why it had to be Carl? Why mom? Why Glenn? Why Beth? Why was it never her? The following weeks she found herself wishing it would be her next. She could never bring herself to say it out loud but with any battle, any fight, anything, she wished it would be her.

So when she lost her father her whole world fell apart. He was her consistent so why did he leave her? She was at the bridge that day. Daryl held her crying frame as Rick set off that final shot blowing him and the walkers off the bridge. Y/n Grimes' father was dead.

She stayed in Alexandria for a while afterwards. For the sole reason to protect her siblings. Yes, siblings - plural. Somehow through all the bad some good came from it. She just wished her father and Carl could've seen it. RJ Grimes came into this world 9 months later. And he was perfect. For months she would assist in taking care of him as Michonne wasn't doing the greatest without the love of her life. Truth be told neither was y/n she was just better at hiding it.

Until one night it all became too much. Y/n didn't know how it happened but she found herself balancing on the edge of her window. She wanted to jump - to end it. But she just couldn't will herself to do it. And when Daryl showed up she knew she couldn't. "Hey step away from ta window, alrigh'," The man ordered as he saw her shaking frame rocking back and forth.

"I-i can't," She sobbed.

"Ye' ya can. Jus' step back I'll catch ya," Daryl moved closer but paused when she shouted to stop.

"I can't, Daryl. They're all gone. They're all dead," The tears clouded her eyes. She shut them tightly picturing her families faces wanting so badly to join them.

"Please jus' step back, y/n. Yer' not alone. I'm here," He croaked the tears floating down his cheeks, "Don't jump."

"I love you, Daryl."

"I love ya too, okay? So step away from the window," He watched as she turned her head slightly catching his eyes.

"I love you but I can't. Tell mom, RJ and Judy I love them as well."

Suddenly she went to fall forward but Daryl reacted quicker. He gripped her waist pulling her into the room unwilling to release his grasp. "Yer' not leaving me," He told her as she cried into his shoulder, "Yer' cant leave me." Overhearing the chaos, Michonne entered her daughter's room to see the window wide open and the two of them crying. Daryl looked at her. The look telling her all she needed to know. Michonne began to cry herself and joined them on the ground.

"Y/n?" A small voice called from the door frame.

"Judith go back to bed, okay?" Michonne told her but Judith continued towards her sister. The girl said nothing as she wiped her sister's tears and held her hand.

It was 5 years later now. After her attempt, she left Alexandria with Daryl in search of her father. She didn't believe he was alive despite everything inside her wanting to. But Daryl did and after what happened they became a lot closer. He was happy she joined him. Even though the act of being out there was gruelling at times he was glad he could look after her. And if something would've happened to her while he was gone he could never have forgiven himself. Understandably Michonne was angry that y/n decided to leave. Y/n was her daughter and Michone her mother. They needed each other but she was willing to let Y/n leave to figure that out. It brought her peace looking for her father.

The silence was her favourite and as Daryl wasn't much of a talker she got lots of it. They got a dog too, which Daryl cleverly named Dog. Everything was a messed up version of okay but it was still good. Being out there made her find her purpose. She went home a lot more than Daryl did, which pleased her siblings and mother. It was always for a few days never longer as she feared she'd stay forever and she couldn't. As much as Alexandria is good it also drives y/n to a dark place. One she was in that night. She lost so much there. And staring at those four walls drove her insane. It didn't help how Negan was imprisoned there. Just thinking how close he was made her skin crawl. She knew how Rick visited him when he was alive that he believed Carl was right about the killing. That it had to stop. Y/n knew he was right too but she could never bring herself to one admit or two face Negan.

It felt like a story she read as a child when the Whisperers showed up. Like Negan, they scared her. So when she was told about his escape she only assumed the worst. The Whisperers took so many from them. Like Enid for example. Her story was cut short because of them. The two never really spoke but she understood how she and Carl felt for each other at a time. So ultimately it felt like she lost her final piece of Carl when she died. Y/n wished she had spoken to her when she could've. She wished she could've heard the untold stories they shared. She needed to know about Carl's final years with her. But now she's gone too along with those memories.

The war with the Whisperers took everything from them. The Kingdom. Hilltop. Alexandria. Along with the lives they lost in the process. With the group separated she found herself protecting Judy and RJ. Michonne had gone. Where she had gone to, y/n had no idea. For a messed up reason, she began to prepare herself for her mother's death before it was even announced. That was until she got the call. She was okay and... apparently so was Rick.

Disbelief was what hit her first. She couldn't hear his voice nor see his face so how could she know it was true. Michonne didn't know either she couldn't if he was really there, still alive. That night of the call she left. Without hesitation, she kissed RJ and Judith's heads, told them she loved them and told them to tell everyone else that and left. She left in the direction Michonne had told her.

She left to find her father. And she knew she wouldn't return until she did. "I'm coming, dad."

#the walking dead imagine #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes x grimes!reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes imagine #carl grimes x grimes!reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #michonne x reader #michonne x daughter!reader #rick grimes #carl grimes #daryl dixon #michonne #rick grimes daughter #the walking dead request

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persephone-plasmids · 3 years

Text

Nuka-World

A Deacon X Sole Fanfic

[AO3]

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Nuka-World

“I guess I’m just confused about why they dedicated an entire section of the park to their space theme. Why not just a ride?” MacCready asked, eyeing the Star Port tower in the Galactic Zone at Nuka-World.

“To get the youth excited about space exploration,” Danse answered in his usual serious tone. “They wanted to recruit potential cadets young.”

MacCready pulled a face at this explanation. “Do kids really like space, though?”

“Seriously, MacCready?” Sole asked. “You have a kid. You should know this.”

Deacon listened to the group theorizing over the chosen aesthetic of Nuka-World while he slid a Cappy shirt over his head with a grin.

“I know Dez sent us here to recover the kidnapped synth, but all this free merch is going to be incredibly distracting,” Deacon said.

At his words, Sole’s eyes grew large. “Where did you get that? I want one!”

Deacon nodded to the merchandise rack behind him and smiled as Sole scampered over with pure joy in her eyes. Danse watched with slight disapproval while MacCready continued examining the Star Port in confusion.

Bringing the tin can and the grumpy sniper along hadn’t been Deacon’s idea. Dez had said they’d need more than just Deacon and Sole on this mission since they had so much ground to cover. When Deacon had suggested Tinker Tom, Dez had just laughed and told Sole to ask some of “her people”. Whatever that meant.

Apparently, Sole’s “people” were a self-hating synth boy scout and MacCready, whose skill Deacon respected, but he still didn’t like the idea of someone honing in on his mission.

“This entire park seems wildly unsafe for children,” Danse said, his thick brows knitted together in a line.

“Nuka Cola has always been a bit shady,” MacCready agreed. “Makes sense that their park wouldn’t be quite as kid-friendly as it should be.”

“All right, I’m ready to get this show on the road,” Sole said, walking out from the back room of the merchandise area with a Cappy shirt and cowboy hat.

“No fair! I didn’t see the hat!” Deacon whined. “I would have taken it for myself.”

“We can share custody,” Sole promised with a grin in Deacon’s direction.

Deacon screwed up his face as he thought this over. “Fine, but I get weekends and holidays.”

“Deal.” Sole gave him one of her smiles that reminded him why he needed to keep his distance from her emotionally. One of the smiles that made him want all the things he couldn’t have.

He ignored it.

“You’re both wrong,” MacCready said, snatching the hat quickly from Sole’s head and placing it on his own. “This baby’s coming with me.”

Sole laughed at this, making Deacon feel that familiar pang of jealousy again. He prided himself on making Sole laugh. He didn’t love that someone else was currently taking over his favorite job.

“You two are going to Dry Rock Gulch, I guess it’s only fair that you get the cowboy hat, RJ,” Sole said, straightening the hat on MacCready’s head with a familiarity that made Deacon feel much less in control of himself than he normally was.

