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aurasplanet · 2 months

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GOT IT CYCLOPS? carl grimes x fem!reader

warnings — both are 18+, stupid grimes part 2, e2l?, adopted!rhee!reader, teasing, making out, fingering, jerking off, lovesick once they stop having bitch fights

it went unspoken that you and carl were going to ignore that day in the janitor’s closet. you both were snapped into reality and rescued before things could escalate much further, leaving tension and awkwardness at a high.

and carl couldn’t tell if he liked that or not, on one hand, he’s glad he let everything out and the two of you shared a moment. on the other, you’re really hot when you’re mad.

currently you were ready to chew his ass out, ready to pound his face in for being so stupid. he walked through the streets of alexandria with you hot on his trail, a smirk playing on his lips despite the circumstances.

this was another instance where the adults were trying to put you both together again. they noticed how at peace you seemed after coming home that one day, despite being bombarded by a herd. but after that it was right back to how it was before. and they were determined.

it was mostly rick and daryl, your mom too if she weren’t at the hilltop. you can still remember carl begging you to stay and then acting like he hated your guts again when you caved.

this time the run was nearly successful, though on the way back to your car to load up and leave, carl decided to pick a fight.

carl lifts the trunk with a grunt, tossing in diapers and other things judith needed. you were carrying miscellaneous things negan would want, making your way to the car. you sling your haul into the trunk, turning with a grimace when you hear carl’s snarky laughter.

he points behind you at a trio of walkers headed your way. from the looks of it, it’s only them. but you settle for just your knife anyway. but carl’s hand is on your shoulder before you can make your way to them, they’re about thirty feet away.

“rock paper scissors for ‘em.” he smirks and holds out his fist. you narrow your eyes at him and swat at his hand.

“are you crazy? let’s just deal with them.” you remember him lecturing those kids for playing with the walkers before, now look at him.

carl lifts his hands in the air, “i forgot how afraid you are of losing.” you go to turn to him, ready to spew out the meanest things that came to your head. but he darts ahead of you, killing two of the walkers. the last one is able to get it’s hands on him while he was busying himself with it’s friends. you watch amused as he tackles it to the ground, showing a little struggle as he does so.

you make slow steps to him, watching for a while until the walker’s mouth gets dangerously close to carl’s neck. carl who was still telling you to hold off on killing it. but you ignore him, running over and piercing through it’s eye with your blade in one swift motion.

“i said i fucking had it,” carl huffs as he stands, brushing off his clothes. he looks to you, your sour expression stunning him. “what’s that look for?”

you let out a short laugh and poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue. “you had it? come on, if i wasted thirty more seconds listening to you, i’d have a dead grimes on my hands.”

carl smirks and walks closer to you, placing a hand on your waist, “didn’t know you cared that much, rhee.” you push him away with a dirty look,

“this little cool guy act doesn’t amuse me.” carl sighs and slides his knife back in his belt. “you know what will happen to me if i come back with you bit? i’ll never be trusted again.”

“admit you’d be at least a little sad.” carl’s voice isn’t teasing anymore, it sounds like he genuinely wants you to say it. like he believed you would be so heartless. you just sigh and nod, mumbling a ‘whatever’ and walk to the car. that’s enough for him.

you were still pissed at him for that little stunt, and made it very known. you followed him around all day, making sure to let any strange lookers know that his reckless behavior led him to being babysat all the time.

instead of bickering back he just took it, and even laughed. “what are you laughing at grimes?”

he shrugs, lifting his hat to run a hand through his hair. “i just like riling you up like this.” he smiles at your annoyed expression. “it’s fun!” you roll your eyes and walk past him, parting from him for the first time that day. he looks at where you were just standing, then behind him, running a bit to catch up to you. the approaching footsteps behind you cause you to sigh and cross your arms.

“what happened to babysitting me?”

his voice is still laced with humor, it’s starting to make you mad. “carl.” you whip around, your stern voice startles him, leading him to freeze. you get close to him, so close he can feel your breath on his lips. again, and it drives him crazy.

your composure falls and you adjust yourself on your feet. “carl, i’m not riled up, i’m not just babysitting you. what happened today scared me. you got too cocky with things and almost got yourself killed.”

carl bites his lip nervously, looking into your eyes. he dips his head down, not worrying about the gazes trained on you. “let me make it up to you.”

his lips brush yours and you place your hands on his chest, blocking him from going further. he pouts slightly, tilting his head. “that won’t work this time.”

that night you laid in your dark room, not bothering to turn on the lantern. you were lost in your thoughts, what if you had just let carl be? what if he did get bit? why is he playing it off like it didn’t happen? why is he playing that night off like it didn’t happen?

the last thing has made you snarkier with him. you were pissed he was acting like he hadn’t confessed to you, like he hadn’t kissed you and almost took it to the next base if it weren’t for your little rescue team.

a noise rips you out of your thoughts. it sounded like something small hitting glass. you lift the headphones of your walkman off your head and creep over to your window. on the way you slide your gun off your nightstand, would you realistically need it? nine out of ten times no one could get in the walls, but you’ve learned to never play it too safe.

another noise comes before you can reach the window and you sigh when you see the pebble hit the glass and fall. carl.

you huff and toss your gun onto your bed, rushing to the window and throwing it open. your hands slam on the window seal, a loud smack sound echoing through the night.

“that was a little dramatic.”

“what do you want, grimes?” carl answers you by climbing the tree next to your window. you roll your eyes but stand to the side to allow him entry anyway.

he breathes heavily when he makes it to the top, looking into your room and then at you through the glass. “i can come in?”

you give him a stupid look and lean on your hip, “no, i’ll push you and watch you fall and snap your neck.” you reach out and grab him by the collar to tug him in. “you can be so stupid, grimes.”

“stupid for you.” he attempts to wink but mentally face palms when he realizes that’s definitely not possible at this point. he makes a funny face at himself and you can’t help but smile, his poor attempt at being mr. smooth reminded you of that night.

then your mind drifts to how he’s ignoring it. and you’re back to mad again.

“what do you want?”

carl frowns at your tone, so you’re still mad, got it. “i want to make it up to you. besides the fact, you know, i’m still here and breathing.”

“that’s not the point carl.” you grunt as you sit on your bed, putting your revolver in your nightstand. carl sits next to you, looking at you expectantly for you to continue. a sigh leaves your lips and your head falls to look at your hands instead of him.

“you could have died.” carl opens his mouth to protest, but you’re quicker, placing a hand over his mouth. his shoulders fall dejectedly but he awaits your explanation nonetheless. “you’re being idiotic and careless and just an asshat like you were before.”

your hand slowly falls from his face and he looks at you with a glint of regret in his eye. “i just thought things would change after what you explained and confessed. i didn’t think you’d just act like nothing happened.”

he doesn’t know what to say, so his hand reaches out to grab yours when you smack it. he looks up to see your sad expression wiped away with an angered one. “and if you’d died without acting on whatever the hell that was, believe me grimes, i wouldn’t let you rest easy.” carl smiles at your returned sassy spark, the you that was so fun to toy with.

“okay then, rhee.” he grabs your hand, harsh enough to keep you from pulling away but not enough to hurt you. “catch me doing it again and you can take me out yourself.” you seem satisfied at that, causing carl to laugh at your antics.

“can i finally make it up to you now?” you quirk a brow at him, breath hitching at how close he was getting. “i’ve been wanting to kiss you, but i didn’t want to push anything.” so you do it for him, you close the gap between the two of you with a kiss slower than last time.

you pull away for a second and he chases your lips, leading you both to fall back on the mattress. “if you’re gonna make it up to me, you’re gonna do it right. we’re doing this how i want it. got it, cyclops?” he narrows his eye at you and tilts his head at the nickname, but doesn’t protest against your demands.

you slide your hand through his hair, gripping the tufts near his neck to pull his lips back to yours. he groans against your lips with every tug you make, his hips involuntarily grinding down onto yours.

you guide his right hand up to your waist and his left to your chest. he pulls away, a line of spit connecting your swollen lips. he looks down, finally realizing that all you have on is a sheer tank top and shorts. fitting for summer heat, but the lack of a bra surprises him more than it should.

he swallows thickly and feels his pants get uncomfortably tighter. the hand at your waist tugs your body closer to his while the other makes work on your nipples through your shirt. you can tell he’s inexperienced but so are you, the only thing giving it away is the confused look on his face and how needy he’s acting.

he shuts his eye tightly when you stop his movements and trail your hands down to his pants. you nod your head to the side and carl sits himself against your headboard, watching you intently. he’s breathing heavily again and his right hand comes up to cup your face.

if you were to look up you would see the adoration in his gaze, but your focus is trained on pleasing him instead. your minds are on polar opposite sides. you get his pants down and wrap your hand around him, causing him to suck in a breath through his teeth.

his hand goes to yours before you could even think about going further, “wait.” he pulls you closer to him, placing you on his lap. “i want to make it up to you.” you get the hint when he messily glides you over his cock. he shivers slightly at the contact but holds back as best as he can.

“what happened to this going my way?”

carl lets out a noise between a whine and a groan, “please.” and who are you to deny that?

“i’d like to see the protection you have then.” carl’s head falls back, knocking his hat off. he hadn’t planned things to go this far.

he throws an arm over his face, “where the hell was i supposed to get that?” you pat his cheek as a warning sign,

“don’t get snarky again. i don’t see mini rick and michonne’s running around. i’m sure you could’ve found something.” carl gives you a pointed glare, hinting at you to do the same. “i’m not going in my parent’s room, that’s a one way ticket to busted-town, grimes.”

carl huffs and pushes his sweaty hair away from his face. the comment you had made before about him being pretty, even now, has his face turning slightly pink. “i have an idea.” his hands find their way on your hips, and he looks to you for confirmation before he continues.

he guides you to get on your knees, your cunt hovering right over his dick. he takes two fingers and experimentally runs them through your folds, coating his fingers in your slick. he groans at how wet you are, trying to rack his brain for what to do next.

you giggle at him, watching the gears turn in his head. he smiles softly at you in return, sliding one of his fingers into you. he does his best at trying to keep his composure as he leads your hand to his cock, letting you take the reigns.

he curls his finger, eye searching your face for any hint of pain. your eyes meet his as you run your thumb over his slit, challenging him to keep eye contact. his mouth falls open and his movements are already getting messy. he leans in to kiss you, matching the ferocity from that night in the closet. teeth clashing and moans and heavy breaths mixing.

you feel his thumb on your clit, attempting to rub slow circles but he just can’t hold himself back. his movements echo yours, or what he wants you to give him. instead you’re being too slow for his liking, getting back at him for all his innocent teasing.

but it still gets him close, because he’s starving and it’s you. and he can tell by the way your thighs are shaking that you are too. he parts from your lips just enough to speak, “with me.” he’s so out of it, so breathless and entranced he can barely speak. “please.” you nod, speeding up your movements until his cock is twitching in your hand and making a mess of it and your sheets. though his lap isn’t much better, causing you to bury your head in his neck.

carl couldn’t help but laugh, you’ll never escape his antics if he gets this out of it.

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mawidixon · 1 month

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Saying "I missed you" won't express how I was dying inside

Daryl x fem!pregnant!reader

One-shot

Genre: Angst, fluff at the end

Warnings: Twd violence, swearing, pregnancy stuff,

Setting: Season 7 - Hilltop

Summary: After Daryl was taken by the Saviors, your life became much more difficult. However, you had a little reminder of him growing inside your womb.

A/N: This is my first one-shot. I did my best, but I'm not sure what to think about it. I hope you like it! Have a nice day! Sorry for any mistakes if there are any.

@mawi22 I don't want my work to be modified, copied, or any of this kind of stuff without my consent!!!

Your situation was rather of the ‘surprise’ kind of pregnancy that most women would not have been expecting to happen to them any time soon. At first, you could only feel the element of fear as you tried to think of how Daryl would respond to this new development that you never saw coming. It was troubling in your heart, for you understood well that he had his qualms about having a baby at this stage in life. There lies the grey area of a personal experience of a man who could not escape the dark memories of his childhood to become a responsible father and provider; the fear of making the same mistakes and reproducing the same patterns that define bad parenting. The commitment that a child would bring was too heavy for him to bear at this time in his life as he saw it as a mountain he would have to climb. This was the feeling you had when you were carrying this secret within you, a feeling of conflict within the self, torn between protecting him from the truth and the truth within your senses and conscience. However, with time, the silence became unbearable and you got to a stage that one could not continue suppressing the truth anymore regardless the fact that it created a feeling of awkwardness. The desire of getting closer and creating a fair partnership could not remain unanswered anymore, so it is, you had to face this sensitive concern with bravery and openness.

As time went by, Daryl's feelings for the unborn child grew stronger. Despite his initial fears, the anxiety that had plagued him over the past few months began to fade. He had always been cautious, but now, a new kind of tenderness emerged. When you were cuddling on the couch, he would often place his rough, calloused hand on your belly, rubbing it gently as if he could already feel the connection to his child. Daryl's efforts to prepare for the baby were evident. Every time he came back from a run, his backpack would be filled with baby clothes, toys, and little trinkets he thought might be useful. His eyes would light up with a mix of pride and excitement as he showed you his finds, his voice tinged with a rare softness as he explained why he chose each item.

One night, you pretended to be asleep, curious about the whispers coming from his side of the bed. You peeked through half-closed eyes to see Daryl leaning close to your belly, his lips barely an inch away from your skin. He was talking to the baby, his voice low and gentle, filled with promises and dreams for the future. It was a side of him you rarely saw, vulnerable and hopeful, and it made your heart swell with love. However, Daryl's protectiveness sometimes bordered on overbearing. He couldn't stand to see you doing any kind of unnecessary work. Whether it was lifting a box or bending down to pick something up, he would swoop in, insisting that you rest and let him handle it. At times, it was endearing, but often it left you feeling frustrated. You appreciated his concern, but you also craved a bit of independence.

"Darlin', you shouldn't be doing that," he'd say, gently taking a task out of your hands. You'd sigh, sometimes rolling your eyes, but deep down, you knew it came from a place of love and fear of losing you both. Despite the occasional annoyance, you found comfort in his unwavering dedication. Daryl had faced so many dangers in his life, but none seemed to shake him as much as the prospect of fatherhood. And in his own way, he was already proving to be a devoted and loving partner, ready to protect and cherish his growing family.

...

That was until Negan and his people took Daryl. The day everything changed, you were at the Hilltop, just weeks away from your due date. The anticipation of meeting your baby was mingled with the joy of Daryl’s newfound tenderness and protectiveness. It was supposed to be a time of hope and new beginnings. You were resting in one of the rooms when the commotion outside caught your attention. Peeking through the window, you saw a group of people rushing towards the main gate. Your heart sank as you recognized Sasha and Maggie, both with tears streaming down their faces. You hurried out, your swollen belly making every step a little more difficult.