“We should get going before it gets too dark,” Deacon said with a forced smile. “We don’t want Danse rusting from the evening dew.”

“Negative, soldier, “ Danse said. “My power armour doesn’t rust.”

“At ease,” Deacon responded with a little salute at the former Brotherhood of Steel Paladin. “Try to enjoy yourself a little Danse. Despite what they told you in the Brotherhood, it won’t actually kill you.”

Danse gave him a look like he wasn’t amused by his joke before turning away and heading towards Dry Rock Gulch with MacCready.

“Geez,” Deacon said. “Never send that guy on a stealth mission. I swear we’ll be able to hear his power armor clomping around through the whole park.”

“Well then I guess it’s a good thing we already cleared out those raiders, huh?”

“No thanks to the tin can and grumpy pants over there,” Deacon said, now smiling at Sole.

“That one was a Deacon and Sole special,” Sole answered. “We didn’t need any outside assistance.”

Deacon nodded at this, watching Sole for a moment too long before realizing he was being weird. He realized that a lot around Sole. He had to constantly remind himself how he acted around people who didn’t make him feel the way Sole did. It was exhausting.

“I say we head over to that old junkyard. If I was a Synth in hiding, that’s where I’d go,” Sole said.

“You got it, boss,” Deacon answered, following her as she began walking.

The two walked in silence for a long time. Deacon guessed that Sole was thinking about the mission. Deacon, of course, was having another mini existential crisis regarding Sole. But he was also attempting to lie to himself about his feelings, which turned it into a whole thing. He could be a very convincing liar.

When the two rounded an old abandoned building, Deacon was shocked to see a crowd right in front of them.

“Whoa, hold up,” Deacon said, placing his arm straight out to stop Sole from walking.

It was too little too late though. The group of people in space suits standing had clearly seen them. How had Deacon missed them? They were literally a handful of weirdos in space suits.

Sole had distracted him with her very existence again. This was why he had to stop letting himself explore any potential feelings for her. They just got in the way of their missions. They made him sloppy. And sloppy could very well mean “dead” in this situation.

“Greetings,” one of the space-suit-clad people said, taking a step forward.

Deacon placed one hand behind his back where he kept a gun tucked in the waistband of his jeans. The other hand was wrapped tightly around Sole’s arm, keeping her in a safe position slightly behind him.

“Listen, we’re looking for information on--” Sole began, but the woman who appeared to be the leader of the odd group before them interrupted her.

“Are you here to help us get the spaceship up and running?” the woman asked. Her slightly crazed eyes were wide and bloodshot.

Sole furrowed her brow and looked at Deacon who was still trying to understand what he’d just heard.

“The great power above told us they would send someone soon. You, my weary traveler, must be the one to help us rebuild our spacecraft.”

“No,” Sole said slowly. “We’re just here too--” but again she was interrupted, this time by Deacon’s hand placed clumsily over her lips.

“Wait just… shush for a second,” he whispered with the widest grin she’d ever seen. “This is amazing.” He looked like a kid on Christmas. “Yes, my fair… uh… lady. We were sent from the head honcho in the stars to come offer our support for your interstellar travels.”

Deacon’s voice had adopted a grand tone and he released his concealed gun to instead gesture widely at the group in front of him.

“Excellent news, kind sir,” the woman said. “I am Dara. Come. We don’t have much time. Follow us.”

“Lead the way my most excellent and esteemed priestess,” Deacon said.

Sole looked over at the spy incredulously, mouthing a quick, “What are you doing?” to him.

She wasn’t sure if Deacon hadn’t understood her question or if he was just willfully ignoring her, because he simply clapped his hands together and mouthed back, “I know, right?”

The space-suit-clad group led them through the old junkyard to a red metal object that looked an awful lot like an old carnival ride. It was supposed to look like a UFO, but anyone could see it wasn’t any kind of actual aircraft.

“Ah yes, a fine specimen indeed,” Deacon said when they approached the ride. His voice was still serious as he spoke, though Sole knew him well enough to hear the pure glee behind it. “And what, pray tell, can we do to get this up and running for you again?”

“We have the fusion cells we need right here,” Dara said. “But we don’t know how to install them. If you can get our craft up and running, I know we’ll be on our way to our higher forms soon enough.”

“You’ll be on your way somewhere,” Sole scoffed under her breath, obviously not enjoying this nearly as much as Deacon.

“Well then step inside and get comfortable,” Deacon said with a grin. “I’ll get these fusion cores installed… uh… posthaste.”

Sole snorted at this, to which Deacon elbowed her. He didn’t want her giving him away just because she found him amusing.

Dara led the group of space cadets into the UFO ride and shut the door behind her, leaving Sole and Deacon alone.

“Okay, what in the actual world is going on?” Sole asked incredulously.

“I know! This is seriously amazing,” Deacon said, barely able to contain his joy. “These people actually think this is a spaceship!”

“I’m pretty sure this is a Gravitron,” Sole said. “They had them at the local carnival every year before the war. I used to love this ride.”

Sole’s eyes adopted that distant look they got whenever she talked about her time before the Vault-Tec incident. It made him feel sad for her, before he selfishly realized that if Vault-Tec hadn’t frozen her, he never would have met her.

“Will it be safe for me to fix it for them?” Deacon asked, Sole. He wanted to mess with the space cult, not kill them.

“They might get a bit motion sick,” Sole began. “But they should be fine.”

At her words, Deacon’s face adopted a mischievous grin that made Sole’s cheeks flush. “Excellent.”

Deacon installed the fusion cores Dara had given him without much effort before holding his hand out to Sole.

“Shall we?”

Sole let a grin spread across her full lips, taking Deacon’s hand in her own. “I can handle this ride, but I’m not sure you really understand what you’re in for.”

“You don’t think I could handle your ride?” Deacon asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively at her.

Sole took a step closer to Deacon, leaning close to him so that her lips were against his ear. “I know you couldn’t handle my ride, stealth boy.”

Deacon shivered involuntarily at her words and the feeling of her breath against his ear, but as quickly as the moment had happened, it passed. Sole pulled Deacon into the UFO ride with her, leaving him with a lingering mental image that he’d have to examine more thoroughly when he was alone later.

“This impeccably dressed harbinger of your more superior forms has successfully repaired your vessel,” Sole announced loudly, holding up Deacon’s hand. She looked over at him with a grin that set his heart on overdrive. “Not only was he able to repair your vessel, but he’s also promised to personally make sure his work is beyond reproach by coming along with you.”

“The star angel speaks the truth,” Deacon said, making Sole snort laugh again, though she was a bit better about covering this one up. “Sole, if you’ll do the honors.”

“Everybody up against the wall,” Sole said, watching as the space cult obeyed. “Deacon? Up against the wall?”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to say that to me,” He said with a grin.

Sole just rolled her eyes and pointed at the wall, waiting for him to oblige. When everyone was in position, she took her place in the middle of the metal room and flipped the switch.

In an instant, the ride began to hum as the floor started to vibrate. At first, nothing moved and Deacon worried he hadn’t actually managed to fix the ride. But as the humming grew louder, the room began to spin.

Sole stayed in place in the center of the room and Deacon tried to keep his eyes on her, but as the rotations became quicker and quicker, he had to close his eyes. The force of the rotating ride crushed him against the padded wall of the room and he had to press his lips together to keep from getting sick. Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, the ride began to slow down until it eventually stopped.

When Deacon opened his eyes, the world was still spinning. Sole was watching him as if waiting for him to speak to the cult, but he couldn’t form a single thought.

“The mission has been a success,” Sole finally said, seeing that Deacon was completely useless at the moment. “Your craft has been repaired and will be ready for your final voyage once your preparations are complete.”

“Bless you,” Dara said, looking at Sole. “Bless both of you.”

Without another word, Dara and the other cultists left the UFO, leaving Deacon clutching the wall and breathing heavily. In an instant, Sole was beside him. She supported him as Deacon tilted his head down.

“Told you you couldn’t handle this ride,” Sole said, her voice lined with amusement.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Deacon said. “I feel fantastic. Think I might go run a marathon with Hancock later.”

Sole placed her hand on Deacon’s cheek gently, lifting his eyes to hers. He still felt sick, but the more she touched him, the less he seemed to notice the motion sickness.

“Hey lightweight, what do you think Danse and MacCready will say when they find out an old carnival ride floored you?”

“That question is irrelevant because if you tell them I’ll just deny everything,” he responded. “And of the two of us, who’s the better liar?”

Deacon was grinning at Sole again, but she didn’t smile back. Instead she was watching him curiously, her eyes roaming his face. He was confused by her expression before he realized just how clear she looked to him. Clearer than normal.

Panicked, Deacon brought his hand up to his face to find his sunglasses missing. He’d always been good at putting up walls between himself and everyone else, but he had a hard time doing that with Sole. The sunglasses were the only way he could keep some semblance of distance from her. Without them, he worried she’d see right through him. See who he really was. See how he really felt about her.

Deacon looked around himself for the sunglasses before Sole held them up wordlessly.

“You win, Charmer,” Deacon said with a nervous laugh. “Time to give them back now.”

Deacon reached out for the glasses but Sole held them behind her back with a wicked grin.

“I don’t know that I want you to put them back on. I’m enjoying finally seeing you,” she said, her eyes seeming to bore into his soul.

“No one wants to see this hot mess, trust me,” Deacon said, reaching for the sunglasses but failing to get them. All he managed to do was somehow get even closer to Sole.

“How did I not realize your eyes are blue?” Sole asked, her voice soft. “They’re… stunning.” She instantly blushed at her own words but didn’t back down. And she still didn’t give Deacon his sunglasses back. “They’re not just blue… they’re like… ice blue.”

“Must be all the surgery,” Deacon joked, even though his voice sounded flat.

The truth was, Deacon changed his appearance all the time. But his eyes? His eyes were his own. Always had been. They were the one thing he didn’t change about himself. So to have Sole admiring them in such a personal way felt… amazing.

And dangerous.

Sole bit her lip as she watched him and Deacon swallowed hard. “Why don’t you want anyone to see you?” she asked.

He wanted to tell her that he was scared they wouldn't like what was left after all the lies were stripped away. But he didn’t say that. Instead he said, “Because I don’t want them to fall in love with my beautiful face. It just wouldn’t be fair to destroy some unsuspecting wastelander like that.”

At his words, Sole laughed softly, just like he hoped she would. If she was laughing then she wasn’t asking him questions that hit too close to home for him.

“I mean, now that you’ve seen the full effect of my icy blue gaze, you surely must understand that I wield an ungodly amount of power.”

“I really don’t know how you manage to fit yourself and your ego into your tiny sleeping quarters in the Railroad,” Sole said with a roll of her eyes.

“There’s enough room,” Deacon said, his voice now teasing. “More than enough room if you ever want to join the two of us.”

And that was it. The truth of the matter. Deacon could flirt with Sole all day long if it was all a big joke. But if he ever told her that he’d dreamed about what it would be like to wake up next to her, he’d lose the small amount of control he still pretended to have in this partnership. He couldn’t tell her that he longed for the casual and familiar touches of two people who trusted each other so completely that their physical contact was expected and normal.

“Do you really want me to take you up on that offer?” Sole asked, a challenge in her eyes.

Deacon still hadn’t learned that he couldn’t tease her about their flirtation for too long. She’d always make it real. And as Deacon knew, real was dangerous.

“Or should I just hold onto these sunglasses for you?”

Deacon leaned forward, sliding his arms around Sole’s waist. He hated himself for the fact that she actually closed her eyes as he got closer to her, obviously expecting him to make a move. But instead, he grabbed the sunglasses that she hid behind her back before pulling away from her with a forced grin.

“Got em,” he said.

Sole opened her eyes, and when Deacon saw just how much disappointment they held, his heart broke. When he heard Sole try to cover up her disappointment with a joke the way he always did, his heart broke even more.

“Well then I guess it’s just you and your ego in your bed tonight,” she said. “Let’s go find Danse and MacCready to see if they’ve had any luck locating the Synth.”

“Oh right, we’ve got an actual reason to be here,” Deacon said, quickly putting his sunglasses back on and feeling immensely more comfortable behind his wall of protection.

“We actually have two reasons to be here,” Sole said as she walked towards the door of the UFO ride. “We need to find the Synth, but we also need to go to the fun house in Kiddie Kingdom.”

“Did I miss that part of the briefing, Charmer?” Deacon asked, following Sole to the bright junkyard outside.

“Dez probably just forgot to tell us how important it is that we go to the funhouse,” Sole said “But you and I are professionals. We have to check everything thoroughly.”

Sole raised her eyebrows at Deacon as she walked away and Deacon was left wondering how Dez ever could have thought it was a good idea to send Sole and himself to an amusement park together.

They’d never get anything done.

[Part 4]

Based on the time my OC and Deacon ran into that crazy cult in Nuka-World :P

#fo4 #fallout #fallout 4 #deacon #fallout deacon #sole survivor #deacon x sole #deacon x sole survivor #fo4 fanfic #fallout fanfic #fallout 4 fanfic #fanfic #deacon fanfic

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earthboundscenarios · 3 years

Text

♥ High school ♥

sc plot : 4 new students, attractive point of views

wc : 1694

add-on : basically you in my life without the kids from earthbound

Play song while reading for best experience!

Enjoy!

I sighed as I clutched my backpack. Another boring day

Is life always gonna be this boring?

I hopped off the school bus and made my way towards the giant public school with the crowd

" Where do you want me to set this Ms. Mills? " I looked over to my calculus teacher and she pointed towards her front desk. I nodded and got up. Earning a few snickers from the girls in the back.

" Put some pants on, girl. "

Maria said sarcastically.

I laughed.

I was wearing my favorite oversized black sweater on top of my shorts which aren't buttshorts. I hated the girls in the back.

Fucking assholes.

I heard some new students were coming today. I looked over to my best friend Neila , the desk beside mine. She just gave me a shrug and went back to work. I sighed and made my way to the front of the room, feeling some eyes on me, I dropped the work on Ms. Mills' s desk and returned to my desk at the corner of the room, leaning against the wall facing the whole class from the side.

I heard a scoff beside me so I turned. One of my friends named

had the desk in front of me, and held up his assignment in my face. 95%. I pushed it away and he looked at me with a smug grin. " What'd you get? " He asked with a mix of curiosity and assholism in his voice. I rolled my eyes, smiled, and pulled out my sketchbook. I opened it and looked at my anime sketches trying to ignore RJ laughing before turning back to the side of the room and return talking to his other friend Riley.

After a few minutes , I leant over my desk and tapped on RJ's shoulder. He turned halfway and replied with a half piercing glare in the corner of his eyes. I gasped exaggeratedly which made him turn all the way around facing me with a ' Really? How lame ' look. This time it was my turn to shove something in his face.

My sketchbook.

He grabbed it without actually looking at what was on the page and was about to get up and throw it out into the trash but as he was getting up

" Please RJ, please please please I'm serious just this onceeeee. " I said startling him and after a minute he sighed and mumbled something under his breath and sat back down bringing the sketchbook up near his face so he can actually examine it.

" What the fuck is this? " He looked up at me with the most pissed off look ever.

I grinned devilishly at him and pointed to the page that was being revealed. " You, getting bombed and shot by some mini guns in your favorite game warzone. Like it? " I asked raising my brows like a idiot trying to be funny.

He sighed, face palmed, set my sketchbook back on my desk and turned around pretending I didn't even exist.