Sasha spotted you immediately and ran over, her face a mix of grief and urgency. "Daryl… they took Daryl, and killed Abraham and Glenn." she said, her voice breaking. For a moment, her words didn’t register. The world seemed to tilt, and you had to steady yourself against a nearby wall.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and before you knew it, you were crying uncontrollably. Your sobs echoed through the courtyard, a raw expression of the fear and despair gripping your heart. Everything had been perfect, or as perfect as it could be in this world. You were about to start a family with the man you loved, and now… now, he was gone. Each moment that passed without Daryl felt like an eternity. The fear that he might be dead gnawed at you, a constant, unbearable weight. You clutched your belly, feeling the baby move inside you, a bittersweet reminder of the life you had hoped to share with Daryl.

The Hilltop community tried to offer support, but nothing could quell the storm of emotions inside you. The world that had seemed so promising just a few hours ago now felt dark and uncertain. All you could do was cling to the hope that the love of your life was still out there, fighting to come back to you and the child he had already come to love so deeply.

It was another day without Daryl. Each morning, you woke with a glimmer of hope that he might somehow return, only to be crushed by the reality that he was still out there, somewhere, in the clutches of the Saviors.

As you sat in the room you once shared with him, your eyes wandered to the baby items scattered around, each one a testament to Daryl's growing excitement about becoming a father. Tiny clothes, soft blankets, and the little toys he had brought back from his runs—each piece carried a memory of happier times. You remembered the day you and Daryl decided to keep the baby’s gender a surprise. It had been a moment filled with laughter and love, a rare lightness in your often perilous lives. He had said about teaching the baby to hunt and fix motorcycles. The memory brought a bittersweet smile to your face, followed quickly by a pang of sorrow. Now, with Daryl gone and no certainty of his fate, the need to know the baby’s gender became overwhelming. It felt like a way to hold onto him, to make the waiting a little more bearable. Perhaps knowing would bring some comfort, some sense of connection to him amidst the chaos.

You made your way to the Hilltop’s infirmary, your heart heavy but resolute. As the doctor performed the ultrasound, you held your breath, tears threatening to spill over. The sound of the baby’s heartbeat filled the room, strong and steady, a small beacon of hope in the darkness.

“It’s a boy,” the doctor announced with a gentle smile, and the tears you had been holding back finally flowed freely. You clutched your belly, imagining a little boy with Daryl’s piercing blue eyes, his determined spirit, and his fierce love. The knowledge that you were carrying a son gave you a renewed sense of purpose. You whispered to your belly, promising Daryl that you would stay strong, that you would protect their child with everything you had. The thought of a little boy who would grow up to be a hundred percent version of his father brought a sliver of light to your heart.

Each kick and movement from your baby boy was a reminder of the love you shared with Daryl, a love that had created this new life. Despite the uncertainty and fear, you held onto the hope that one day, Daryl would return, and you would introduce him to his son. Until then, you would keep fighting, for both of them.

...

Thirty minutes had passed, and you were in the kitchen, preparing something to eat. The rhythmic chopping of vegetables was almost soothing, a temporary distraction from the gnawing worry that had settled in your chest. Maggie was sitting beside the table, her expression a mix of concern and frustration.

“You should really let me do this,” Maggie insisted for the tenth time, her voice firm yet gentle. “You’re in the late stage of pregnancy. You need to rest.” You sighed, pausing for a moment to look at her. “Maggie, I’m fine.”

Maggie opened her mouth to argue again, but the sound of the gate to the Hilltop cracking open interrupted her. Her head snapped towards the window, eyes wide with curiosity and a hint of hope. She quickly got up, moving to the stove to turn off the gas. "Hey, what’s going on?” you asked, a mix of confusion and worry in your voice.

Maggie turned to you, her face lit up with a sudden, intense emotion. “Daryl came back!” Her voice trembled with joy and disbelief. For a moment, you stood there frozen, the words echoing in your mind. Daryl came back. The knife slipped from your hand, clattering onto the counter as you felt your heart race with a mixture of hope and fear.

You hurried towards the door, following Maggie. As you reached the courtyard, the sight that met your eyes took your breath away. There, amidst the gathering crowd, was Daryl. His clothes were worn and dirty, his face marked by exhaustion and pain, but he was there. He was alive.

Daryl looked up, and his eyes met yours. For a moment, everything else faded away. You rushed towards him, your hands instinctively moving to your belly, feeling the life inside you kicking in response to your racing heart.

“Daryl!” you cried, your voice breaking with emotion. He moved towards you, his steps quickening as he saw you. In an instant, he was there, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close. You buried your face in his chest, sobbing with relief.

“'m here,” he whispered, his voice rough but filled with love. “’m here, an' 'm not goin' anywhere.” You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands cupping his face. “I was so scared,” you admitted, your voice shaking. “I didn’t know if you were...” He just wiped away your tears in response.

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his embrace and the sound of his heartbeat, the world felt right again. You held onto him, promising yourself that you would never let go.

To your surprise, tears began to stream down Daryl’s face too. The strong man you knew, who rarely showed any signs of weakness, was now falling apart before your very eyes. He got on his knees and cupped your distended belly with his calloused hands, running his fingers over your skin softly, which brought tears to your eyes. "How is my little one?" he said with happiness and the tenderness of a father. He smiled at you and the weariness in his eyes was replaced by hope. “He’s okay,” you responded, not even realizing that you were saying it out loud. As for Daryl, his eyes opened wide in shock. “He?” he repeated, coming to the realization. It suddenly dawned on you that you had let it slip. You had planned to surprise him but in the heat of the moment, you blurted it out. “I’m sorry. .. Yes, I shouldn’t have—”Before you could finish, Daryl’s face softened. He slowly stood up, reaching out to cup your face gently. He said softly, “Nothin' to apologize for.”

"I love you"

"I love ya too"

#daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #x reader #daryl x reader #tw depressing stuff

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sinsandsweetness · 1 year

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BIRTHDAY BOY

(Rick & Daryl x fem!reader)

warnings- 18+ content. minors do not interact please n' thank u, smut, double penetration, FMM threesome, oral sex, fingering, anal, cream pies... i think that's it. (no Rick x Daryl, just them sharing you) 2k word count.

notes- inspired by @gxtitobxby 's 'Rickyl bday sex' blurb. enjoy!

You sat at the end of the dinner table, listening to the sound of silverware scraping on the porcelain plates. Your bare feet underneath, sneaking over to the boots of both men sitting across you. Earning a tiny smile that pulled at Rick's lips, and a quick glance from Daryl.

"Is it ok? I didn’t know if you liked vanilla or chocolate so I was worried it was maybe too bland-" you put your fork down. The taste of the vanilla buttercream and strawberries still coating your tastebuds.

"It’s really good, baby. Nice and sweet." Rick got up and grabbed the empty plates, brushing you on his way to the kitchen. "Just like you." He leaned down to plant a sweet kiss on the top of your head. You beamed at Daryl, awaiting his own response. Considering that the cake was for his birthday.

" 's good," he said, shovelling the last bite in his mouth. Eyes shifting back up as your feet climbed higher, toes tickling at the denim. Trying to tease him, make him smile… get any reaction really. Your smile dropped at his continued lack of interest.

From the kitchen, Rick called you over. You grabbed Daryl’s empty plate and maintained eye contact as you dipped your pinky in the icing left on the plate, sucking it clean as you walked over to Rick.

"He’s just tired, baby. Why don’t you go get your pjs on n’ we’ll watch a movie or somethin'." Rick told you with a gentle hand on your elbow. Just as aware of the unimpressed energy coming from the man at the table.

They had just gotten back from a pretty long run the night before. And apparently things didn’t go quite as planned. They ran into another group and were out two days longer than intended. You didn’t ask for details, but the blood on their clothes was enough to assume the worst.

You could hear them talking in the kitchen as you climbed up the plush carpet stairs, not making out any real words, just the gravelly sound of their voices.

In the bedroom, you stood in front of the mirror, a little disappointed to be changing out of the pretty sundress you put on. You knew that Daryl really liked it. That was the whole reason you’d picked it out. You spent all morning getting ready, curling your hair and securing half of it up with a silky pink ribbon. You got yourself all dolled up for him.

Just as you were rooting around the drawer of Rick and Daryl’s old tee shirts, kindly donated to you for sleep and loungewear, you heard the door creak open and through the mirror you could see Daryl. He came up behind you, put his hands on your waist and nestled his face into the crook of your neck. He breathed in and left a couple sweet little kisses.

"I really did like the cake," he started, turning you around to look at him, your butt pressed up against the dresser. "Did you pick those strawberries yourself?" He asked.

You nodded with a smile, bringing your hands up to the back of his neck. "I practically had to fight Carol off for em'."You admitted.

Amusement flashed through his face. You figured Rick must have told him to quit being so moody. To give you even the littlest bit of praise for your hard work. With the lunchtime birthday party earlier in the day, and the cake you baked from scratch. You hesitantly pressed your mouth against his.

"I liked the present too." He mumbled against your lips. His hands trailed up your dress, clearly recognizing it from the last time you wore it. You’d gotten him a switchblade. His other one broke and you happened to find one really similar at Hilltop. You’d traded a whole basket of food for it.

"There is one more present you know…" You told him, hands slowly making their way to his belt. His tongue darting out to lick his lips as you unbuckled him. Sinking down to your knees in front of him, and kissing his hard on through his boxers. The contact making his cock twitch.

"Can I give you my other present now?" You asked innocently, looking up at him through long lashes. Painted fingernails tickling at the waist band as his hands went right to your hair.

"Go right ahead, princess," his head tipped back to the ceiling as you pulled down his boxers and eagerly licked all the way up his shaft, getting him all wet with your spit. When he’d had enough of your teasing, he put pressure on your head and forced you to take all of him. Not that you minded. A groan left both of you at the same time when the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. You bobbed your head up and down to whatever pace he wanted, controlling you with the grip on your scalp. Messing up your ribbon in the process.

You could hear Rick enter the room, though you didn’t stop looking up at Daryl. Focusing solely on the man in front of you. The one who had never even gotten a real birthday. And when he’d told you that months ago, you decided to do everything you possibly could, to make up for it.

The springs in the mattress squeaked, and you figured Rick was making himself comfortable. Lying back to watch the show. Daryl glanced over at him, already breathing heavy above you.

They shared a look that could only mean one thing, and before you knew it you were being pulled up by your hair and shoved towards the bed, stumbling forward and hitting the mattress with your knees. Looking back at Daryl who gave you a little nod. And then down at Rick, with his one leg bent and splayed open, and his own hand palming at his hard on.

"You think I can share your present, baby? Would that be ok with you?" Daryl asked from behind you, tugging up your dress and pressing himself against your lacy panties. Hands rubbing up and down your sides.

"Anything for the birthday boy. Ain't that right, sweetie?" Rick interrupted, answering for you. As if it wasn’t in his own best interest that he shared.

"Uhuh. Anything," you agreed and turned your head to catch Daryl’s lips, but he only kissed you for a second.

"Good. Now let’s get these panties off." He pushed you onto the bed and your eyes got wide at his demand. Rick smiled at your reaction. You did as you were told, and got on all fours in front of him, all while stripping your panties down to your knees.

Rick brought his hand up to your face, thumb pressing against your bottom lip. A glint in his eyes as you sucked on his thumb, dragging your teeth on the calloused pad.

Behind you, Daryl snagged the delicate lace around your knees and ripped them all the way off, hands coming up to knead at your ass. A sharp smack filling the air before you even registered the stinging skin.

"Ow," you whined out loud at the third smack. Earning a little scowl from the man in front of you.

"It’s his day, sweetheart. Gotta give him whatever he wants."

You nodded in agreement and started at Rick's pants. Daryl toying with your entrance from behind. Dipping down and licking a stripe up your slit from behind. Then moving to bite hard marks into your ass cheeks. You were trying not to groan too much at the pain. Rick was right. You weren’t allowed to complain. This wasn’t about you, it was about Daryl.

"How do you want her?" Rick asked him, over your shoulder. Daryl thought for a moment before deciding on what he wanted. Gently flipping you over so you were essentially sitting in Rick's lap. Rick held your hips up so that his thick cock pressed right between your cheeks.

Daryl grabbed your knees and spread them, situating himself right in front of you, his own cock rubbing against your clit. The whole situation made your pussy throb. You loved being sandwiched between them. It was your absolute fucking favourite. And you knew for a fact, they felt the same way.

"You gonna let us fill you up, baby?" Daryl asked, squeezing your breast over your dress. Rick pulling you down and grinding your ass down onto him.

"Anything you want." You mutter, reminding him of your present. Resting your head back on Rick's shoulder, to allow Daryl better access to your chest and neck. He pulled at the string of your dress untying it and exposing your breasts. He dipped down to nip at your skin. Finally pulling the dress over your head to allow him access at whatever he wanted. When his teeth caught on your nipple, you let out a little cry. Rick's lips brushed your ear while he told you how good of a girl you were being, giving Daryl exactly what he wants. That you are all he wants. All they want. And most importantly, that you’re all theirs.

Both you and Rick could feel your wetness drip down your inner thigh. Using that discovery to his advantage, Rick started rocking you against him until his cock was all slick with your arousal. He lined himself up, and pressed against your asshole. You couldn’t help but gasp a little at the intrusion, even though you knew it was coming. They just couldn’t resist the chance to fill you right up.

You slowly sunk down onto Rick, the familiar burn and stretch of the muscle making you groan.

"You’re turn, Daryl." Rick told his friend as soon as your ass cheeks were flush with his thighs. Completely filled with every glorious inch.

Daryl dipped his fingers in the pool of wetness that was dripping from your cunt, rubbing it around and then dragging his own dick through it. You tried your best to relax as he aligned with your entrance and pushed.

"Ah! Mphmm." You moaned right into Daryl’s neck. Grasping at his shoulders and clawing down his back. Fuck, you were full. It hurt. Every time it happened, it was definitely painful for the first little bit. But quickly they found a rhythm, with Rick fucking you from below and Daryl thrusting nice and slow as he pressed messy, wet kisses to your mouth. Within a few minutes, they turned you into a babbling mess with your sweet spot stimulated from every possible angle. You were trying to tell Daryl how good he makes you feel. How pretty he is and how sexy his arms and chest are. How big his dick felt inside of you. But a soon as he was consistently hitting your cervix, you started to forget the English language and decided to stick your tongue down his throat instead. Rick's hands dug into your hips harder than you knew possible. There would be fingerprints bruised into your skin by tomorrow. Daryl’s hands held the backs of your thighs, opening you up as much as he could. Looking down once in a while at the sight of you being split right open. You could feel him twitch inside of you. You could tell he was close. The tightness and pressure getting the best of all three of you.

"I’m- I-" you couldn’t even finish your sentence, as both men picked up their pace the second they heard your whining confession. Fucking you into adorable little moans, sobs and convulsions. A flood of heat erupting from your core, and shortly after, the feeling of both men’s hips stuttering. Emptying themselves into you. Their cum dribbling out of you as they pulled out gently. And you whining quietly at the new empty feeling. The men quickly maneuvering you onto the mattress so they could watch their contents seep out of both of your holes. They each picked a leg and started to kiss and suck little hickeys on them. Daryl’s fingers came up to drag through their seed, rubbing it all over your clit. You moaned out as he pressed two digits in to your pussy, the sound of all your cum mixing together, and squelching made you tighten around his digits. The men stayed between your legs and gave you two more orgasms. Switching off where one would work with their fingers and the other would kiss you all hot and messy. Molding you into the desperate little mess you usually were.