Wow thanks, I mouthed and laughed to myself. Neila looked at me with a thumbs up and mouthed, "draw me and garmadon". Which made me nod historically thinking about the movie of her fictional 174 year old husbando from Ninjago.

Suddenly the door was met with a knock which caused some of us to be at ease and started instantly whisper-chatting as this gave us a chance to, while the teacher would go to the door and open it, expecting it to be a kid or a teacher I sighed and relaxed in my chair a little more putting one of my airpods in my ear again and hit play, starting to play my favorite playlist. The teacher did certainly open the door and I was correct.

Or was I

The teacher turned back to us,

" Alright everyone, these are going to be our new students. "

Everyone's attention glided back to the teacher and the door that was slightly opened.

4 kids walked in after a moment or two. 3 boys and 1 girl. They looked completely different then what I had pictured. The 3 guys looked very different compared to each other aswell. One was dressed very nice, another very casual, and one... genie styled...? The girl dressed very pretty though. Definitely got all the boys attention too. Some people snickered. Guessing it was the girls.

Assholes.

" Please introduce yourselves to the class " Ms. Mills nodded to the group of kids. The kid in the blue and red baseball cap looked really excited to, while the girl looked quite shy, so did the kid in the nerdish glasses, but the guy in the white robe looked very chill.

" Heyo! I'm Ness. A pleasure to be here! "

Ness said tilting his cap sideways like, as if he's greeting someone, which looked really cute.

I did hear some girls kya in the back. But I ignored them.

Ness was 5"8. He had black and short messy hair above it was a red and blue cap with a pin, he also wore a red and white high school sports like jacket, assuming that it was the schools jacket he went to before he came here, and underneath it was a blue and yellow shirt. A nice and tidy pair of jeans, white socks tucked in and his sport like jacket was matching with his sport like red and white shoes. He looked very casual but manly.

All this time I was thinking, he was scanning the room while some people asked some questions. But what I didn't notice is that he eventually laid his eyes on me. I felt my face heat up in a few seconds. He grinned at me widely.

He looks Fun.

Once Ness looked back to the class and finished answering some other random questions, he stepped aside and the next one stepped up,

The girl was up next.

" H-Hi! My name is Paula! I hope that we can all get along! " Paula exclaimed with a small curtsy holding the tips of each end of her skirt like dress. Some boys laughed and stared at her recent antics. Their was a audible whistle in the background which caused Paula to squirm a bit with her hands and shuffle her feet around. But people just laughed it off. Jeez, the pressure here.

Paula was 5"4. She had blueberry blue eyes, vibrant blonde hair, bangs that went to her eyebrows, her hair was wavy and tied in a long ponytail with a small red bow. She also had makeup on, not too much, just a bright red lipstick and mascara. She also wore a white turtle neck and over top was a strapped pink dress but the length was like a skirt. It also had a tiny teddy bear icon on it at the bottom. She wore knee high white socks and red low heels.

She nodded her head and then she quickly looked away and hid behind Ness, he obviously laughed, causing her to hide her eyes behind her bangs and a small but noticeable blushed crept on her face which was very cute. She looks adorable.

She peeked over his shoulder and watched as the next one stepped up.

The nerdish boy.

He stepped up very awkwardly which was hilariously cute.

" Uh, Hi. I'm Jeff... I u-uh.. like guns? " This caused the whole room to go quiet which turned to loud laughter erupting from everyone's mouths. I looked over to Neila , she looked like she felt bad for the poor guy. Then to Rj, who was laughing with the rest of them. I felt bad for Jeff

Jeff was 5"7. He wore his hair nice and neatly placed, he had a slightly visible mustache, his eyes covered by his glasses. He wore a long white collar top and over it a green woolen tank top sweater, a nice red bow aswell but placed in the middle of where the collar parts. He had navy blue jeans around his waist that held up tight with a plain black belt and brown classic shoes. He also had pink and blue socks you assumed his mother forced him to wear. He also had a brown backpack around his shoulders. In back which looked like a satellite.

Cool

He looked very shy but it was cute

Now it was the genies turn

He looked very chill, he lightly placed a hand on Jeff's right shoulder as if he was there to support him and they both nodded. Jeff shuffled behind the genie man and the genie man stepped up.

Hands was placed in his pockets he looked up to the classroom with a unreadable expression. The classroom was very quiet at times like these. Then he had a polite smile plastered on his face. " G'day to you all, The Name is Poo. "

was all Poo said with a nod and kept his mouth shut as if he didn't care. Some snickered at his name. Although his smile was still set on his face he didn't really care for it,

he was trying to be as polite as possible.

Poo was 6"1. He had jet black colored eyes, a slightly visible mustache like Jeff, and a tied mini black beard at the bottom of his chin. His hair was shaved off though it was a buzz cut and he had some hair in the front popping out and a tied ponytail in the back. He also had a single hoop on his left ear. He wore a sleeveless like, white body suit, type of robe and a black belt around it. He wore blue big but thin wristbands and white socks with black genie like shoes.

I smiled in enthusiasm which he had noticed and nodded to me before stepping back to join the others. He looks sexy.

I shook my head at those thoughts. Maybe I can go talk to them later I thought and smiled to myself before looking back to my sketchbook.

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starksinner · 4 years

Text

See You Tomorrow

Summary: Judith wonders why you and Daryl aren’t together.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Slight Angst

“I saw Uncle Daryl this morning,” Judith reported. She sat patiently on the edge of the kitchen island, fiddling with the hem of her shirt as you braided her long, brown hair.

“Yeah? What was he doin’?”

Michonne was out of the house with RJ, picking up vegetables from the crop field across the street. You’d offered her a hand that morning, seeing her struggle taking care of two kids and handling the hassle of the upcoming Alexandria council meeting.

“He was cleaning his bike and talking to Aaron,” she grinned. Uh-oh. She turned her head to the side and shot you a knowing look. “I heard him talkin’ about you.”

“Bout’ me? What’s he sayin’?”

You weren’t embarrassed to admit that a smartass, eight-year old was one of your closest confidants. She had been since she turned about four. You’d take gossiping in the kitchen with Judith over arguing with the apocalypse-turned-botanists over what seeds to plant, any day.

“It was somethin’ about how amazing and pretty you are! It was along those lines, for sure!”

You quickly put an elastic band over the end of her braid, giving it a little tug. “He definitely ain’t lying. I am —for sure— all of those things and more.”

“I still don’t understand why you aren’t together!” She was pouting now and using that really high-pitched voice that truly made you feel her agony. “You love each other and it’s obvious! It’s almost annoying!”

“Well, nothin’s more annoyin’ than Daryl.” You placed your hand against your hip, taking in a short breath. “Jude, I’ve known that man for a shittin’ long time. Nothing happened then, nothing’s happenin’ now. I think it’s time you find me another bachelor —or bachelorette— to seduce.”

Judith huffed childishly as you began cleaning up the kitchen, gathering the strands of broken hair from her brush and throwing them in the trash. You quickly stopped in your tracks and swiftly found her gaze, your eyes widening. “Also, please do not tell your mother I said ‘shittin’’ in front of you. It wouldn’t end well for me.”

---

“God, when’s the last time you showered?”

Daryl grunted in response as you took a seat next to him by the fire pit, a bottle of shitty red wine in your hand. As you brought the bottle up to your lips, you watched carefully as he continued sharpening and shaping the end of a stick with his knife.

“I ain’t smell or nothin’,” he defended, giving you a short look.

You grinned naughtily, admiring the way the moonlight glowed over his calloused fingers and skin as he worked. “You are lookin’ a little disgruntled and dirty, though. Want me to wash ya?”

“Shut up,” Daryl scoffed, shaking his head exasperatedly. You felt a sudden twang of pride as you caught the small smile that ghosted across his face.

“Judith said she heard you talkin’ about me today.” You brushed your boot against the ground, feeling the stones grind against your worn out soles. “Was very interestin’ stuff.”

“Yeah?” He stopped sharpening the stick in his hands, eyeing you warily. “What’d I say?”

You wrinkled your nose amusingly in thought, resting your chin against the top of the wine bottle. “Something about how amazin’ and pretty I am. ‘Somethin’ along those lines,’ as she put it. I ever tell you you’re such a romantic?”

Daryl only responded with a smile. The silence was comfortable, a silence between two long-time friends. You both enjoyed the warmth of companionship, rather than the noise of chattering or inconvenient truths. You sipped on her wine and basked in the night’s breeze hitting your face. He fiddled with the knife in his hands, huffing as he caught his reflection in the blade.

His voice was soft and quiet as he spoke. "You know I love ya.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle shortly, your gaze wandering to the houses off in the distance. "That's not a good joke."

"Ya should know I’on't joke."

You pressed your teeth into your bottom lip, shaking your head unbelievably. Neither of you met each other’s eyes. “I know you don’t.” You let out a cool breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Are we ever going to let ourselves be happy?”

Daryl sat silently, letting the echo of your voice sit in the air. It lingered, thick and heavy, like a blanket. That fleeting feeling followed, always watching never fading. It was completely wedged between the both of you.

You gave him a sad smile and placed your hand on top of his. Your eyes finally met. “I love ya, too.” You got up with a huff and brushed your hands against the denim of your jeans, wiping away the dirt. “I’ll see ya tomorrow, yeah?”

Daryl gave you a stoic look and nodded. He brought his attention back to his knife, gripping the handle tightly. “See ya tomorrow.”

---

✩ thanks for reading <3 ✩

✩ masterlist ✩ buy me a coffee ✩

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x you #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x oc #daryl dixon imagines #daryl #judith grimes #twd reader insert #twd #twd fanfiction

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iamvegorott · 3 years

Text

A New Life Ch. 9

Work Chaos

Yancy stuck to Illinois’ side as they followed Wilford into a very large room, the door opening to the sights and sounds of organized chaos;

The room only had a long table and a few couches as furniture, the decor was just different kinds of maps and marked clocks on the walls, showing the layout and times of everywhere in the world.

Wilford made his way over to one end of the table where JJ, Yandere, Bim, Jackie, and Chase were at. Wilford gave JJ a kiss on the cheek and grabbed one of the many guns and started looking over it. Yandere giggled as she talked in a soft voice to Bim, casually sharpening a knife that was almost as big as her face. Bim was doing the same with a much smaller blade. Chase and Jackie were chatting as well. Chase was loading bullets into a gun while Jackie wrapped the handle of a blade with dark tape.

“Hello!” JJ greeted as Yancy and Illinois walked over to the table as well.

“This is...a lot,” Yancy commented.

“This isn’t even half of it.” Wilford laughed. “We have a lot more and scarier in the armory.” Wilford handed the gun he was looking at to Yancy. Yancy made a face and gave the gun to Illinois, who had no discomfort with holding it.

“We also have more fun stuff.” JJ placed a hand on top of the bowler hat he was wearing and took it off, twitching his hand and blades popped out from around the rim.

“The fuck?” Yancy curled while Illinois titled his head.

“Everything’s a weapon.” Wilford winked.

“Are you guys like the weapons department or something?” Illinois asked with a little laugh.

“You could say that,” Jackie answered with a shrug.

“Everyone’s got their own gig,” Chase added.

“Look around, check it out, you’ll end up somewhere.” Wilford went back to work.

“They’ll probably be in Mare’s group,” Bim said with a point towards the end of the room where the maps and clocks were. Mare, Mad, Phantom, and Marvin stood together, split into two groups while Mad and Marvin looked at the maps, and Phantom and Mare glanced at the clocks while they wrote.

“What makes you think that?” Illinois asked.

“Yancy is all about schedules and you know how to explore new places.” Yandere said bluntly.

“Why does everyone think-” Yancy stopped himself. “Whatever.” He huffed and walked away.

“Do you want this back?” Illinois held the gun towards Wilford. Wilford chuckled at himself and took the offered weapon. Illinois nodded before following Yancy.

“They’ll need to be sent first if they want the cover of night to help,” Mare said. “Oh, hey guys, you have fun talking with my brother’s boyfriend?” Mare said the last part with a look at Phantom.

“Not my boyfriend.” Phantom stated and took the paper Mare was writing on, adding his own notes to it.

“How is he not?” Mad joined the conversation, Marvin tacking along to enjoy the gossip. “You two were very close this morning.”

“We’re friends, Mad.” Phantom tore the paper out of the notebook and handed it to Marvin.

“You were really touchy for just friends,” Marvin said with a giggle.

“You can fuck and not be dating.” Phantom rolled his eyes. “It’s called friends with benefits.” Mad blinked and turned his head to watch how Illinois and Yancy reacted to that. Yancy looked down at the ground and rubbed his arm while Illinois kept a neutral face but Mad would feel that he was having almost the same thoughts as Yancy. Mad took note and stepped away to actually write it down.

“I give it a month,” Mare said

“A week.” Marvin corrected.

“I’m getting some, that’s it, nothing more.” Phantom blew a raspberry.

“So, what are you guys doing?” Illinois asked, wanting a change in conversation.

“We help with the whole mapping out the locations and making sure times line up,” Mare said.

“We prefer to do things in the night and night is at a different time around the world,” Marvin added.

“And there’s trouble.” Mare laughed as Robbie and Blank walked over to them, both holding the ends of a plastic bag.

“Paper pickup!” Robbie said with a loud giggle.

“You guys working hard?” Mare rubbed the top of Blank’s head, messing up his hair.

“Daddy!” Blank squealed, using his free hand to swat away Mare’s

“We work very hard!” Robbie puffed out his chest.

“Good.” Marvin did the same thing to Robbie’s hair by added a little kiss.

“Papa!” Robbie wiggled in protest.

“Papers for the shredders.” Phantom plopped a pile of paper into the bag.

“Thank!” Robbie perked up. “Gonna go ask daddy for more.” He added to Marvin before he and Blank took off. Yancy and Illinois watched the two rush off to Chase and saw that CJ and RJ were with Dark, who was sitting at the head of the table with Host, holding a bag just like Robbie and Blank were.

“I think I got this,” Illinois said. “Robbie, Blank, CJ, and RJ are in charge of shredding any documentation you have.”

“Anything paper really,” Mare said. “They want to help and it’s the safest thing for them to do since we rarely ever send them out of missions.”

“Marvin is Robbie’s papa, Chase is Robbie’s daddy, Mare is Blank’s daddy and Mad is…” Yancy was counting off his fingers as he spoke, letting his voice trail as he looked at Mad.

“I-” Mad just went stiff.

“He’s just Mad,” Mare answered for him. “I made Blank long before we were a thing.”

“Wait. Made him?” Illinois caught the phrasing.

“It’s compli-.” Mare caught himself. “Long story I can tell later.”

“I need to actually start writing all of this down,” Illinois said.

“My brain’s gonna explode.” Yancy started to chew on his cuticles.

“Oh!” Mad went over to a bag and pulled out what looked like a large red Lego. “Here.” Mad gave Yancy the Lego and Yancy found that it was solid.

“What?”

“It’s a Chewy.”

“What?”

“It’s something you can bite on to help with stimulation, anxiety, or nail-biting habits.” Mad reached down the collar of his shirt and showed he was wearing a purple one as a necklace.

“Oh...thanks.” Yancy flashed a polite smile.

“What does Dark and Host do during this?” Illinois asked.

“They just make sure everything is in order. We’re kind of working in separate groups and they check that we’re all on the same page.” Marvin said. “Technically Chase, Mare, and Google should be with them, but often forget.”

“Is that a diss to me, Google, or your husband?” Mare asked.

“Yes.” Marvin’s response got a loud laugh from Phantom.