They only gave you a break while the three of you showered, Rick kissing the water droplets off your shoulder as you massaged some green apple scented shampoo into Daryl’s dark locks. Steam and giggles filling the master bathroom as you all washed up.

"You still wanna watch a movie?" Rick asked while pulling on some sweatpants. Daryl rubbed a towel on his hair as you watched the two get dressed, cross legged on the bed in your cotton boy shorts and Daryl’s favorite shirt.

"We could…" he said with a curious hesitation, "Or… we could make one...?" He suggested, with the smallest hint of shyness in his voice. He was testing the waters. Seeing how much he could he get away with today. Rick let out a dry laugh at your wide eyed gulp. Sympathizing with your poor body. Already sore and covered in love bites. But all three of you knew that no matter what, you weren’t gonna say no to the birthday boy.

(continued here)

#rickyl #smut #rickyl x reader #rick grimes smut #daryl dixon smut #Rickyl smut #twd fanfiction #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x y/n #sinsandsweetness

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xoxo-sarah · 3 days

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The Fair

↝a/n: well this was heart wrenching. ☹️ Why did I decide to write this? I hurt my own feelings with this one, guys.

↝pairing:Daryl Dixon x reader

↝warning: angst, death, season 9 events, Alpha + whispers, the spikes, Daryl never getting his happy ending, it's a bit gruesome ngl, crying, fighting, torture, getting shot, stabbing, self-loathing (Daryl ☹️), more death, not proofread

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl Dixon, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 6.24.24

Daryl Dixon masterlist

The early morning sun shone across the town of Alexandria, although not doing much for how the fall chill nipped at any skin showing.

Daryl glanced up from his spot on the porch, after hearing the door open. You stepped out, face scrunching when the smell of nicotine hit your nose. Daryl simply took in your appearance. Freshly showered, clean clothes, and wet hair knotted into a different style than usual. He took a final puff of the cigarette, before flicking it somewhere off the porch.

As you stepped forward, his hand motioned to your hair, "I tried a different braid. I think it's called a fishtail, I'm not sure though. Needed to practice so I could do something different for the fair." You shrugged, moving to take a seat beside him on the rickety porch steps. His hand raised, feeling the bumps of the braid.

He knew you were excited for the fair, wanting to get out of the walls of Alexandria, and not to do a supply run. You need this; time with friends who feel more like family every day.

Daryl dropped your hair, looking around at the other houses. They were quiet, due to everyone still being asleep. If Daryl hadn't stayed the night, you would probably still be in bed. But you woke up to Daryl, who hadn't slept a wink, due to his stress levels. The whole whisperer thing had him on edge, and it only got worse when Lydia came into the picture. Daryl had been just fine only caring for the people he kept close to him, people who he had known for years. But then came Lydia, who was just a kid. He had needed out; out of Hilltop where Lydia and Henry were. You were his safe space, somewhere he knew he could always go to.

Feeling weight being added to his shoulder, he turned, listening as you whispered into the crisp morning air, almost like talking normally would wake everyone, or disturb the peaceful space of the porch. "She's a good kid. She just doesn't know any better. Alpha, her own mother only taught her survival. It's not Lydia's fault, you know that. Give her time."

"Might not have time." He couldn't help but grumble. He knew you were right, Lydia is a kid. She only knows survival. To an extent, Daryl could relate to her. You lifted your head, looking over his face,

"Maybe, but I have a strong hunch that you have enough time to go wash the stench off of you." Your nose scrunched again, more animated than before.

Daryl rolled his eyes before standing. You watched him as he walked to the door, flipping you off before the door shut behind him. A heavy sigh exited your lips when you knew he was gone.

It had been a little over two days since you last saw Daryl. It's not like you were worried. He could hold his own. Atleast, he could before people who wore the dead's faces were among everyone.

That might have you on edge. Or it might be the fact that he had the thing that Alpha wanted, making him become an even bigger target.

Your fingers divided your hair, twisting it into the same braid from before. Your mind was elsewhere, hands moving without a second thought.

The house that you occupied in Alexandria was quiet. Too quiet. You had grown comfortable with the usual silence, since Daryl had left in search of Rick.

The house you once shared turned into yours, with Daryl only visiting. He never stayed for long. Maybe it was the memories, or something that you had no knowledge of. Either way, you weren't going to push him.

Men like Daryl, once they're pushed too far, they leave. It's like their fight or flight goes off. You weren't one to push.

When Daryl and the little gorup found Lydia, Daryl had to escape for the night, going straight to the familiar house. He had told you everything about the Whisperers and Lydia, how They had killed Jesus. Although her group had killed someone who you could rely on, you pitied Lydia. The moment between you two was short-lived when morning came. After he had taken a shower, he was on his way back. Your time together wasn't much, but it was something. Given the circumstances, it was enough for both of you.

A knock at your door had your trailing thoughts stop, along with your hands. You were quick to tie the braid up, before moving to the door. Daryl stood, shoulders sunk in, along with the bags under his eyes, blood coating his hands. Your eyes met, relief, from seeing him mixed with the concern from seeing the dried blood, ran through your back.

Daryl stood against the kitchen sink, scrubbing his hands together, watching as the water turned red before flowing down the drain. "Henry's hurt." Was the first thing he had uttered since you opened the door, letting him in.

You perked up from where you were perched against the counter, having been watching his movements. "How bad?" He shook his head, letting you know it wasn't life or death, without saying a word.

"Here was closer to get him stitched up. Lydia's with us."

Your eyes traveled over his face, looking for any sign of how he felt about that, and maybe even a hint of how much shit you were all in.

"She's a kid." He sighed, turning the water off as he used your same words from before.

You nodded, hoping he knew that he didn't have to explain himself to you. You trusted him and his instinct.

Now night time, you walked with Daryl and his little group as they got ready to leave. Aaron insisted on walking with you, staying with Daryl as you were in step with Henry and Lydia.

You tried to ask questions that were easy for her to answer, questions that didn't revolve around how she had grown up. Questions that made her feel human, not just a piece in the game of survival.

As your conversation drew to an end, you listened in to Aaron and Daryl, " 'Member way back when I told you, you'd make a great father?" Your eyes traveled to the gravel under you. "You got to skip the exploding diapers part, but I was right."

Henry and Lydia tried to contain their own little conversations, hiding their smiles and blushing from the other. Just two teenagers acting as normal as two teenagers could in the broken world.

Daryl grumbled, "A lot has changed." You felt eyes boring into your back but didn't look. You smiled as you felt Dog rub against your legs, begging for attention. Would you and Daryl be able to be happy in a world like this?

"I stand before you today at the start of a new tomorrow. A tomorrow made possible by the sacrifices of many over the years." After a long ride to the kingdom, you stood amongst the crowd, watching as Ezekiel stood on the balcony, giving one of his infamous speeches.

"Among them, a man whose mission was to build community and strengthen the bonds between us. A man who had to destroy the very thing that connected us in order to save us. It took far too long to fulfill the promise of what Rick Grimes and his son, Carl, envisioned, the same promise Paul Rovia, better known to most as "Jesus", believed in when he brought us all together those many years ago. We always will be. We fought our way back to each other. We have grown. The crossing over the river may be gone, but we have rebuilt a bridge, nonetheless. Today is proof we can unite, not against a common enemy, but for the common good. So eat, drink, and be merry...'cause we got a lotta lost time to make up for."

Jerry stepped forward, a hug grin on his face, "Let the First Annual Inter-Community Reunification Fair begin!"

"Jerry!"

Jerry swung around, looking up at the King.

"We changed that."

"For reals? F. A. I. R. Fair?"

Ezekiel sighed, leaning over the railing to stare down, "It's too many-nevermind. Let the Fair of New Beginnings begin!"

Applause broke out through the crowd, doves being released into the air.

Tara, who stood beside you, nudged your shoulder, directing your attention to the gate of the Kingdom. The gates opened, revealing Michonne- who was set on not coming to the fair- with Judith, Daryl, Connie, Henry, and Lydia in tow.

Your feet moved before you even thought about it, and you were in front of Daryl before you knew it. He opened his arms, welcoming the warmth of your arms around him.

Sure, you had seen him not that long ago, but being apart from him became even scarier over the week. Daryl swayed from side to side, before you pulled away slightly.

Carol came over when you two had fully broken apart, bringing her best friend into her arms.

You smiled, watching the two. After she teased him, she watched as you moved back under his arm, laughing when your lips collided with his cheek, watching Daryl grow shy, his ears turning a pink hue.

"C'mon, I heard there's a fair or something happening." You winked at Ezekiel, as he joined in on watching the two of you, throwing his arm around Carol.

It only took about 15 minutes before the fun was cut short.

"You just got here." you sighed, utterly frustrated. You couldn't have one day that was slightly normal. Somebody always had to be a threat. It just happens to be Alpha's group.

"Hilltop's in danger."

"I know,” You huffed, kicking the asphalt under your feet, stopping when Daryl halted, reaching down to pet Dog's head. "I just think you deserve to have fun too. Or at least let me go with you."

He instantly shook his head, standing at his full height. His eyes slightly squinted as he looked at you, "'T's too dangerous, you know that."

"Exactly. You need more people and you know i'm a good shot." You cracked a smile, trying to ease the tension. Daryl looked away, hiding his slight amusement. "At Least be safe." Your voice was serious, almost threatening. Unwinding your arms, letting them fall to your sides, as he finally looked back. "I mean it, Dixon." He puffed air out, before bringing you into a side hug. You two stood by the gate, not caring as people walked past, trying to get ready to leave with Daryl.

The hug was warm- comforting, too bad you don't get the luxury often. "You too." His gruff voice was muffled in your hair, followed by a dry kiss on your forehead. "Can you take care of Dog for me?" He pulled back, already knowing your answer.

You only got a single nod in before Carol walked over, an apologetic smile on her face about the whole thing; having to interrupt to hint that it was time to go and having to cut your time together short.

Saddiq grunted as Michonne rushed over to his pitiful body. His tired eyes reluctantly raised to look at the people following behind her. As he saw Daryl, the pain felt fresh, like all the wounds were pulled open and dirt was shoved into them. He shook his head, trying to get the picture of your last moment out of his head. Your screams of agony rang in his head. What you made him promise rang even louder. He could only cough when the makeshift gag was ripped from his mouth, waiting as Michonne cut his hands free. "What happened?" Michonne asked.

Saddiq could only point, words dying on his tongue. "I-I..."He stumbled with his feet as much as his words. Michonne held most of his body weight as he tried leading them to the hill.

Michonne's face dropped in horror, as they walked closer, close enough to realize exactly what was in front of them, close enough to identify the heads on the spikes.

All it took was for the wind to pick up, causing the braid to sway in the wind, for Daryl to feel the world stop on its axis. He could only watch as your mouth moved, biting and nipping at the air like a feral animal.

Something that would haunt him forever, the hunger for human flesh taking over the one person he couldn't live without. As you began to let out a growl, he had to turn his head, looking anywhere. He couldn't take the sight, feeling his stomach churn.

You were just in his arms, smiling at him, joking around, wanting to spend the time at the fair with him.

His eyes caught a head of blond hair, his body moving before he could think twice. "No! No!" His hands attached themselves to Carol's shoulders, frantically trying to conceal the gruesome picture before them that would surely give him nightmares, if he was even able to sleep. "Just look at me." His voice broke, but continued to repeat himself.

He watched as her lips pursed, before they began trembling, feeling his own emotions breaking through the comfort-others-before-yourself facade.

His body slowly collapsed with hers, his hold on her not faltering. If he held her tight enough, he might be able to feel the warmth you always radiated in his arms.

Maybe it was selfish to try to find comfort of his own while he was comforting her, but he couldn't help himself. Who was going to comfort him? You?

Daryl wasn't one to cry much, but he felt his eyes begin to burn. Before either of them knew it, their tears mixed together on Daryl's clothes as his grip tightened even more.

"I was there. I was taken with the others. And I saw...I was supposed to die with them. I was ready to." Saddiq stood on the podium, looking out at the crowd of mixed communities, all of which had lost someone dear to them. "Then, Alpha whispered in my ear, "Tell them." Something hit me and everything went black. ANd when I woke up, I was alone." The image of you, tears and blood dried on your face as you laid lifeless. "What happened was evil."

Daryl stood in the very back of the crowd, arms crossed. His own thoughts ran wild, so many 'what if's. What if he had stayed? What if he had let you go with him? What if, what if, what if... Daryl tuned out the rest of the speech, only zoning back in when he felt a shaky hand on his shoulder.

"Y/n..." Saddiq did everything in his power to not let his voice shake, but it was useless. He forced himself to keep eye contact, feeling like he at least owed that, even if his eyes were glossy and his nerves were shot. Daryl had to know. He had to know Saddiq was honest and kept his word for you. "She fought. Hard." The shaky man shook his head.

-flashback-

Siddiq looked around, at the old barn, at the people who stood around wearing the dead’s faces, at his friends and family kneeled down, gagged and tied up.

You stared at the people standing, a fire behind your eyes, that Saddiq had never seen before. He couldn’t recall you even blinking.

As Saddiq watched for you to blink at least once, your eyes shifted from the person you were staring down, to behind them.

It was only a split second before the person you had been staring at was hit in the back of the head.

Ozzy, Alek, and DJ yelled as they swung at each and every masked person. You weren’t sure who untied you, but you didn't have time to see. You were on your feet, punching the closest whisperer to you, picking up the knife that had fallen out of their hands.

Everything turned into a massacre.

You stabbed and swung and stabbed some more. Hearing a yell, you swung around on your feet, grabbing the person holding Enid down, before you grabbed by the back of their shirt, your hands moving fast and with force as the knife punctured the chest repeatedly.

Blinded by rage, you moved on adrenaline.

Large hands grabbed your shoulders, yanking you off of the dead body. You could only watch as a new group of Whispers amerged, and charged at what was left of your group.

Alpha stood in front of you, inspecting you. She moved her hand to your hair, her grin making your blood boil. “Beautiful hair. Shame I have to keep it on your head.” The image of her flashed in your head. The blonde hair, of which you now knew wasn’t real, or wasn’t her actual hair. The thought of her cutting it off of someone made you sick.

She tsked, turning when she saw one of her own push someone into the dirt, their knife raised to strike.

“Stop.” All eyes, including your own, were watching the scene play out. Alpha’s eyes scanned the small barn, bodies littering the ground. “They’re the last two.”

The hands tightened on your arms, but you weren't about to show weakness, not over a few bruises being made. One hand moved to hold you still, as another brought a blade to your neck.

Your nostrils flared, watching as Alpha dragged Saddiq right in front of you, although it didn’t take much force with how his body ached, before she held a knife to his throat too.

“What do you think; should we let them decide on who should die?” Alpha’s words were directed to the man behind you.

Your eyes caught sight of Tara, who laid limp on the ground, blood dripping from her mouth. Clenching your jaw, you looked past Saddiq, straight into Alpha’s soul, or lack thereof, anyway. “Now," Alpha pointed at you, “You’re Daryl’s. I Watched you this morning.” You felt the grip on you tighten even more at the mention of Daryl’s name. “You’re loved by everyone- is he?”