“I think Henrik and Edward are making med-kits.” Illinois pointed as he spoke, the two he had mentioned sitting together on one of the couches, organizing bandages and gauze into packs.

“Interestin’.” Yancy hummed.

“So that just leaves Google, Bing, and Anti,” Illinois said.

“Does King not do any of this stuff with yous?” Yancy asked when he noticed his gym buddy wasn’t here.

“I’m shocked you know who he is.” Mare chuckled. “But no, not really, he’s not the biggest fan of this but does help if asked for specific things.”

“I’ll ask him about that,” Yancy said and went towards the last little group, not seeing the look of confusion Mare made. Illinois just ignored it and joined Yancy.

“Tech stuff?” Yancy asked, standing next to Bing.

“Hey, dudes!” Bing greeted. “And yeah! We got the tech stuff. Googs does a lot of the hacking, I take care of the social media stuff and Anti helps out with both.”

“So...what kind of ‘missions’ do you guys actually do?” Illinois finally asked.

“Depends on the pay.” Bing shrugged. “Assassination, reputation ruining, framing-”

“You guys kill for hire?” Illinois felt like he should have seen it coming but it was still strange.

“It’s one of the things we do.” Bing was too casual for Illinois’ taste.

“Yancy’s killed before, this should be nothing,” Google stated.

“No, no, no, what I did wasn’t this.” Yancy gestured with both arms. “I was a kid, I was defending myself.”

“Whatever helps you sleep,” Google said.

“Googs.” Bing nudged Google with an elbow. “Not cool.”

“Not cool?” Google repeated and chewed on his lip, thinking about what he had said.

“We got a hit.” Anti finally looked away from the laptop he had been typing on. “We have to move now or we miss it.” Anti saw Yancy and Illinois. “We’ll talk shit about Google together later.” He said with a wink before disappearing and reappearing beside Dark.

“Wrap up and head out,” Dark called out and he stood. “Yancy, Illinois, you may leave and continue with your day.”

“I need to work out,” Yancy grumbled and walked off.

“You just need to never talk to him.” Illinois scoffed at Google and left as well.

“I need to reread their files,” Google said while Bing rubbed his arm.

“You need to not be a dick,” Bing said with a little smile.

“I’m not trying to.”

“I know, we’ll work on it.”

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

Tag List: (let me know if you want added or if your name has changed)

@rainymae523 @m0th-goo @windymischeif @voonespelle @ashywasteland93@madallice329 @sophiefrye22 @its-miinty

#a lifetime #a new life #yanois

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lover-girl-estxx · 8 months

Note

Can you write a fluff story about Nick, taking his son for the first time to the gym (BJJ or boxing, something like that.) and that the reader is a little bit concerned about it.

I Don't Know

Nick Diaz x Reader (N35 R33)

Fluff🖤 With a little dash of Angst

not the same RJ

"RJ just asked me something" Nick said getting in bed next to me, I sat my book down "and?" "he wants to go to the Jiu Jitsu class tomorrow" he smiled "yeah?" "I told him yeah" " you did?" I raised my brows "I didn't think it was a big deal" "I wish you would've talked to me" "i'm his dad, me and his uncle run a MMA gym you didn't think this would happen? I can't believe he didn't ask sooner" I shook my head "okay" "i'm sorry i didn't-" "no it's okay " I gave a small smile "love you," he kissed me "sorry" I smiled "love you".

-----Next Morning-----

"Breakfast!" I yelled RJ (7) came running in the room, both in a NDA shirt. "mom are you gonna come to the gym with us?" RJ asked "um-" "Pleeease?!" he said I laughed "okay yeah!" I smiled. "you ready?" Nick asked "Yeah" he said "babe?" he looked at me, I nodded "can I talk to you for a sec?" I asked "yeah he nodded.

| Nick's POV |

"whats up?" I asked after telling RJ to go in the living room "I don't know if I can watch him do this" she said biting her lip "why?" she sighed "what if he gets hurt?" "he won't" "that's what you've told me every time and you always got hurt" she said quickly looking up at me "babe" "and I want to support him but" "he's gonna have a great time and he may get a scratch but he'll be fine promise" I cupped both side of her "okay," she hugged me "all you fucking Diaz's give me a heart attack" I chuckled and kissed her head.

"Uncle Nate!" he yelled running to Nate, he hugged him "what are you guys doing here?" he said "dad's letting me do a jiu jitsu lesson" "oh yeah?". Y/n sat watch the lesson, one kid threw RJ over his shoulder giving Jay a bloody nose. Y/n tensed and held her breath "oh my god mom did you see that!" he smiled "clean your face" I said. Y/n cleaned up his face while he went on and on about how cool he thought it was.

We were know in the car on the way home when he asked "can I go again next week?!" Y/n look back to his smiling face "yeah!" "really! dad?" "if you liked it, of course" "I did! when can I punch people?" I laughed and Y/n scoffed with a smile "soon" I said Y/n slapped my chest "see your moms already there" Y/n laughed me joining.

A/n: I don't know if this is what you wanted. but I hope you liked it!

#nick diaz #nick diaz imagine #nick diaz x reader #nate diaz #ufc

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we-will-begin-again · 3 years

Note

“ stop fussing— this isn’t my blood. ” (Lori from Daryl)

BLOOD RELATED PROMPTS

Things had only gotten more and more tense since that first clash between the communities and the whisperers. They'd lost many friends in this senseless conflict that they didn't start, but Lori knew for a fact they were going to put an end to eventually; they always did, no matter what or who came for them. She could only hope that no more lives would be lost.

Her stress levels peaked whenever someone walked through the door, and Daryl seemed to be going out of his way just to make said stress levels skyrocket.

To say he was dirty would be an understatement, he walked in with his shirt covered in blood and a limp to his walk, heading for the kitchen and downing a bottle of water in less gulps than anyone should be able to. Lori sent Judith and RJ upstairs, making sure they made it to their bedrooms before she went after Daryl.

"'m fine," Daryl said the moment he felt her presence, briefly glancing over his shoulder at her before turning to the sink and washing his hands. "Got into a fight with the big one– Beta, that's all."

He muttered something quite impolite about the man, but Lori didn't really pay attention, her focus was on the forming bruise that she spotted at the back of his neck but that got lost under his shirt. She stepped forward, hand barely lifting the back of his shirt before he flinched away.

"Come on, Daryl, you're–"

"Stop fussing–" he snapped, glaring before realizing he was doing so and casting his eyes away almost apologetically. "This isn't my blood."

He moved to leave and Lori moved faster, standing in front of him. "Sit down and let me see your back."

Daryl frowned. "I said–"

"I said sit your ass down, Daryl Dixon," Lori interrupted him, teeth gritted and voice low because she didn't want to make an scene with the kids upstairs, but the way she was glaring daggers at Daryl made it clear she would if he left her no choice.

Defeated, Daryl pulled out a chair and sat facing the backrest. Lori lifted his shirt then, already familiar with the scars that adorned his skin, but caught off guard by the fresh bruises that now accompanied them. The size of one that was larger than her palm made her gasp.

"That bad?" Daryl huffed, sounding amused.

"Got into a fight?" she hissed, wincing at the thought of how this could have happened. "More like got beaten."

"You should've seen the other guy," Daryl retorted. "Pushed him down an elevator shaft."

"Damn," Lori breathed, moving to stand by his side, her hands are her hips and her brow arched. "And was that before or after he gave you enough bruises for a lifetime."

"After." Daryl moved to stand. "And since it's just bruises, I will–"

Once again, Lori moved faster, using his moment of distraction as he grabbed the same bloody shirt to put back on to grab a frozen steak and press it against the largest bruise, located on his lower back right over his spine, hearing Daryl hiss and curse under his breath.

"Stop fussing," she spoke almost mockingly. Lori guided his hand to hold the steak in place.