She shifted her crazed eyes to the back of Saddiq’s head. When she didn’t get an answer, she put pressure on the knife, drawing blood.

“Fine!” you croaked, “Fine, kill me. Please, he-he’s important. More than me. Please.”

You turned your attention to the man holding you, “Daryl, he said he beat your ass. Told me all about it. You want to hurt him back, right?” You knew you were playing a dangerous game, but you just hoped they would take it out on you, not Daryl or Saddiq.

Beta growled, his breath becoming erratic, as he looked at Alpha for any signal. He could make one quick move and break your neck, but you knew Alpha wanted you to suffer. She wouldn’t let him have all the fun.

It had to be you. Saddiq had a baby on the way. Rosita had told you, and made you promise to keep it on the down low.

There was a long moment of silence, only the angry hot breath fanning over your head, before you were thrown to the ground, hands tied behind your back again. Alpha made everyone leave, dragging Beta out as he shook in anger, ready to pounce.

When the two were out of earshot, you stared Saddiq down. He began shaking his head, “You can’t-”

“Yes. Yes, I can, Saddiq. Rosita needs you.” The baby needs you, especially in this world. “You have to tell Daryl that none of this was his fault. I know him, he’s going to blame himself and pull away.”

You licked your lips, feeling the dryness and small cracks in the skin. Maybe it was selfish to ask that of him, but it was the only thing you could think of in the moment. You didn’t want your last moments to be thinking of how Daryl will pull away, like he always did when he lost someone. He wouldn’t have you to help him out of it. “Tell him I wouldn't blame him for anything that happened tonight. Please, Saddiq. Please promise me. Just…make sure he’s not so hard on himself. Please-”

A gunshot rang out, followed by your screams. You fell onto your side, blood oozing from the wound on your shoulder. Saddiq’s head swung to where the bullet had come from, Alpha walking back in, handing the gun to Beta as he followed her. Whatever conversation they had had outside left Alpha fuming.

Another scream ripped through your throat when Alpha brought her foot up, putting weight on your open wound. “Why are you so willing to die for him?” She seethed.

“‘Cause that’s what you do for family, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” Angry tears welled in your eyes as you stared up at her from the weird angle.

Your next words were directed to Saddiq, as if you knew what was going to happen next. “ Tell Daryl I love him.”

It all happened so quick. Alpha leaned down, her other hand holding a knife as it dragged across the soft skin of your neck. Your hands fought to move to the blood flowing out of your neck, but were bound behind you. Your mouth moved like a fish out of water, until blood coated the inside of your mouth, painting your teeth red.

Saddiq watched the life drain from your eyes, his brain blank. He felt numb. Alpha walked back over to him, leaning down to whisper in his ear. Before he knew it, everything went black.

“-She wanted you to know that she loved you. I could tell she did. I’m sorry it's not her standing in front of you.” Daryl didn’t reply, much like how he hadn’t uttered a word since Saddiq began talking about you, about your last moment. He walked away, leaving a teary-eyed Saddiq.

The wind was chilly as Daryl and Lydia walked up the hill to where Daryl felt the word stop. The spikes still stood, a reminder that that was Alpha’s territory now.

Darl looked away from Lydia as she kneeled in front of the spike, where Henry’s head had been. He let her have a moment.

“She’s just a kid.” Your voice rang out in his head, a reminder that she was a kid, dealing with the loss of someone who she cared for and who cared for her. Sounds familiar.

His eyes caught sight of the familiar spike, glaring at it with all the hatred in his heart. Blood had soaked in and dried to the wood. Your blood.

He hated the world even more. He hated Alpha, Beta, the fucking whisperers, and the wanted to hate you for being so selfless, but he couldnt get himself to. Most of all, he hated himself for going against your last wish. The guilt would eat him from the inside out and he would let it.

He felt like he deserved it.

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

People who wanted to be tagged: @vaniniweenie @sassysebastian20

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zombiigrll · 2 months

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LONELY ⋆｡°✩ carl grimes x reader .ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 1061 ꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ angst to fluff, swearing, depressed/traumatized reader, reader is glenn and maggies adoptive child, intended lowercase, the walking dead 7x1 spoilers, death mentions, lack of eating, suicidal thoughts, use of y/n .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ ⭑ hi! this is my first time writing and posting anything on tumblr so im sorry if its not the best </3 ive never really done oneshots before either so i dont really know what im doing LMAO hope you still enjoy!

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it was supposed to be an easy run. get maggie to the hilltop and get her help, that's all it was supposed to be. but, of course, nothing could ever be that easy. not for you. the last thing you expected to see, however, was your father-figure getting his skull beaten in, and almost having to witness your boyfriend getting his arm chopped off. you were distressed. you couldn't function properly. you had already lost your family once before at the beginning of the outbreak, and all of those same feelings came back after losing glenn. he had been there for you since the start, saving you from dying with your family. and now he was gone and there was nothing you could do.

you had fallen into a deep depression, similar to the one you had before. you locked yourself in your room, not eating, not drinking, occasionally getting up to use the restroom, but other than that, you were bedridden. you hadn't even changed your clothes from that night. the clothes that were stained in glenns blood. hell, even his blood remained dried across your face. you felt as lonely as ever, but at the same time, you knew you weren't. because every single day you heard knocks at your door. it was carl.

"y/n, please. just open the door. i can help you." he desperately spoke from the other side of the door.

you felt like shit for making him continue to come to your door everyday just for you to stubbornly remain in your room, but it felt like nothing mattered anyways. eventually, he'd give up, right? that's what you thought. "go away." you mumbled just loud enough for him to hear. "just open the door. please." he begged again. he understood your struggles. he was aware of why you were acting this way, and he couldn't blame you. he knew how it felt to lose family members and people close to him. unfortunately enough for him, you stayed where you were, not opening the door for him yet again. but after almost a week had passed, he began getting more worried. he begged at your door for you to open it, he tried opening it himself but you had locked the door, blocking it as well so no one could enter. you didn't care. you were isolating yourself, barely sleeping. the only times you slept were when you cried so hard you fell asleep. you felt miserable. you were giving up on everything, hoping one day it'd all just end and you wouldn't have to worry anymore. you wouldn't have to worry about anyone else dying, because you'd be with them. no more funerals, no more fighting for your life... you laid awake on your bed, tears silently falling from your eyes as you stared blankly at your ceiling, those terrible thoughts swirling through your brain. but this night was different. you had opened your window, which carl took as the perfect opportunity. he was tired of not being able to help you due to your stubbornness, so he decided to crawl through your window. *thump!*

you quickly jolted up at the sound, staring at carl who was slowly sitting back up after not-so-gracefully falling into your room. he grabbed his hat and placed it back on top of his head before looking over at you. you stared at him with tears glazing over your eyes, your face scrunching up as you brought a hand to your mouth. "i..." you were speechless. your emotions got the better of you and you began sobbing. he quickly walked over to you, cupping your face with his hands as he looked down at you sympathetically. "don't cry..." he softly spoke, but his eyes quickly noticed the dried blood that was still on your face. "y/n..." "i-i'm s.. sorry." you sobbed, averting your eyes as you crossed your arms around your waist. he shook his head as he softly acknowledged your beat-up appearance, moving your arms from covering your waist as he pulled you in for a big hug. "don't be sorry."

you quickly returned the hug, squeezing him tightly as you sobbed into his chest. he broke from the hug, looking back down at you and your bloodstained clothes. "let's go get you cleaned up, yeah?"

you silently nodded. he helped you stand up and you almost fell over, but he quickly caught you. "...let's get you something to eat, too." ... the two of your were now in the bathroom. he helped you sit down on the seat of the toilet before grabbing a rag, getting it wet before walking back over to you. "this is gonna be really cold." he smiled warmly, slowly bringing the rag up to your face and wiping the blood off. you flinched slightly at the touch. as he's cleaning your face, his face turns a bit perplexed. "why... why didn't you open the door?"

you avert your eyes to the ground as you begin messing with your hands. "i just wanted to be alone, i don't know." carl looks at you with a bit of a somber gaze before continuing to clean you up. "i'm sorry for breaking in. i was worried about you. just... please, don't do that again. if you ever need help, i'm here. you know that, right?" "i know..." you looked up at him. "i didn't want you to see me like this. i..." you began tearing up again as you spoke. he quickly sets the rag down and puts both his hands on your cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears. "i know, i know. it's okay." shortly after, he pulled you in for a quick kiss, his hands remaining on your face as he pulled away. he uses one of his hands to wipe away the stray strands of hair over your face, tucking them behind your ear. "you're so pretty. you know that, right?" he smiled warmly. "i love you." you laughed with a smile, a tear rolling down your cheek. "i love you, too." "let's go get you some new clothes, okay? and some food. i'll make you whatever you want." carl asks, grabbing both your hands. you nod, standing up in sync with him as you followed him back to the room. god, you were so lucky to have him. ─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

#🌙 — maxines fics #the walking dead #carl grimes #twd #carl grimes x reader #carl x reader #carl grimes one shot #twd x reader #twd imagine #the walking dead oneshot #the walking dead imagine #twd fluff #twd angst #fluff #angst #carl grimes x y/n #carl x y/n

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hidtired · 3 months

Text

A Single Punch [Part 2]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Description: The aftermaths to the line up leaves you with serious injury. With most of the group to believe you dead. How will your recovery go at Hilltop? How will people react to seeing you?

2.6k words

Warnings (much angst, injury, near death, depression, recovery, typical walking dead shenanigans) [happy ending… eventually]

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Your POV

The steady hum and rocking of the truck bed is what woke you from unconsciousness. The wind ripping around you. It was hard to breathe. Even more so when you realized that you were next to two bodies, presuming that they used to be your friends. What had happened again? A bat? Line of your family being chosen for death. You were one of those chosen. The thought of "I'm alive." While not necessarily feeling like it. You were alive. Your body moving on it own slapping the back of the truck with your bloody hand. Bloody and very broken if the sharp pain sent threw you didn't tell you anything.

The sharp pain making you groan and rolling into yourself. A wheeze still in your lungs. You felt like you were spinning. The loud bang of the tail gate making you jump. Everything felt wrong something is wrong.

"I can't, please it hurts."

Sasha flinched when you spoke. Believing for a second she dreamt it. But your small whimpering and sobs made her drop closer to you. "Y-your still alive- I don't-" Your face and hair were covered in your own blood. Not knowing the location its coming from. Sasha pulling herself together after the initial shock. She turned to Maggie who stood wobbly and in shock seeing you trying to move and talk. Your speech was becoming incomprehensible now. Sasha slipped off a layer of clothing to hold to your head. She turned back to Maggie again, ''Go get back into the car!" Sasha felt you go still again. She had to move fast. Jumping over the side of the truck closing the tailgate. She was not letting Negan have you to.

Days later...

You opened your eyes groggy and confused. Looking over to see Maggie in a bed herself. You try and move your hand up to remove something blocking your right side of your head. Expect your hand stopped bounded to the bed. Maggie heard you move and slowly approached you, "Shh, your safe." This wasn't your first time awake but it was the first that you were more aware.

"W-wha?" Your speech was slurred. But Maggie saw it in your eyes. For the first time she saw you in them. She sniffled, "Y/n thank goodness. I thought you were..." She shook her head and put a hand to your shoulder. "I'll be right back ok? I need to get the doctor?" You simply tried to look at her face trying to gauge what was wrong. She sped out the room leaving you to stare out after her.

She came rushing back into the room with a man. He was speaking to fast at you but they were questions asking your name and if you knew where you were. The man shined a light in your face. You tried to look away from the light because it hurt. You looked at the man with squinted eyes, "H-errrs-sel?" You looked back to Maggie with a questioning look. Only to get a sad look back. Sasha then came through the door in a haste hearing you were awake again.

"Is she doing any better?" She huffed out of breath. The man you had zero clue about simply looked back to you and sighed. "It looks like the swelling in her brain is reducing. I don't know the extent of the brain damage she will have, but her chances of survival just increased." Maggie sighed with the first bit of good news about you. Tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. She smiled at you. You with having no clue what's going on simply mirrored her back with your own smile. You try and raise your other hand but not feeling it at all you look down to see your arm in a cast and bound close to your chest.

The man who you couldn't place, doctor man, started talking again. "Its only been 2 days, for that much time she is doing better then I could have ever imagined. I think she may have taken most of the blow to her hand. However, head trauma is always unpredictable." They jumped at the sound of your gasp looking at you to see what was wrong. You were just looking at Maggie looking her up and down.

"Ba-baby?!" Maggie moved closer to you and started to try and sooth your worry. "Is fine, the baby and me are ok." You relax back into your sheets. Dr. Carson simply studied you. "I would like someone to be with her at all times now. She could have a stroke or start seizing. She still needs to be bound to the bed for all are safety. If she is still awake in a hour try having her eat or drink." Maggie and Sasha both nodded and looked at each other giving a determined look.

Few hours later you were still awake having to be reminded to 'keep your eyes open' and 'need to stay awake.' You would ask things, try to at least. Most of what you said didn't make sense to anyone but you. The worst was the look on your face remembering about something or someone that was lost along the way. When you were asking about a baby you were meaning Lori and Judith. You knew something with a baby was wrong and that was the only one you could think of until Maggie said that her and her baby was ok that you remembered.

The longer you were awake you would get better minimal but still better. But you began asking for something they couldn't give you.

"Dar-ryl?" They always try to come up with something. 'he is on a run' or 'he is out hunting.' But that didn't stop the want for him. You were frustrated at the broken bits of your brain. You knew Daryl always put those pieces together.

Daryl POV

His cell was cold, dark, and always seemed to have one song playing on loop. It was torture. Not however as much torture then the loss of you was. He never knew the kind of love she gave him. She was a first, and now last. The pain in his shoulder and face from the beating he has gotten were nothing like the one in his heart, his soul. That night replayed over in his head. He thought about how he deserved to have gotten killed not Glenn. He cause Maggie to be a single mother now. He deserved this. Being here.

He thought back to when Rick lost Lori. He didn't understand then. But sure as hell did now.

The door handle started to move, the music cutting off, assuming he was getting the normal moldy bread and dog food. Dwight walked in throwing the food down to the floor. "The sooner you join the sooner this will stop." Daryl all but chuckled, "and what become like you?" Now that pissed Dwight off, striking a nerve. But Daryl lead on more, "I get it. Your doing it for someone else. But I don't have that anymore." Daryl sent a look that could kill. Dwight only studied him and shook his head at him. Throwing two polaroid to the floor, "Someone else doesn't have that anymore either." Before slamming the door shut. The music came on but then changed to a more somber tune.

Daryl hesitated to pick up the pictures before doing so and seeing the images with the smallest light coming from under the door. Yours and Glenn's bodies. His breath hitched looking at it. You the women he loved and a friend who would still be alive with his wife and child if he never existed. He lost it. Sobbing. Broken.

He made a promise to not just you but himself that he was going to do right by you. He still had a mission. By the end of it this place will be burning to ground. Even if he had to go with it.

Maggie POV

After having to deal with a man like Gregory she needed to clear her head before it was her turn to sit with you. Making her way over to were Glenn and Abraham were buried. She was met by Enid staring down to the graves.

''Enid?" She walked over to the young teen and hugged her. Enid sniffled before explaining why she was there, wanted to see if she and the baby were ok. Enid gestured to the two graves. "I didn't know which one was his." Enid the paused, "Why is there only two, where is the third?"

With that Maggie smiled and waved her hands to come follow her. Enid was confused at the action. They stepped into Jesus trailer were they all have taken over at this point. There Enid saw you, she gasped in surprise and disbelief at the sight of you. You jumping at the noise. Breaking your focus from a card game that was to help your memory. Also keeping you distracted. Sasha sitting next you surprised to see Enid, "Are you with the others?" Enid shook her head while approaching your table. "How is this possible..." She sat down across from you. You simply stared back but continued with your cards pointing to one for Sasha to flip. You were struggling with mobility.

Sasha sighed catching the hint and continued flipping cards for you to match. Enid looked at you more closely. Your face was still swollen and was a mix of purples, blues, and yellows. The top to the right of your head had a part of your hair shaved with stitching. You looked pale. Your speech has gotten better but you were just to tired to speak much. It showed in your eyes. You still had your arm in a cast brought close to your chest by a sling. Watching Enid study you Maggie decided to add some insight. "We didn't know she was alive until half way to Hilltop. Didn't know if she would make it even a few days after."

Enid look to you with pity. She saw how sick you were even before leaving Alexandria. At least that seemed to be better. Maggie cleared her throat, "How is everything back at Alexandria."

Enid explained about how they took and trashed everything back home. Maggie could only scowl at the thought of them. At the mention of how they brought Daryl with them and he looked to not be doing to well but still alive. You had looked up and just stared intently, "He ok?" With you gaining some abilities back it was harder to lie about what happened. You had yet to know of his capture and Glenn's death. It was only a matter of time before you found out.

Your mind seemed to be other wise fine. Most of the trouble was how it was trying to move your body. Walking was going to need to be learned again. When you got your right hand back writing and holding things as well. Nothing time couldn't fix. Maggie was the person to mostly look after you. You were a welcome distraction from her mind.

Later that day was when you said something that shook her. To see your mind healing and remember. You were just staring out the window while the sun started to set.

"I was a mercy kill."

You went to sleep shortly after. It was probably time to tell you the truth. Before you could think of all the worsts before hand.

Your POV

Being woken up by Jesus pulling you out of bed with haste and to carry you and hide you under the trailer was not what you were expecting. He was saying 'their here' and 'need to stay here and be silent.' You were laying under the trailer in dirt. It was finally catching up to what had happen just then. You didn't know all the things you probably should but you knew it would come naturally. While you lay there waiting for Jesus to tell you it was safe you remember that a few days ago you thought he was the literally Jesus for a second longer then you would like to admit.

You saw men taking things all around you. These were the asshole who did this to you. You remember when you woke up in the back of the truck. Two bodies beside you. You knew one was Abraham but didn't have the guts to ask who the other was. You just couldn't handle it at the moment. Others thought that to if they didn't say anything about it.

You were starting to get cold. But you saw that the men were leaving now. When the men were gone you don't think you could get out of there by yourself if you tried. When a group of people were quickly making your way over to you, you sighed ready to get up out the dirt. It was Maggie's voice you first heard. She sounded like she was panicking, "Did you hide her? Where is she?" She sounded to be directing this to Jesus. Then you heard a voice that surprised you, "What? Hide who?" It was Rosita. They got closer to you before Jesus spoke and lent down to were he put you. "She's ok, I put her here."

Jesus start to pull you out revealing who you were to Rosita. You just popped out being dragged by under your arms. "Hi" She gasped and lent down to help pick you up off the floor. "Your still alive..." she looked about ready to cry. You smiled, "Damn r-right I am." You would have had more trouble standing if Jesus wasn't helping but also leaning into Rosita while hugging you helped. It was Sasha who came to help you back to your bed while the others talked some more.

It was later that evening eating dinner when everybody was in Jesus's trailer. Everyone was talking while you stared at your left hand trying to move it to the best of your ability. Your body felt like it had latency that's why is was so hard to do anything. You and Maggie were now on your own with them taken Dr. Carson. You sighed and looked around you decided it was time. You needed to know.

"What happened that day..."

It went quiet before all eyes went to you. It was Maggie who first tried to start but Rosita cut in. "What do you remember." You bit your lip and look off into the distance. "Seeing what happened to Abraham, I was struggling to breath... I remember the feeling of the bat. I didn't pass out as soon as it hit me. I froze. Played dead even." You paused before sucking in a breath, your voice was still slow and looked to take a lot of focus to do, because it did.

"I woke up next to two bodies..."

Now is when Maggie spoke, "Daryl had punched Negan after he hit you." You sucked in a breath and held it. "He tried to kill you unprovoked, I don't blame Daryl." She looked into your eyes. "Negan killed Glenn." The air in your lungs released and a shaky hand came to cover your mouth, tears filling your eyes. The room was silent for a moment before she spoke again. "Daryl punched him and distracted him from you. Negan would have kept swinging at you." You closed your eyes to soak in the information. You were alive at Glenn's expense. "There's more." You opened your eyes to look at her.

"They took Daryl as there prisoner."

Part 3

Feedback welcomed and requests open!

Reunions coming next part :)

Also little disclaimer I’m really dyslexic so sorry with grammar or spelling that is messed up!

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #norman reedus #angst #fluff #happy ending

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ichorai · 1 year

Text

sorry ; daryl dixon.

track three of BROKEN MACHINE.

pairing ; daryl dixon x doctor!reader (gender neutral pronouns)

synopsis ; you were on your knees, and daryl was too. he wouldn’t look at you—he couldn’t—terrified that negan would bring that bat down on your head if he noticed.

words ; 7.9k

themes ; heavy angst, mild action, doctor au

warnings / includes ; death and violence, negan at his worst, vulgar language, guns/weapons, descriptions of injury/blood, mentions of maggie's pregnancy, negan goes on long ass monologues, poor rick is going Through it, the walking dead s6-7 spoilers (fic starts right at the season six finale), mild sexual dialogue from negan

main masterlist.

Maggie hummed with discontent when you pressed a cold, damp cloth to her forehead. There was a pallid color to her skin, and her temperature was beginning to rise, despite her violent shivers beneath the blanket. The inconsistent, rocking motions of the RV weren’t doing her any favors, either.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you to Hilltop real soon,” you said, feeling mildly guilty that you couldn’t help her more, despite being a doctor yourself. Alexandria was completely out of medical supplies and this was urgent—if Maggie didn’t get help soon… you’d never be able to forgive yourself if something bad were to happen to her or the baby. “Hang on for me, okay?”

The brunette slanted her lips in a tired smile, eyelids heavy.

Rick knelt down beside you, speaking in a low, comforting tone. “We’re gonna get there. Once we get the medicine from Hilltop, Y/N will fix you right up.”

A small sigh fell from her pale, trembling lips. A thin film of tears warbled over her eyes. She was terrified.

“Oh, Maggie,” you murmured, gently pulling away the short strands of hair sticking to her face.

“How do you know?” muttered your friend, gaze trained on the ex-cop.

“Everything we’ve done… we've done it together. We got here together and we’re still here. Things have happened, but it’s always worked out for us, ‘cause it’s always been all of us. That’s how I know. As long as it’s all of us helpin’ you, we can do it.”

A hot tear meandered down Maggie’s cheek. You nodded gratefully at Rick—he’d always had a way with words that you’d never really gotten a grasp of.

The next hour passed by slowly. You switched between cooling her head, and helping her drink some water, sometimes just holding her hand and telling her that everything was going to be fine. To take her mind off the pain, she’d asked you to tell her about how you and Daryl met, all those years ago long before the dead began to walk.

“I’m glad Daryl’s not here right now, because he always tells the story differently than I do. Well, how I remember it, he and his dick brother used to come to a small convenience store near their trailer park. That’s where I worked. I was around… nineteen at the time? Almost twenty. I was just working a couple jobs on the side to pay off my growing student debt. Daryl was twenty-three, almost twenty-four. Merle tried to cozy up to me—and I didn’t have any of that. I told him to fuck right off. And later that night, just as I was to close up, Daryl came by and apologized on his brother’s behalf. He was real sweet, so I—”

“What the bitch?” barked Abraham from the driver’s seat, effectively cutting your story short and rolling the RV to a grueling halt.

“What?” asked Rick, standing up to look out the window. You followed suit, eyes widening upon the sight.

More than half a dozen Saviors blocking the road with three of their cars—and all of them holding large guns. A lump formed in your throat, and you cast your worried gaze to Rick.

“We goin’ through?” asked Abraham, jaw set.

Rick gnashed his jaw together in thought. “No,” he said. “We’ll talk to them. C’mon. Y/N, you stay here, watch over Maggie.”

Teeth worrying into your bottom lip, you nodded, stepping to the side to let the rest of them file out of the RV, their own loaded guns at the ready.

From inside, you couldn’t hear what the Saviors were saying, but from the smug expression of the one in the center with a hideous pornstache, you knew it couldn’t be anything pleasant for your group.

Three minutes later, they came back in, all looking a bit disgruntled. Rick, most of all.

“What’s going on?” you asked Carl, placing a hand on his forearm.

The young man that you were so fond of grimaced, shaking his head and lowering his voice to a whisper so that Maggie couldn’t overhear. “They won’t let us through. Want half our stuff.”

Your breath hitched. At this rate, you didn’t know how long Maggie could last without the proper care and medicine. And Alexandria was running low on supplies as it is—taking away half of everything would put the community in a pretty dire situation.

“Alright, thanks kid,” you told him, trying your absolute best not to cry from frustration, your nose burning with the effort.

The truck began to pull further away from the Saviors, until they were only but little dots against the horizon.

“Logrun Road’s a straight shot,” said Eugene, repeatedly tapping his finger against the map spread out across the RV’s pull-out table.

Next to you, Sasha shook her head. “We want visibility.”

You pursed your lips, craning your neck to scan the small, faded texts of the map. “Can we go down Shelton?”

Eugene hummed in agreement, drawling out in his thick Southern accent, “Golf course, country clubs, sloping terrain—no bum rush from the bogeymen. We’d see ‘em from a good piece. It is a longer trip by a third but we’d get the scenic safety of clear-cut dingles and glens.”

Both you and Sasha stared at him blankly.

“You’re being serious, right?” asked Sasha.

“As coronary thrombosis,” replied the man across from you, stony-faced. Besides, Eugene was never one to joke around.

Sasha rounded her gaze to you expectantly, waiting for you to explain in normal terms. “He’s serious,” you said. “It’s a longer route, but it’ll be well-sheltered and hopefully keep us hidden from the Saviors. I’ll try to keep Maggie steady until then.”

The two nodded at you, and you pushed away from the table, heading further back into the RV where Maggie and Rick were. She was pale and clammy, but still had enough energy to talk to you, so you took that as a good sign.

Not even ten minutes later, while you were taking measurements of her blood pressure and body temperature, the vehicle came to another rumbling halt.

“Bitch nuts,” cursed Abraham, loudly for both you and Rick to hear.

The Saviors were blocking the road. Again.

You could feel panic seize about your chest, constricting your lungs. The situation wasn’t looking good for Maggie, not one bit—but you couldn’t give up hope. Not now, when she needed you the most. You blew out a shaky breath, absentmindedly wishing Daryl was here with you to give you some comfort of mind.

“We making our stand?” asked Sasha, staring out of the window, where more than a dozen saviors were lined up.

Carl, ever the fiery one, spat out, “Yeah. We end this.”

The blue of his father’s eyes flashed dangerously. “No. Not now. It’s too dangerous for Maggie. They’ve been waiting—they’re ready. We ain’t. With one of us behind the wheel, and Y/N with Maggie, that’d be five on sixteen. We’re gonna play it our way. How we want it.”

Reluctant, Carl nodded.

Slowly, the RV started backing away. Three successive, warning gunshots were fired into the air. You could feel a sick, twisted rage curl up within your stomach.

If Maggie died on your watch—her blood would be on the hands of the Saviors.

You fumbled for another map pinned up on the cork board, eyes roaming over the roads, desperate for another available route. Could they possibly have you surrounded? No—the woods were vast, and the roads were winding—there were so many paths left to take to Hilltop. The Saviors simply wouldn’t have the numbers to stop you.

Wouldn’t they?

The RV came to another stop. This time, there were no Saviors blocking the road, but instead, a line of chained-up walkers. Not wanting to risk damaging the RV by driving through them, the rest of the group filed out to check if the coast was clear. You told Maggie you’d be right back, before hopping out of the RV, lingering by the doorway to narrow your gaze at the restrained walkers.

“That’s Michonne’s,” breathed out Carl, his single eye widening. A lock of her hair was stapled against the center walker’s forehead.

Horror, as black as tar itself, seeped into your chest when you glanced over to the next snarling form, just to see two of Daryl’s arrows embedded into its decaying stomach. Daryl always retrieved his arrows. Which meant… something had happened to him.

“That’s Daryl’s,” you said, loud enough for Rick to hear. “Oh, no, Rick… they did this on purpose. They knew we were coming this way—!”

Just as Rick was about to cleave his axe into the walker’s skull, ricocheting gunfire crackled into the ground, making the dried leaves flutter up with the sudden force, plumes of dust and smoke flying with each bullet.

“Get back to the RV! Go!” yelled Rick. You scrambled up the steps and ran to a concerned Maggie, trembling as you carefully hovered over her, in case any bullets pierced through the walls and accidentally hit her. Carl and Sasha began shooting blindly into the woods, having not a clue where all the shots were coming from. Rick surged forward and thrust his axe down onto one of the walker’s rotting arms, effectively leaving a gap open for the RV to drive through.

The rest of the group rushed inside, and Abraham practically threw himself into the driver’s seat to get the RV moving.

The shots died away after a few minutes. With shallow, inconsistent breaths, you slid off of Maggie, slumping down beside her. She croaked out a question, but it fell upon deaf ears, ringing with static and white noise. A warm tear fell from your burning eyes, and you quickly brushed it away with the back of your palm.

Something happened to Daryl. And it was killing you that you couldn’t help him. That you didn’t even know where he was.

You looked out the window through a watery film of tears, watching the yellow-green fields pass by in a blur. A quick glance at the lowering sun told you that the group was going to lose daylight soon enough, as well.

A strange, creaking noise was coming from below the RV.

“What’s that sound?” said Sasha, worried.

“Undercarriage could’ve caught a bullet,” replied Eugene. “Could be transmission. Could be nothing.”

Agitated, Rick growled out, “They were firing at our feet. They blocked the road, but they weren’t trying to stop us.”

“They want us in this direction,” you murmured, making his wild gaze swivel to you. You gestured to the map. “Rick, they know we’re coming. They know we wanna go North.”

“Meadows would take us East a piece,” said Eugene, “but we can get back on track on Mayhew.”

It would take too long, you thought. Maggie doesn’t have the strength to carry on anymore.