"You act like I'm deathly wounded and yet you're mean to me," Daryl huffed. "You make no damn sense, Lori."

"And yet, you love me," she retorted with a smirk. "So you make even less sense."

Daryl hummed his agreement, leaning closer in search of some mouth to mouth comfort. Lori leaned back, watching him frown in confusion that she'd moved away.

"I don't fuss. I worry about you, and rightfully so, because you're prone to getting hurt," she said, pushing past him. "Go lie down on the couch."

"On the couch?" Daryl groaned. "What did I do–"

"I don't fuss, Dixon," Lori interrupted him again. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before saying I do."

And with that, Lori went upstairs to assure the kids were getting ready for school.

#||in character||#||mail: lori grimes||#& daryl #||ship: daryl x lori||#wexarethewalkingxdead #||drabbles||#||rp meme answer||

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let-me-love-you-loki · 4 years

Text

Camping Too Late

Nick

Y/N stood by the door, watching with her arms crossed as Lee and I pulled storage tub after storage tub from one of the garages. Our oldest son was eleven now, and he had grown into a kind and intelligent kid. His dark brown hair curled a little around his neck and ears. Lee had easy smiles and an infectious laugh.

“Mom’s having kittens,” my son said, looking back.

I grinned. He’d heard me say that to Y/N once, and he’d laughed for ten minutes straight afterwards. “She’ll be okay, bud.” I leaned over and ruffled his hair. God, he’s getting tall. “We’re just going into the back yard.”

Lee tugged a sleeping bag from one of the tubs and tossed it onto a pile. “Why aren’t they coming with us?”

“Mattie has a trip with her co-op group. And Nicole and Ty are going to visit with Mamma and Papa,” I replied. I’d found the tub that had the tents in it. “Mama is gonna have some time by herself.”

He shook his head and grinned, looking so much like Matt that it caught me off guard. “Good. She deserves it.”

I hooked my arm around him and pulled him close, dropping a kiss on the top of his head. “Yeah, little man, she does.”

Matt

Nick and Lee were already getting everything out when I pulled in. I’d dropped Mattie off with her homeschool group for their trip to San Diego. She’d wanted to drive herself, but we’d vetoed that quick. She wasn’t happy about it, but Nick and I put our collective foot down. Mattie would have all weekend to get over it.

Once I’d dropped our eldest off, I’d taken Nicole and Ty to our mom and dad’s. I couldn’t thank our parents enough for everything they’d done for us. Mom supported Y/N when her own mom couldn’t be around. Dad did everything he could to teach us out to be good fathers. But more than anything, the two of them loved our kids more than anything in the world. I guess that’s why it wasn’t weird for my thirteen- and seven-year-old to be incredibly excited to stay with them for a night.

Y/N was at the door, watching everything with her brows furrowed. RJ, now nine, came pelting out of the house as soon as he saw me. He ran by his mom and nearly tripped over the pile of sleeping bags on the driveway. “Papa! You’re back! Can we go now? Huh? Can we?”

I laughed and pulled him into my side for a hug. “As soon as Dad and I get everything together, little dude. And say goodbye to Mama.”

He frowned. “Where’s Mama going?”

“She’s staying inside.”

His frown got deeper. “Alone?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Mama is going to have a nice, quiet weekend. And she’ll be waiting here for us tomorrow morning. I promise.”

“If we get scared in the yard… if we want to come home, will she come get us?” RJ’s lower lip quivered. He was still scared of the dark sometimes, and Y/N was the only one who could calm him down enough to go back to sleep.

“Absolutely,” I promised, kissing the top of his head. “All we have to do is call.”

Our middle son nodded. After a moment, he went to join Lee and Nick at the pile. Y/N watched as Nick and I shouldered the heavy tents and the firepit. The boys dragged the sleeping bags around the back of the house and into the yard.

I could feel my wife watching us, and I knew that she’d be peeking through the blinds as we took the boys on a backyard camping trip.

Nick

It took Matt and I almost an hour to put the tent together. Lee and RJ went through the sandy brush behind the yard to grab twigs and branches for our campfire. Once, Matt had to stop and yell at them for swatting at each other with sticks. Another time, I had to put them both on separate ends of the patio for running around the pool.

“Were we that bad?” I asked as Matt hammered the last tent pole into the ground. I tried not to think about the holes that were going to be left in my yard.

My brother laughed and dropped the rubber mallet into the now empty tent bag. “Worse. Remember when Mom used to come out yelling when we were doing our backyard shows? She screamed bloody murder at us half the time.”

“God help us if they want to go into the business, too.” It was one thing to train with Mattie in the old PWG ring we’d bought. I couldn’t imagine the boys getting into it like we did.

Matt tossed the sleeping bags into the tent and looked at the pile of sticks that they boys brought. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked sideways at me. “Are we supposed to do all of this the old-fashioned way?”

“Matches. And keep a bucket of sand and the water hose handy,” I laughed. While Matt handled the fire safety precautions, I looked at the patio where the boys still pouted. I clapped my hands and let out a whistle. “Let’s do it, Jacksons!”

Lee and RJ looked at each other for a moment and then came trotting across the yard, looking appropriately contrite.

“So,” I said, crossing my arms and looking at them. “It’s going to be dark in a couple hours. Papa is getting everything ready for the campfire. What do you say the three of us make sure we’ve got everything in the cooler for dinner?”

Lee nodded and moved off toward the Yeti that sat in the shade by the tent. RJ took a step and then stopped. “Dad, what do we do if we gotta go to the bathroom?”

“Number one or number two?”

He bounced on his toes and tugged at the back of his pants. “Number two.”

A number one was easier. Go behind a bush. But it looked like we’d have to break our house rule early on in this camping experience. I took him by the hand and lead him toward Matt’s place. Y/N was staying in my house tonight, so it’d be easier to sneak in and out next door.

Matt

I looked up from the fire pit as Nick walked by with RJ in tow. Our middle son was tugging on the back of his shorts, a clear sign that he was about two seconds away from an accident. You’d think he’d have gotten over that now that he was seven, but RJ was different. Y/N had talked us into getting him tested when he was six after something her sister said. Now we knew he was on the spectrum, and we learned something new every day about how unique he was and how we would navigate the world with him.

“Little man, when you get done with that, want to help me set up the camp chairs?” I grinned at our oldest son. The three of us had joked about it in the past… the fact that Lee looked so much like me that it was impossible to question who his biological father was. He had my hair and my eyes, the same shape of my face. He even smiled the same as me.

By the time Nick and RJ snuck out the back door of my house, Lee and I had put camp chairs out in a semicircle around the fire pit. I’d gotten the flames going and sustained them with some dry leaves, shredded paper, and some stripped limbs from one of the bushes. Three wire coat hangers had been painfully unwound and straightened out with a good amount of frustration, a few stabs, and a set of needle nose pliers. One of the chairs held a packet of hot dogs, a sleeve of Hershey’s chocolate bars, a box of graham crackers, and a bag of marshmallows. Some hot dog buns and a bottle of ketchup sat on top of the cooler. The sky was darkening, and stars began to twinkle overhead.

I didn’t need to look to know that our wife was standing at the window, peering out into the darkness through the blinds. I waved in the direction of the house, hoping that she’d understand that we were fine. Nick swept RJ up beneath his arms, blew a raspberry on the back of his neck, and swung him into his Lightning McQueen camp chair.

“Food first, then s’mores,” I said, ripping into the food. Nick brought the hangers over and speared them into the hot dogs. He put one in Lee’s hand and moved his camp chair until it was close enough to the fire pit to roast the hot dog but not so close that our son would get burned. I took one of the hangers, speared a second hot dog, and slouched into a chair.

Nick pulled up his chair and plopped RJ in his lap. I was surprised that our son didn’t resist. Sometimes he didn’t like being touched much. He had his moments and his meltdowns. But it seemed like Nick was having a good day with him.