Shaking her head, Sasha said, “We’re down to a third of a tank—we could top off at the next stop, but it’s risky. We can’t have any refills after that.”

A low moan fell from Maggie’s pale lips as a wave of pain washed over her, moving in and out of a hazy unconsciousness. You were quick to check her temperature, blanching at the fact that she was nearly scalding to the touch. You quickly placed the damp cloth to her skin again, trying your best to keep her temperature down.

“Rick, she’s burning up,” you told him, voice thick with worry.

It was then that the RV came to another stop.

This time, there were more saviors—around three dozen, maybe even four.

“Go back,” said Rick, eyes wide and stress evidently painted across his strained features.

Abraham squared his jaw. “We have nowhere to go back to.”

With a shaky breath, you stroked Maggie’s head, your heart shattering into millions of pieces. “I’m sorry, Maggie,” you said, a sob bubbling in your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry—I wish I could do something, I’m sorry.”

Disoriented and not having heard a word of your apologetic babbling, Maggie croaked out, “Are we there yet?”

More tears slipped down your cheeks. Rick was by your side, placing one hand on your shoulder and the other on Maggie’s arm. You stifled your sobs with your palm, and Rick replied in your stead.

“Yeah, Maggie. We’re—we’re getting there.”

The woman’s eyelids fluttered lethargically. “Were there… I heard shots.”

Rick’s expression softened. “Yeah, the Saviors—they’re gone now. We’re gonna get you there.”

A ghost of a smile tilted the corner of Maggie’s lips up. “I know.”

“You’ll be okay,” you told her, sniffling. “The baby’s going to be okay. This isn’t the end.”

“There’s more,” agreed Rick. “There’s gonna be more, I promise.”

A beat of silence.

“I believe in you, Rick,” she hoarsely said. Maggie’s gaze slowly moved from Rick to you. “In both of you.”

Maggie was asleep again. You made sure to give her plenty of water and what was left of the antibiotics you had saved—but that was the very last bit of supply you had. There was little else you could do for her other than getting her to Hilltop for the proper medicine and treatment she needed.

“So what’s the play?” asked Abraham. “They’ve cut us off every turn we made.”

“She needs medicine,” said Rick, desperation lacing each word. “She’ll die without it.”

“We only have two plausible routes North from here. They’ve cornered us,” Sasha whispered, gaze trained on the map.

Hopelessness laid uneasy on all of your shoulders.

“They’re probably waiting for us right now,” said Aaron.

Eugene gritted his teeth. “So, they’re ahead of us. Heck, probably even behind us. But they’re not waiting on us, per se—they’re waitin’ on this rust bucket. They don’t know the moment-to-moment occupancy of said rust bucket. And the sun sets soon.”

“We need to leave now if we want Maggie to make it to Hilltop,” you said, voice trembling with a myriad of guilt, anger, and frustration. “We carry Maggie, and we go on foot. Through the woods. They can’t block us there.”

Eugene took the RV in hopes of tricking the Saviors. Everybody else in the group set off into the woods, taking turns carrying Maggie on the makeshift stretcher, bundled under two layers of blankets. The sun had long set, and the whispering winds were cold this time of year.

“Just let me walk it,” she rasped, voice scratchy and throat dry.

“No,” you were quick to reply. “You’re in no condition to walk right now, Maggie. It’s only a few more miles. Just rest up a bit more, okay?”

Though she didn’t look happy, Maggie didn’t protest any further, letting her tired eyes slip shut once more.

After a couple more minutes, Aaron stepped in to carry one end of the stretcher for you, telling you that you also needed to rest your arms for a second. With a grateful nod, you reluctantly let go, falling into stride with Carl.

“Are you okay?” the young man asked, his hand brushing yours, his nonverbal way of saying that he was here for you if you needed him. “I’m sure Daryl and Michonne are fine. They’re fighters. Maggie’s going to be fine, too.”

You sent him a fond, but tired smile. “Yeah, I hope so, kiddo,” you told him, cuffing his shoulder affectionately. The thought of Daryl out there, probably worried sick for you as well, made your stomach twist into knots. “I really hope so.”

It was at that moment, a shrill whistle sounded out from the darkness of the forest. The group halted in their tracks. One by one, more whistles were added to the ear-splitting melody. It sounded like there were dozens, if not a hundred voices surrounding you.

“Go!” yelled Rick. “Go!”

The rest of you broke out in a sprint, and you grabbed Carl’s hand, winding around tree trunks and hopping over overgrown roots, ignoring the stinging scrapes of twisting branches against your face.

The whistling only continued, growing louder, louder, louder—

Until you came face to face with the source itself.

Car lights suddenly flashed open, momentarily blinding you. You drew Carl closer to you, instinctively protecting him, but it was no use. They had your group surrounded. Saviors, hundreds of them, gathered around you with leering expressions. All of them were clutching guns.

Raw fear curled around your lungs when you saw Eugene on his knees not too far from you, tears dripping down his face.

Rick looked destroyed. Devastated.

You were shaking so hard that your knees began to buckle beneath you.

Finally, the whistling began to dwindle away.

From the crowd, stepped out a familiar face—the man with a hideous pornstache that stopped the RV on the initial route.

“Good,” he called out. He swept his arms out in a faux inviting gesture. “You made it. Welcome to where you’re going—because you ain’t goin’ anywhere ‘til we’re done with you. We’ll take your weapons.”

When he pointed a gun straight at Maggie, you immediately did as he said, pulling out the pistol wedged in your belt. There was a knife inside your boot, but you weren’t too keen on giving that up yet. You tossed your pistol on the ground just as Abraham threw down his rifle. The rest of the group followed suit.

Trembling, Rick spat out, “We can talk about this—”

“We’re done talking,” interrupted Pornstache. “Okay. Get her down, and let’s get you all on your knees. Lots to cover.”

“She can’t,” you snarled, stepping in front of Maggie protectively. “She’s sick, she can’t—”

“Oh, she’ll be far worse than just sick if you don’t get her on her knees,” the man easily rebutted, eyes roaming over your protective form.

Lips trembling, you turned around, and with Abraham on her other side, you helped Maggie limp off the stretcher and gently set her down on her knees. Your eyes glistened and warbled with unshed tears. Maggie could only shake her head, as if telling you that it wasn’t your fault.

Terrified, Rick glanced around at the rest of the group. He’d failed you. All of you.

“Gonna need you on your knees, sweetheart,” said Pornstache, slowly dragging the end of his gun up your cheek with a salacious grin.

With a withering glare, you sank down beside Maggie, Rick on your left side, breathing haggard and lips quaking. Sasha and Abraham followed suit. Carl was the last, fists clenched by his sides.

“Dwight!” whistled Pornstache. “Chop chop! Bring out the others!”

A blonde man with half of his face horribly marred by what looked to be a severe burn injury, stepped forward, yanking open the back of a truck.

And, to your horror, he dragged out your boyfriend, covered in blood—blood that you could only pray wasn’t his, even though you knew deep down that that was only wishful thinking. Following Daryl was Michonne, Rosita, and Glenn, equally distraught.

Daryl caught your eye for a brief second, pure terror within his irises. He looked over you to make sure that you were alright, and you did the same with him, a tear slipping down your cheek.

I love you, you mouthed to him. He dipped his head once in understanding, before forcing his gaze away, not wanting to give the Saviors anymore reason to torture either of you.

“Maggie…?” Glenn painfully rasped once he caught sight of his wife in such a state. He tried to make his way to her, but the Saviors grabbed his arms and forced him down, guns digging harshly into his back.

“Alright!” exclaimed Pornstache. “We got a full boat! Let’s meet the man, eh?”

He knocked twice on the door to the RV you were in not even an hour ago.

The door slowly swung open, squeaking on its hinges.

And out strode a tall man clad in a leather jacket, a bat covered in barbed wire hanging off his shoulder. He took his sweet time making his way towards the group, feet languidly dragging along the gravelly dirt, and a smirk accentuating his smug expression.

“Pissing our pants yet?” he drawled, voice tapering into a light chuckle as he stepped out into the light, smiling down at your group on your knees. “Boy, do I have a feeling we’re gettin’ close. Mm, yeah—it’s gonna be pee-pee pants city here real soon. Now which one of you pricks is the leader?”

Pornstache pointed at Rick. “It’s this one here.”

The man with the bat grinned wider, before stepping right in front of Rick, who craned his neck to glare up at him. “Hi there. You’re Rick, right? I’m Negan. And I do not appreciate you killin’ my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people… you killed more of my people. Not cool, man. Not cool. You have… no fuckin’ idea how not cool that shit is. But I think you’re gonna be up to speed shortly. Mmh, yeah. You are so gonna regret crossin’ me in a few minutes. Yes, you are.” A dangerous, wolfish grin flashed across Negan’s face. “You see, Rick, whatever you do, no matter what—you don’t mess with the new world order. And the new world order is really very simple. So, even if you’re stupid, which you may very well be, you can understand it. You ready? Here goes—pay attention.”

He lowered his bat off his shoulder and slotted the barbed end right below Rick’s chin. You held in your breath, your entire body wracking with tremors. Though you knew you needed to stop, you couldn’t help but chance glances at Daryl every so often, your concern for him rapidly growing. Some of that was his blood, it had to be—his eyes were sunken with exhaust and his chest, the very chest you would fall asleep on every night, was rising and falling unevenly, making you believe he was hurt, but you just couldn’t see what was hurting him.

“Give me your shit… or I will kill you. See? Simple as that.” Negan pulled the bat away from Rick, and began walking around the group as he spoke. “Today was career day. We invested a lot so you would know who I am and what I can do. You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me. That’s your job. Now, I know that is a mighty big, nasty pill to swallow. But swallow it, you most certainly will! You ruled the roost. You built something, Rick. You thought you were safe, I get it. But the word is out. You are not safe. Not even close. In fact, you are pegged—more pegged if you don’t do what I want. And what I want is half your shit. If that’s too much, you can make, find, or steal more, and it’ll even out sooner or later. This is your way of life now. The more you fight back, the harder it will be. So, if someone knocks on your door… you let us in. We own that door. You try to stop us? And we will knock it down. You understand?”

Rick swallowed heavily. Narrowing his keen eyes, Negan cupped his ear and leaned down closer to the kneeling man.

“What? No answer? You don’t really think that you were going to get through this without being punished, now, did you? I don’t want to kill you people. I just wanna make that clear from the get go. I want you to work for me—and you can’t do that if you’re dead, now, can you? I’m not growin’ a garden. But you killed my people—a whole damn lot of ‘em! More than I’m comfortable with, honestly. And for that… for that you’re gonna pay.”

Your hands curled into fists on your knees. You knew what was coming. And you’d be damned if you were going to let it happen.

“So, now… I’m gonna beat the holy hell outta one of you.” Negan inhaled sharply, as if he enjoyed prolonging the torture. He bent down once more, showing off the barbed bat. “This right here—this is Lucille. And she is awesome. All this… all this is just so we can pick out which one of you gets the honor!”

Negan stopped in front of Abraham, who straightened and glared defiantly at the smirking man. In thought, Negan subconsciously rubbed his bearded jaw with one hand at the sight of Abraham’s own mustache. “Huh. I gotta shave this shit.”

On he strolled, before halting in front of Carl. “You had one of our guns. Hm. You got a lot of our guns.” Carl only scowled at the man. “Shit, kid. Lighten up. At least cry a little.”

Chuckling, Negan moved on.

You could feel one of your eyes twitch when you saw his shoes stop right in front of you. His bat was beneath your chin in an instant, forcing you to look up. The sharp metal on the bat painfully scratched against your jaw, and fresh tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

“My, my, you’re a pretty thing, aren’t you? What’s your name, darlin’?”

Hatred simmered within your chest, but you forced your expression to remain indifferent.

You quietly told him your name, wincing when his bat dug deeper into your neck and he ordered you to say it louder. You repeated yourself, voice cracking. A single tear meandered down your cheek and slid down your chin, dripping onto Lucille.

Negan hummed, nodding in satisfaction. “Now that’s what I want to see, folks! A little emotion around here—Y/N’s got the gist of it!”

“Kill me,” you gritted out, making the rest of the group’s eyes widen. You could feel Rick’s stare burning holes straight through you, but you refused to meet his gaze, staring straight up at Negan. “You can kill me. Just don’t hurt them. Let them go. Maggie, on my right, she’s real sick and she needs medicine—if she doesn’t get the proper treatment soon, she’ll… she’ll…”

The man in front of you barked out an amused laugh. “She’ll what?”

“She’ll die,” you snarled. “So kill me. Get it over with—and let them go.”

And for a split second, you let your eyes return to Daryl, one last time. He wouldn’t look at you—he couldn’t—terrified that Negan would bring that bat down on your head if he noticed.

But it was all futile. He noticed anyway.

He followed your gaze over to Daryl, lowering his bat to gesture between the two of you.

“Ah… you two are a thing, ain’t ya? Damn. And here I thought you were available for takin’, sugar.” Negan tossed his head back and chuckled with mild disappointment. “God, look at you bein’ all heroic, offering yourself up for the chopping block! No, no, darlin’, this ain’t a game of who gets to be a martyr and save their friends. You don’t decide what’s happening here. I do. You think I don’t know you’re the doctor of the group? My people have been reporting to me—they know you’ve been the one taking care of Little Miss Sickly over there. No… you’re far too valuable for me to kill. We need more people like you, darlin’. Plus, I wouldn’t want to bash in your pretty little face, now, would I?”

With a hum, Negan stepped away from you, fixing his gaze upon Maggie.

“Jesus. You look shitty. I should just put you out of your misery right now—!”

“NO!” screamed Glenn, scrambling onto his feet and lunging at Negan. Before he could even begin to make contact, Dwight grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, threateningly shoving Daryl’s crossbow into his face.

Maggie cried out—both from a fresh wave of pain seeping through her bones, and from the sight of her husband being dragged back to his spot like a ragdoll.

Huffing out a sigh, Negan grunted out, “Nope. Nope, nope, get him back in line.”

Glenn screamed, choking back a sob. “No… don’t. Don’t!”

Negan could only smile. “Alright, alright, listen. Don’t any of you do that again—I will shut that shit down, no exceptions! First one’s free—it’s an emotional moment. I get it. Mmh. Sucks, don’t it? The moment you realize you don’t know shit.”

Rick trembled violently beside you. Tilting his head, Negan glanced between him and Carl, realization dawning upon him when he noticed the physical similarities between the two.

“This is your kid, right? Ohoho, that is definitely your kid!”

“JUST STOP THIS!” yelled Rick, so sudden that it made you flinch.

Equivalent in volume, Negan bellowed back, “HEY! Do not make me kill your little future serial killer! Don’t make it easy on me! I gotta pick somebody—everybody’s at the table waitin’ for me to order, hm?”

The man whistled out a shrill tune, one that sent a shiver dance down your spine.

“I simply cannot decide. But I got an idea.” With that, he pointed the bat at Rick. “Eenie.”

He moved to you, before narrowing his eyes, and skipped over to Maggie. “Meenie.”

Abraham. “Minie.”

Michonne. “Mo.”

Glenn. “Catch.”

Daryl. “A tiger.”

Rosita. “By.”