After hot dogs came the s’mores. Lee set his first marshmallow completely on fire. The second slipped off the wire onto the grass. By the time he got his third one roasted just right, RJ was already on his second nearly perfect s’more. Of course, he was covered from the tip of his nose to the collar of his t-shirt in melted chocolate and gelatin. He was having fun, so I counted it as a win.

***

I watched from the living room window for a while. The four of them sat around the fire pit for hours as the sky turned dark and the stars came out. I watched as they roasted hot dogs and marshmallows. As Nick and Matt laughed at RJ with chocolate all over his face. As they cleaned him up and plopped him back in his Cars chair. I watched as the fire started to burn down, as my husbands drew squeals of fright from our sons with playful ghost stories, and then as the boys began to yawn.

Matt disappeared into the tent with RJ and Lee while Nick took care of the fire pit. He smothered it first with a bucket of sand and then soaked it well with the water hose. Smoke and steam curled up into the dark sky as Nick turned the pile over with a garden spade, making sure there weren’t any embers still burning. Everyone in California knew how to stop a fire from getting out of control in the height of summer.

Nick looked up, catching sight of me in the window. He didn’t need to say it. I could hear his words echoing in my ears. Trust us. And God knew I did. I guess I just wasn’t ready to let go of my little boys being little.

And for the first night in a long time, RJ didn’t have any nightmares.

Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it @not-that-kinda-gurl08 @lilred91 @imagineall-the-fandoms @maelleoute @librathepheonix13 @justamess44

#camping too late #the too late tales #too late tales #matt jackson #nick jackson #young bucks #matt jackson fanfiction #nick jackson fanfiction #young bucks fanfiction #aew #aew fanfiction #reader #matt x reader #nick x reader #matt x reader x nick #polyamory #polyamorous relationships

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krreader · 5 years

Text

BTS scenario → your child being obsessed with their BT21 character.

pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts warnings: language genre: fluff ; crack

a/n: oh my god SUCH a cute request, thank you angel

kim seokjin

Listen, the fact that his daughter loved RJ to infinity and beyond was only an excuse for Jin to get literally everything RJ related there was, without you being able to complain.

However, the girl's room was filled to the brim with RJ plushies, toys, pictures and god knows what else and it was getting a little bit out of hand.

Especially when your husband came home with a plushie that was bigger than your daughter.

She was screaming happily when he put it down, tackled it to the ground and cuddled with it like she’d never let it go again, but you just crossed your arms in front of your chest and eyed him angrily.

“What? They gave it to me for free,” he shrugged, then started to grin and wrapped his arms around your waist, “And besides.. look how happy she is.. doesn't that make you happy too, Jagiya? Doesn't it?” he nuzzled his nose into your neck until you couldn't help but giggle.

He was an idiot, but he was your idiot, so it was okay.

min yoongi

What your son wanted was a Shooky plushie for his birthday after he had found out that his father basically owned the character and could get it for free.

What he got was a plushie that was so small that you could shove it into your handbag.

But your son wasn't the kind of kid to get upset over the size of the toy or the amount of gifts. He loved it just as much as he would have loved something bigger, because his father had listened to what he had so desperately wanted and got him that thing and that mattered the most to him.

“You could have given him a little more than that, don't you think? You get this stuff for free, after all,” you whispered as you watched the little boy play with it.

“(Y/N), if I see more than this in my house, I'm afraid I will burn it all down, so this is all I can take.”

Touché.

jung hoseok

“Daddy, I want this one, but I don't know how it works,” Hoseok had decided to take his daughter to the Line shop and let her pick whatever she wanted for her birthday.

Hoseok had been excited and confident, he was ready to buy his little princess whatever she wanted, had expected her to want a plushie, but she wanted a toy that he didn't know how to use because, on the package, it said it could do stuff like talk and move its head, but he had no idea how that was supposed to work and it showed.

And as he stood there, trying to figure it out and his daughter had already moved on to the next toy she could find, you began to chuckle and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“You need a hand there?”

“Nope, I'm good, thank you for asking, love,” he smiled, but deep down he was raging because, how the hell was this stupid toy supposed to work?!

He needed to have a word with the people in charge.

He ended up saying: “Ara, why don't we go pick something else for you, hm? I'll let you pick three more toys instead.”

Well played, Jung Hoseok, well played.

kim namjoon

“I'm sorry I can't be home for your birthday, love..”

“That's okay, daddy, mommy made me cake and bought me soooo many Van toys,” she giggled with excitement, but then began to pout after a moment, “But she didn't get me more Koya's and now I'm sad because I think we should all love Koya as much as we love Van.”

“Ah, that's not very nice of mommy, right?”

You were doing the dishes in the background, making sure your daughter was distracted, before you flipped him off through the camera, but then smiled when your daughter looked back at the phone again like it never happened.

Namjoon started laughing wholeheartedly, before he added, “Wait.. I remember.. I got you something too, but you'll only get it when I'm back. You want to see it?”

“Yes, please!” the little girl patiently waited and when he returned with an oversized Koya toy, she started to scream, “YOU'RE THE BEST DADDY!”

Wow, you literally bake her a fucking Van cake and yet daddy is the best.

“You will appreciate mommy more, right?” you whispered to your son in your belly as your hand gently brushed over it.

park jimin

Your son loved Chimmy.

So much that he had everything of Chimmy.

You were surprised just how much Chimmy stuff he had, until you packed for vacation.

And as you watched the little boy run into the toddler pool with his Chimmy swimsuit – or a shirt and shorts, to be fair – and his Chimmy shoes and his Chimmy cap, you were sighing deeply.

It looked ridiculous at this point, not cute anymore.

“His obsession is getting a little out of hand, don't you..-”

But when you turned your head to look at your husband, he was wearing his Chimmy towel with a hood attached to it.

“Hm? What did you say?”

“Oh.. nothing.”

No wonder where the boy gets it from.

kim taehyung

“You have so much Tata stuff already, Hyemin.. I don't think you need more.”

“Daddy! Tata needs more love and I want to show it to him,” she pouted, “And besides, Tata is my brother. Because you're his daddy. So I want more of him.”

Well, not much he could really do about it, she was too stubborn to accept a no.

Anyways, Taehyung grinned, a little proud of himself now to hear his daughter support his BT21 character like that.

“Daddy is pretty cool, hm?”

“Yeah,” she was playing with a Tata plushie so she didn't see what her father was doing.

“But this makes it ten times cooler, right?”

Suddenly you heard her scream through the entire house, so loud that you immediately ran upstairs and asked: “What happened?!”

You found her crying on the floor, clutching a toy against her chest.

“Daddy ruined my Tata toy!”

“Wh..- Huh?” you furrowed your eyebrows, Taehyung looking at you apologetically.

“I signed it.. it's.. I just thought..- It'd be cool.”

“She's your daughter, Taehyung. Why would she need your signature?” you gently hit his chest and knelt down in front of your girl to pick her up, “Come on, sweetheart, maybe we can wash it off.”

And when you were gone already, he yelled: “You know.. a lot of people would be very happy to get a Tata toy with my signature on them,” after you with a pout.

jeon jeongguk

His son wanted one (1) Cooky toy.

But once Jeongguk found out about the obsession his son had developed for the BT21 character, Jeongguk was so fucking proud, that he ended up getting the whole collection for him.

And now you were standing in a room filled with boxes, all of them having toys, plushies, clothes and other things in them.

And while the boy was already playing with them, your husband was sitting on the bed with a plushie and a toy and grinning at you.

But when he saw the anger on your face, that slowly disappeared.

“I mean.. you're pregnant, so.. we can.. give the.. new.. baby..-” he gulped down hard, mumbling a: “Please don't kill me,” to you, but you just turned around and walked out of the room.

Oh, he'd not get access to your vagina for a few weeks, that was for sure..

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