Eugene. “His toe.”

Sasha. “If.”

Aaron. “He hollers.”

Carl. “Let him go.”

And so on he went.

My mother told me to pick the very best one. And you… are… it.

Your heart dropped when the end of his bat stopped in front of Abraham.

No. No… no… no…

“Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy’s other eye out and feed it to his father, and then we’ll start! You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell, you’re all gonna be doin’ that!”

And with that, he swung the bat back and brought it clean down on Abraham’s head.

Screams erupted from around you. You could feel your vision blur over with your tears, and you closed your eyes shut, not wanting to see such a gruesome sight, curling in on yourself as you listened to the repeated, sickening squelch of Negan’s bat repeatedly hitting your dear friend. Negan gloated and laughed and jeered. You cried and sobbed and flinched with every strike.

His blood—Abraham’s blood—splattered on your face. You could feel it.

Warm, moist, and thick. Dripping down your cheek.

“You guys… look at my dirty girl!” proclaimed Negan, jutting out the bloody bat for all to witness. The monster of a man tilted his head at Rosita, whose eyes were horrified and bloodshot, dripping with fat tears. “Sweetheart… lay your eyes on this!”

When Rosita began to cry harder, Negan hummed. “Oh, damn. Were you… were you guys together? That sucks. If you were, you should know—there was a reason for all this. Red—and damn if that isn’t a good name for him—he just took one, or six, or seven for the team! So take… a damn… look.”

Rosita refused to move her gaze from Abraham’s mutilated corpse.

And, much to your horror, Daryl growled out as he surged forward on his feet, landing a clean punch against Negan’s jaw. You screamed out his name when three Saviors grabbed him and beat him back onto the ground, pinning him tightly against the gravel. A sob wracked through your frame and you could feel your stomach twist into itself. Daryl was still struggling against them, clutching his side as he panted out.

“No!” yelled Negan, clearly furious. “Oh, no. That—is a big no-no. The whole thing—not one fucking bit of that shit flies here!”

Terror clutched at your palpitating heart when Negan shoved Lucille right up into Daryl’s face, smearing Abraham’s blood all over him.

Dwight strode up and pointed Daryl’s own crossbow against the back of your boyfriend’s head. A sob fell from your lips. You couldn’t watch this—you just couldn’t.

“Daryl,” you cried out, hiccupping through your words. “Negan… no. No, please, don’t! I’ll do anything, please! Not him. Please, not him!”

Amused at your pleading, Negan casted a sidelong glance to you, before grabbing at Daryl’s hair and pulling him upright. “See what you did there, Buckaroo? You got your little partner all upset! Look, they’re crying their eyes out, worried for you.” Negan got back up on his feet. “Get him back in line,” he barked, though his eyes were trained on you.

And in two quick strides, he was back in front of you, gripping your face tightly between his gloved hand. “Look at you, darlin’, all covered in blood. Would it be weird if I say it makes my dick hard as fuck?” You scowled, trying your best to pull your face away from his uncomfortably rough grip. “Ah, ah, ah, sweetheart—your boyfriend here didn’t listen to me earlier. I said the first one was free, didn’t I? And what does that mean? Second one’s got a price, hm? I said I’d shut that shit down—no exceptions. I don’t know what kind of lyin’ assholes y’all have been dealing with… but I’m a man of my word. First impressions are important! I need you all to know me. Know that I’m not joking around with this shit. Now, if you weren’t a doctor and you weren’t so fuckin’ hot—I would’ve bashed your head to pieces without battin’ an eye! But, lookie here, I’m faced with another dilemma. I need to kill another one of you to get my point across.”

A wail bubbled up in your throat and you began to claw at Negan’s fingers now painfully squeezing your jaw. “No… please, please… don’t, please—!”

“And I want you, darlin’, to pick which one of your little friends I kill.”

“No!” you spat, breathing shallow and panicked. “Me—just kill me, Negan—you don’t have to hurt anyone else, please, please, let them go, you—”

Getting irritated with you, Negan shook your face until you stopped blubbering. “You’re not listenin’ to me. Pick. Someone. Not you, and not your little boyfriend. I want him to live with the fact that one of his friends died because of him. Pick someone. Anyone, sweetheart. You’ll be doin’ em a favor, honestly. They get to save the rest of you from a miserable death! Now, doesn’t that sound appealing?”

A beat of silence. Negan stared you down, and you glared right back.

“Eat my shit,” you snarled out.

Narrowing his eyes, Negan finally relinquished his hold on you. You gasped for breath, chest heaving, stabilizing yourself with your hands on your thighs. “Goddamn, you’re feisty! Might have to keep you around after this—holy fuckin’ shit. Mmh, alright… fine, then. Since you won’t pick—I’ll just have to kill your precious patient’s boyfriend, hm?”

Before any of you could react, Negan spun on his heel and arced his bat through the air, right onto Glenn’s head. Again, and again, and again.

A piercing scream echoed across the forest. Maggie’s scream.

Your mouth dropped open as a silent cry scratched down the sides of your throat.

Glenn was still alive, somehow, after all those bashes. Blood caked his entire skull and part of his head was caved in—to your nauseating horror, one of his eyes had come out of its socket.

“Buddy, you still there?” exclaimed Negan in astonishment, bending down to inspect his handiwork. “I just don’t know… seems to me like you’re tryin’ to say something! But you just took a hell of a hit! I just cracked your skull so hard, your eyeball popped right out! And it is gross as shit!”

After all that, Glenn managed to slur out, “Maggie… I’ll find you.”

Sobs rang throughout the clearing. The rest of the group cried tears for Glenn—without him, all of you would’ve been dead three times over.

“Awh, hell. I can see this is hard on you guys,” said Negan. “I’m sorry. I truly am. But I did say… no exceptions!”

With that, he brought down his bat again. Over, and over, and over.

Maggie cried so hard her voice started to give out.

Daryl, your beloved Daryl, flinched with every stroke of the bat, his eyes red and puffy with tears. You could see it already—the guilt behind his gaze. He thought it was his fault Glenn was killed.

You shut your eyes again.

“Lucille is thirsty! She’s a vampire bat!” proudly declared Negan, as he swung one final hit on Glenn’s long-dead body. “What? Was the joke that bad? Tough crowd, huh?”

“I’m gonna kill you,” whispered Rick once Negan was done. Rick had blood splattered all over his face, as well. Abraham’s blood. Glenn’s blood.

Negan squatted down beside him, tilting his head. His bat was dangerously close to you. “What? I didn’t quite catch that, Rick. You’re gonna have to speak up.”

Squaring his jaw, Rick drew in a sharp inhale. “Not today… not tomorrow… but I’m gonna kill you.”

Negan sucked at his teeth. “Jesus,” he softly said. “Simon. What did he have? A knife?”

Pornstache raised his brows. “He had a hatchet. An axe.”

Snorting, Negan shook his head. “Simon’s my right-hand man. Having one of those is important. I mean, what do you have left without ‘em? A whole lot of work. You have one? Maybe one of these fine people still breathing? Oh… or did I…”

The man waved the bloodied bat in front of Rick’s face, taunting him.

“Sure, yeah. Give me his axe.” Pornstache handed Negan the small weapon and Negan smugly slid it into his belt. Suddenly, Negan grabbed the back of Rick’s jacket and yanked him up, practically dragging him by the scruff towards the RV. Your breath hitched, wanting to stop him, but all the guns trained on the backs of your friends made you freeze. All you could do was lower your head and stave away your raucous sobs.

“I’ll be right back, folks! Maybe Rick will be with me! And if not… well, we can just turn these people inside out, won’t we? I mean… the ones that are left!”

They were gone for hours.

During those hours, part of you wanted to go to Maggie, comfort her, check if both she and the baby were alright. No doubt she was in a tremendous amount of both emotional and physical pain. The other part of you wanted to go to Daryl, curl up in the safety of his arms and cry into his chest.

But you couldn’t do either. Not with the Saviors pointing the barrels of their rifles to the back of your skulls.

The sun was already beginning to rise, tinting the sky a sweet, soft shade of blue. A stark juxtaposition to the dark red blood steadily drying on the rocky ground.

When Rick got back, Negan ruthlessly threw him down in front of the group. He looked exhausted. More than that—he looked dead inside. The light behind his eyes was gone.

“Do you know what that little trip was about?” asked Negan.

Rick looked around wildly, as if making sure that everyone else was alright.

“Speak when you’re spoken to,” Negan hissed.

Begrudgingly, Rick bowed his head. “Okay… okay.”

Negan wolfishly grinned, though there was a dark glimmer to his irises that you misliked. “That trip was about the way that you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand. But you’re still lookin’ at me the same damn way. Like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that’s not gonna work!” Once again, Negan squatted down beside Rick, that smug expression still plastered across the man’s coarse features. “So… do I give you another chance?”

After a moment’s pause, Rick hacked out, “Yeah. Yes.”

Satisfied, Negan clapped Rick on the back, before getting back up onto his feet. “Alright! Here it is, the grand-prize game. What you do next will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone’s last crap day… or just another crap day. Get some more guns to the back of their heads. Level with their noses, so if you have to fire… it’ll be a real fuckin’ mess.”

You could feel cold metal graze the very top of your temple.

“Kid, come here,” said Negan, making your heart plummet to your stomach. Rick’s expression shifted to one of pure dread.

Carl didn’t move.

“Kid… now.”

With cautious movements, Carl stood up in front of the taller man.

“You a southpaw?” asked Negan while he unbuckled his belt, pulling it out of its loops.

“Am I a what?”

“A lefty,” clarified Negan.

Carl scowled. “No.”

“Good,” retorted Negan, before grabbing Carl’s left arm and tying the belt around his bicep. “That hurt?”

Gritting his teeth, Carl bit out a negative.

“It should. It’s supposed to.” Negan smirked, knocking Carl’s cowboy hat off his head. “Alright, get down on the ground next to daddy, kid. Spread them wings!”

Slowly, Carl lowered himself down beside Rick, his cheek pressed flat against the dusty gravel.

“Simon, you got a pen?”

Pornstache nodded, brandishing a marker from his pocket and tossing it over to Negan. The man uncapped the black pen with his teeth, flashing you a wink and spitting out the cap somewhere to the side. He kneeled down by Carl to draw a straight line just below the junction of his elbow.

“Sorry, kid,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “This is gonna be as cold as a warlock’s dick, as if he were hanging his ballsack above you and dragging it right across your forearm! Gives you a little leverage, don’t it?”

Stammering, Rick muttered out, “Please… please don’t. Please don’t.”

Negan tilted his head, lightly chuckling. “Me? Oh, I ain’t doin’ shit. Rick… I want you to take your axe and cut your son’s left arm off—right on that line! Now, I know you gotta process that for a second. That makes sense. Still, though—I’m gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die. Then your kid dies. Then the people back home die. Then you… eventually. I’d keep you breathing for a few years just so you could stew on it!”

“You… you don’t have to do this,” pleaded Michonne. It was the first time she’d spoken since she got out of the truck. Seeing Carl splayed out in front of her, practically her son, made something inside her snap. “We understand. We get it, we—”

“You might understand! I’m not so sure Rick here does. I’m gonna need a clean cut right there on that line. Now, I know this is a screwed-up thing to ask, but it’s gonna have to be like a salami slice. You remember those, right? Nothin’ messy. I want a clean, forty-five degree cut. Give us somethin’ to fold over. You got Y/N right there to fix him up nice and good. The kid’ll be just fine. Probably.”

Rick was just about losing his mind, rocking back and forth, murmuring incoherently beneath his breath. Sweat dripped down his bloodied face, his hair, mixing with the salty tears leaking from his crazed eyes.

“Rick. This needs to happen now. Chop, chop. Before I crush the little fella’s skull myself.”

Swallowing down his sobs, Rick choked, “It can—it can… it can be me. It can be me. Wh… you… you could do it to me. I c-can go with—with you.”

Negan smiled at his desperation. “No. This is the only way. Pick up the axe, Rick. Not making a decision is a big decision, let me tell you that. You really wanna see all these people die? Because you will—if you don’t PICK UP THE FUCKING AXE!”

Rick began sobbing uncontrollably.

“Oh, my God,” said Negan, pulling at his face wearily. “You gonna make me count? Okay, Rick—you win. I’ll start counting. Three!”

“PLEASE!” screamed Rick. “IT CAN BE ME. PLEASE!”

“Two!” Negan kneeled down and slapped a sobbing Rick across the face, before grabbing his cheeks, not unlike he did with you hours before. “This is it, Rick. Make a decision. One!”

With a gut wrenching scream, Rick’s trembling fingers curled around the handle of his axe.

“Dad…” whispered Carl. A tear slipped down your cheek as the events unfolded in front of you. “Just do it.”

Rick cocked his arm back, seconds away from bringing it down to cleave Carl’s hand off.

But Negan grabbed Rick’s wrist at the very last second, stopping him.

The man smirked, pleased with himself. “You answer to me. You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?”

Frantically, Rick nodded his head.

“SPEAK WHEN YOU��RE SPOKEN TO! You answer to me. You provide for me!”

“I’ll provide for you!” cried Rick.

“You belong to me! Right?” hollered Negan.

Hiccuping a sob, Rick bobbed his head. “Right.”

“Now that… that is the look I wanted to see.” Negan grabbed Rick’s axe from him and stepped away. “We did it. All of us, together. Even the dead guys on the ground! Hell, they get the spirit award, for sure! Today was a productive damn day! Now, I hope for all your sake… that you get it now. That you understand how things work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you before… that is over now.”

Negan clapped his hands together, sighing out in relief.

And strangely, you were slightly relieved, as well. Maybe he was done. He wasn’t going to kill any more of you. This was all over for now.

Right?

“Dwight,” said Negan. “Load him up.”

To your shock, Negan pointed Lucille straight at Daryl.

“See, he’s got guts. Not a little bitch like someone I know,” Negan told Rick. “I like him. He’s mine now. You still wanna try something? Not today, not tomorrow? I will cut pieces off of… what’s his name?”

“Daryl,” said Pornstache.

“Wow. That actually sounds just about right. I will cut pieces off of Daryl and put them on your doorstep! Or, better yet, I will bring him to you and have you do it for me.”

“No…” you croaked out, when Dwight grabbed your boyfriend and dragged him back to the truck as if he were a wild animal, crossbow pointed at his chest. Maggie sobbed from beside you. “No, Daryl… please, no, don’t—please don’t take him from me!” you cried. “Please, I need him… Daryl!”

Negan smiled down at you. “Mmh. Alrighty, then. I’ll take you, too. Come on.”

A gasp lodged in your throat when he suddenly grabbed your arm and yanked you upwards.

“No, wait, I’m the only doctor they have, they need—Maggie needs m—!”

“I don’t give a rat’s flying blue ass,” growled Negan, shoving you in the direction of the truck, where Daryl watched you with wide, scared eyes. You craned your neck around to look at Rick and Maggie and the rest of the group—your family—one last time, unsure of when, if ever, you’d see them again. “You’re mine now. Got a whole lot of shit you can do for me, that’s for sure, darlin’. Load ‘em up!”

One of the Saviors pushed you into the truck just as Negan yelled out, “Welcome to a brand new beginning, you sorry shits! I’ll leave you a truck. Keep it—use it to cart all the crap you’re gonna find me. We’ll be back for our first offering in one week. Until then… ta-fuckin’-ta.”

You collapsed straight into Daryl once you were inside, thundering sobs spilling from your lungs. He wrapped his burly arms around you, smelling of dirt and blood and motor oil. No words needed to be said. No words could be said.

The both of you had lost so much today.

And now… you’d lost your freedom, as well.

Daryl began crying into your shoulder, and you could only hold him all the tighter.

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nakedwilbur · 4 months

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“You didn’t think we would let your poor performance at the game go unpunished, did you? It’s your fault entirely that we lost, and it’s time to pay up. From how it looked last night you don’t care much for running, so this should be perfect for you. It’s quite simple, you walk, not run, the entire trail. We keep your clothes until you are back. Even a quite walk might be too much for you, and we don’t want you to overheat. And another thing, don’t try to hide or cover up if you meet anyone on your walk. Just smile and say hello. We’ll be watching you from the hilltop, and if you want your clothes back you follow the rules. Any attempts on running or hiding we are out of here, and you cand find your way back home stark naked. Of you go!”

#enm #enmstory #naked male #exposed and humiliated #forced nudity #naked punishment

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celtic-crossbow · 10 months

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I’ve Been the Archer, I’ve Been the Prey

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria (after 6 year jump)

Warnings: Talk of pregnancy, angst (with a happy ending), brief mention of injuries

Summary: After everything, Daryl is still trying.

A/N: Part 2 of Help Me Hold Onto You. If you haven’t read that one, you may want to before this one. This isn’t great but I needed to put something out if for no other reason than to help me feel better. I hope y’all like it.

*Click here to be added to taglists.

Moodboard by @dannyo000

The infirmary was quiet, and for that, you were thankful. Autumn had arrived, cooler temperatures and less fresh foods available left people’s immunities lacking. A couple of flu cases had been reported, but all in all, everyone seemed to be doing okay. Siddiq was setting up for your weekly visit. He had demanded those because of your declining health since you’d found out about the baby. You were never supposed to be able to have children. It took years for this to happen, even though you and Daryl had never taken precautions.

You sighed. Daryl. The two of you hadn’t spoken since that day over a month ago. He had remained close but never asked about appointments or your health or the baby. Not a single word. A part of you had hoped he’d at least try now that he knew. Another part of you scolded that part with something about setting yourself up for disappointment.

You knew the archer wasn’t in Alexandria today. He had left a few days ago for Hilltop after Maggie had sent word of a threat lingering nearby. Of course Daryl had left. Everything was more important than you, after all. You shook your head clear of those thoughts, looking down at your rounded middle.

“At least I have you, little one.” You smiled, albeit sadly.

“What’s that?” Siddiq peered out of the exam room, eyebrows raised.

You shook your head. “Nothing. Ready?”

“Yeah. Yeah, come on…back.”

You were levering yourself up from the chair, the physician’s brow drawing inward just as a sound came from behind you. Following his gaze to the door, your eyes widened.

“Dixon?”

“Hey.” He greeted quietly. He looked like shit, covered in dirt and the dark remnants of walker innards. Cuts and bruises littered the skin you could see. How much of the bright red blood on his skin and clothes was actually his? The man looked as if he hadn’t slept in days and would keel over any minute. “S’it okay that m’here?”

You blinked at him a moment longer before nodding. “Yeah.” How did he even know? “Yeah, sure. I was just heading back.”

He returned the nod, shifting from foot to foot uneasily. “I’ll, uh… I’ll jus’ be here then. If’n ya need me.” Daryl had yet to meet your eyes.

“Okay.” You turned toward the room and took a couple of steps, too lost in your thoughts to notice the almost comical discomfort Siddiq nakedly wore. Daryl’s here. He actually came. Stopping just short of the doorway, you twisted at the fabric of your sweater. “Hey, you could, y’know…come back here with me.” You turned back to the bowman, finding him staring back with an expression you couldn’t quite place.

“Sure. Okay.”

You didn’t wait for him and squeezed past Siddiq to quickly climb onto the exam table. Daryl entered a moment later, your eyes narrowing at the limp he sported. He didn’t say anything else, didn’t even move toward where you were set up. It really seemed as if he was trying to be as imperceptible as possible.

But he was here.

“Alright, Y/N, let’s see what your little cauliflower is up to, shall we?”

A glance at Daryl saw him looking lost and mouthing the word ‘cauliflower.’ It was too adorable for you not to smile. “Siddiq likes to call the baby the fruits and veggies that represent how big it is.” You quipped, pulling up your shirt to just below your breasts. The archer seemed to have forgotten all about the mention of food, now staring at your rounded belly with wide eyes. You had forgotten that he’d never seen you like this beneath your clothes.

The jelly on the end of the wand was cold and caused you to flinch, snapping both you and Daryl out of your respective thoughts. The room filled with the static noises of the machine until suddenly a quick, repetitive thudding sounded. You smiled and watched the screen, knowing from previous visits exactly what you were seeing and hearing. You let your gaze shift to the side, where the archer was leaning slightly with narrowed eyes on the monitor. “Come here.” You beckoned him with a finger.

A moment of hesitation but then he limped toward you, halting next to your legs. You found yourself wishing he had taken the two extra steps to be beside you but quickly dismissed it.

“S’tha’ sound?” Daryl asked quietly.

“That’s the baby’s heartbeat.” Siddiq smiled toward the screen, watching the little humanoid shape move. “See that? That’s a foot.”

You couldn’t help but beam as you watched the show play out in front of you. Siddiq pointed at different things and told you both what they were. At one point, the baby yawned and you almost giggled, but your eyes tore away from the screen when you felt something brush your arm. Daryl had moved closer but he didn’t seem to realize. His piercing blue eyes were shining, unblinking, and locked on that screen. He didn’t speak, didn’t make a sound. Just stood there with this raw emotion on display for anyone to see. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

Your hand moved of its own accord, fingertips ghosting over his knuckles. His reaction was instant, a single tear making its descent toward his jaw when he looked at you. “That’s your baby, Daryl.” He stared for a moment more and then back to the screen. You knew this softness wouldn’t last. The anger would return the moment you left this room, but for now…

Siddiq asked you again if you wanted to know the gender and you refused. He gave you the speech about needing iron and that you absolutely must find someone to send out for prenatal vitamins. Much to your chagrin, he prohibited you from any kind of work now. You waved him off and headed for the door, feeling Daryl on your heels. He was probably still staring at the picture he had been given.

“Ya goin’ home?” He queried once the door closed and you stepped out into the cold air. You tossed him a look over your shoulder.

“No.”

“Whatcha need? I can get it an’ ya can go rest.” Dog bounded over, stopping at your hip for ear scritches before continuing to his owner.

“I’ve got work to do. Some of the solar panels have to be moved.” His footsteps audibly picked up speed. Oh no.

“Whoa, hey, wait a sec.” His grip on your arm was gentle, just enough pressure to get you to slow down and let him step into your path. “Doc said no work.”

“I heard him.” You made to sidestep around him, sighing loudly when he moved with you.

“Ya need ta go home.”

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Like in a shower? Or maybe go back and get that leg looked at?”

“Nah, only place m’goin’ is ta yer house so I know ya actually go inside.”

You closed your eyes and counted to ten in your head, pulling in a deep breath through your nose. “Dixon, get out of my way.” He only squared his shoulders and crossed his arms. “That shit doesn’t work with me anymore.” You stepped the other direction, only to be blocked again. “Move before I move you.”

“I’d like ta see ya try.” He smirked. You found you had to bite back a smile.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nah.”

“Why do you care?” You asked, mimicking his stance. It was low, you knew it.

“What ‘bout all those things doc said about yer health? And if’n that ain’t enough of a reason, tha’s my baby inside ya.” You lifted your chin defiantly. Yeah, okay, you felt like shit. Nauseous and tired and weak almost constantly but you’d be damned if he was going to waltz in and start bossing you around after what he’d put you through. Daryl’s shoulders dropped, his hands falling to his sides. “Y/N, ya told me I could be part’a this as much as I wanted. Just…let me take care’a things.”

You held your coldness a few moments longer, finally just too tired to continue. “Fine. I’m going home.” He gave you a small nod and moved aside, letting you pass. “And don’t follow me!” You yelled back before you rounded the corner and he was out of sight.

Being home and not out in the community was not something to which you were accustomed. It filled you with a nervous energy that had you picking at your nails or bouncing your leg almost constantly. Regardless, your aching back and swollen ankles were quite content to be laid out on the couch. And it was a downpour outside, cold and windy.

You tried to focus on the book you held in one hand, the fingers of the other twisting the silver arrow pendant that hung from the chain around your neck. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t taken it off. It reminded you of when Daryl was yours and you were his, when things felt right and safe. The familiar weight of it kept you grounded. Michonne had said you couldn’t part with it because your heart still belonged to him. The statement had made you so angry, but that made it no less true.

But then you had seen him with her. This…Leah. Thinking back on it now, you could remember how she’d reached for his hand and he had moved it. How she’d stepped into his space and he’d turned his head, maintaining some distance. But she’d said something, close to his ear, and he had turned quickly. She’d caught him by the mouth in a feverish kiss and you had looked away, but he was already walking away from her when you looked back. You’d made a noise then, a broken sob, and he’d seen you. You could clearly remember that horrified, desperate look in his eyes. He’d called your name and begged you to stop, but the ache in your heart had propelled you forward.

He may not have wanted that kiss, but why was he with her, alone in that cabin? He had wanted to explain after finally coming back, but you had shut him down. Why hadn’t you let him explain?

A knock at your screen door made you jump, the book falling to the floor and your hand reaching for the knife on the table. Glancing out the window, you found the sun had disappeared, leaving nothing but darkness and shadows. How long had you been sitting there?

After two tries, you finally made it to your feet and padded over to the front door. Maybe you should have brought the knife with you, but something told you that there was no threat on the other side. Hand hesitating over the knob, you finally grasped it and pulled the door open.

Daryl was soaked to the bone, breathing hard and trembling in the cold wind. He still looked like shit.

“Dixon? What’re you doing here? And why are you…panting?” You asked, mildly amused.

“Bike stalled few miles out. Wanted ta give ya this.”

You hadn’t noticed the pack in his hand at first. “Oh.” You stated simply. “Okay, um, come in.” You unlocked the screen door and pushed it toward him, a blur of wet dog pushing past both of you before shaking off in front of the fire and making himself at home there. “Thanks, asshole.” You chuckled, shaking your head and waving the archer inside.

You led him to your small dining table and reached for the bag, his cold fingers brushing yours as he passed it off.

“Did you walk here in the rain?” You asked, giving him a once over while unzipping the bag.

“Uh, sorta. Maybe more of’a jog. S’fucking cold.”

Raising an eyebrow, you shook your head and opened the pack, your expression falling. Four bottles of prenatal vitamins, three bottles of iron supplements, a handful of peppermint candies, two small blankets, a stuffed elephant, and a tiny pale green onesie. Stunned into silence, you looked back at him.

He was rubbing his upper arms, either to combat the chill or out of nerves; you weren’t sure which. “Doc said ya need those vit’mins an’ tha’ yer iron is real low so those other things will help. Tha’ candy’s good fer when ya feelin’ sick, an’ I saw some stuff fer babies so I grabbed wha’ I could ‘fore I had ta get outta there.” He didn’t even stop for a breath and kept his eyes on the bag. When you didn’t say anything, he cleared his throat. “Alrigh’, if ya need anythin’,” he took a radio from his belt and placed it on the table, “m’on channel four. Don’ try ta go get nothin’. Jus’ call me, okay?”

You nodded and placed the bag on the table. Your heart was pounding, overflowing with gratitude and remorse and guilt and so many other emotions you couldn’t place right now. All you could focus on was him. Standing in front of you, drenched, tired, cold, limping, and still absolutely willing to do anything for you. “What if I’m craving pickles and peanut butter at 3am?”

Still shivering, the look he tossed you was even more amusing. “Migh’ be some in the pantry. I can check.”

“Mhmm. And what if my feet hurt and I want them rubbed?” You slowly started toward him, looking at the things on the table, running your fingers along the bag and then the radio.

The confused frown only deepened. “Ain’t no masseuse, but I’d give it a whirl.”

“What if I just wanted you?” You stopped, a step or two away, and finally met his eyes. “What if I wanted to hear you tell me what really happened that day?” Your eyes began to sting, your vision blurring.

“Y/N,” Daryl whispered. It almost sounded like a plea; like he felt as if you were toying with him, dangling this in front of him with the intent to pull it away when he reached for it.

But you reached for him first. Your warm hand sat against his chilled cheek, his eyes closing as he leaned into your touch.

“What if I wanted to tell you over and over how much I’ve missed you and how sorry I am for how I’ve treated you?” Your voice broke, the tears cascading down your cheeks. Daryl wasted no time in gathering against him, holding you as close as he could while you sobbed. He was wet and cold but that didn’t matter. “I’m so sorry, Daryl.”

“S’okay. M’here now.”

You felt his lips press against the top of your head, his hand rubbing circles on your back. After you had shown him nothing but bitter disdain, he was comforting you. You allowed it until you could pull yourself together, placing your hands on his chest to move back but only the slightest bit.

“Come with me. We’ve got to get you dry and warm.” You walked around him, closing and locking the door before offering your hand. He took it without hesitation.

Hours later, you both were lying on your bed. Daryl was clad only in his damp boxer briefs and you were in your tshirt and sleep shorts, both under the blankets and facing one another.

“I should’ve let you explain. We lost so much time, you missed out on so much.” You sniffled and wiped your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Don’ matter anymore. M’here now. S’all gon’ be okay.” He reached to tuck some hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips linger on your jaw. “I missed ya.”

You felt new tears collecting on your lashes and tried your best to keep them from falling. “I missed you so much.” You moved first, closing the distance to press your lips to his. He reciprocated immediately. The kiss was desperate, meant to convey everything that hadn’t been said. You parted quickly, both of you too weary to seek anything more just yet. With your forehead against his, you smiled and pressed one more chaste kiss to his lips. “Daryl?”

He hummed in response, his eyes already closed, the circles his thumb was tracing over your hip stuttering and slowing as he began to relax and drift off.

“Want to officially greet your baby?”

His eyes opened at that. “Wha’?”

You moved back just a little and took his hand in yours while you scooted up to lean against the headboard. Your free hand pulled up your shirt so you could press his palm against the curve of your belly. He didn’t have to wait long before a flurry of kicks rippled beneath his hand. His eyes lit up and he was propped on his elbow in an instant.

“Holy shit.” He whispered. “Tha’ was them?”

“That was our little cauliflower.” You replied, smiling brightly. He moved closer, resting his head against your chest so your fingers could card through his hair. His hand was still glued to that spot. “Talk to them. They can hear you.” You encouraged, shimmying down a little so the pillows propped you up more than the headboard. If Daryl was bothered by your movements, he didn’t complain. He was already invested in a different conversation.

“Hey, kid. I’m yer dad.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #pregnant reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon angst #Spotify

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