#i just hate seeing rick in pain

[deputyrick]

my TOWL episode ranking

4

6

2

5

3

1

[pirateprincessblog]

2 batteries away

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: if he can choose to spend time with someone else rather than you, daryl would do it. not because he hates you. he simply doesn't have any type of connection with you. and you are so young. but when rick demands that you join him on a scavenge hunt, he doesn't have much of a saying into it, and chooses to act unbothered. he also chooses to ignore the way you tease him the whole trip, your hips swaying just a bit more when walking than usual. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: daryl dixon x female reader 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: alexandria, pre-negan 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: big age gap, reader is half daryl's age 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: voyeurism, masturbation, breath-play, subtle ddlg, toys, subtle dacryphilia

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i am on season ten of twd (my first time watching) and it feels like this man's clothes keep getting tighter and tighter each episode and i am so here for it. also the way his arms magically always glisten in the sun as he subtly flexes when the camera is on him? give me a break I BEG

Also I miss Rick very much 🥺

*

"i have a special request. if i'm allowed to do that." a playful voice calls behind you.

you turn around, squinting. the sun is high up in the sky, and right in your eyes. you make out carol's short hair, and nod at her as a sign to keep speaking.

"i'm gonna need something i can make cookies or cakes with. hazelnut, chocolate, almonds,... you know. cake stuff." the woman smiles.

"i'm going out for ibuprofen and possibly viagra, not chocolate."

"viagra? for who?"

you chuckle under the cap rosita has given you, and try to subtly glance over at the man loading the car with weapons. he grunts, glaring at you and instantly shutting down the bullying party you wanted to start.

"i don't need no damn viagra." he slams the trunk door shut, and walks past you, intentionally pushing his shoulder into yours.

you fall a step back, holding in a laugh. carol has her hands on her hips, but her laugh isn't hidden. she knows daryl can't say anything to her.

"oh, come on. i know that you like to stay quiet and mysterious, but a little joking in hard times never hurt anybody." the woman defends you, scrunching her eyebrows at daryl.

"it's hurting me." he yells from the car, slamming the door shut.

"how am i supposed to survive this trip with him, ricky?" you complain, shoulders hanging with rising irritation with the situation.

"you survived a walker flooded prison with nothing but an axe before you found us on the other side, and you're telling me you can't survive a grumpy old man for a few hours?"

"thing is, i killed walkers. i cannot kill him. boo-hoo, the precious tracker. i also, when i see a footprint on the floor facing a certain way, know that someone is headed there. wild, right?"

rick pats your head, messing up the cap in the process just to tease you.

"bring me some shirts on the way back, i'm getting sick of these flannels. and get yourself something nice."

one would think that he gave you his credit card to buy him those shirts at the nearby mall. telling you to get yourself something nice, that idiot. the less fun truth is that you are headed towards a landfill two hours away from alexandria, in hopes of finding anything. glenn and morgan haven't had any luck for a few days now, so rick decided to change the route and the team. daryl and you, apparently, make a great one. that pain in the ass of a man.

"i'm leavin'. you stay and talk 'bout me all you wan'. i'm the one actually doin' something for this place."

"stuck up much? see," you open the car door, sitting inside annoyed, "with the viagra, you'd be a much more pleasant person to be around."

"enough with the damn viagra. fuck's the matter with you?"

"god, just start driving and drop me off somewhere in the middle of the road and i'll find my own shit from a different place. rick doesn't need to know."

"no," he simply responds, not sparing you a glance.

rick waves at you with a smile on his face, knowing damn well what he did putting the two of you together for such a long quest. he's so going to hear from you tonight. if you make it out alive while trying to kill daryl.

"so, what are you hoping to find? booze, peanut butter, new clothes? i'm starting to think you stapled those clothes to your body."

he says nothing, eyes focused on the road. you sigh. maybe you're the problem. you're poking him too much, knowing he has zero patience and doesn't very much like your company. you decide to keep quiet for the rest of the drive, only occasionally glancing over at him out of boredom.

you can't lie, he is an attractive man. you don't know why you're mean to him. he is gorgeous to you, your taste in older rugged men not failing you. you're surprised rick isn't the one you fell for. but next to daryl, he looks too... neat. daryl is just perfect. most of the time his deep raspy voice has you subconsciously rubbing and squeezing your thighs, led by a tingling sensation in your lower stomach. his clothes have recently gotten very tight on him, the buttons of his black shirt threatening to pop and give you a view of your lifetime. he has been working out a lot, you've seen him. fuck, not only have you seen him, you also stayed there, secretly snapping pictures with your polaroid your father had left you before disaster struck. you only had a few films left, yet no self control. something about seeing daryl all sweaty as he did push ups, grunting and almost moaning, thinking that nobody can see him, did things to you.

"wha'?" he asks, sensing your intense gaze.

you turn your head away, flushed. "nothin'."

"mmh."

he keeps it short and stern, and if your panties weren't drenched as your brain replayed the memory of his glistening arm muscles, you'd probably make a sassy remark. he raises an eyebrow, probably also wondering why you aren't being mean for so long now.

"shoes." he says after some time.

"what?" you ask, absent-mindedly staring into the tall trees and the walkers hidden among them.

"i'm hoping to find some shoes. it's gettin' hard to walk in these. i also hope i find sum more arrows."

you nod, surprised that he has actually graced you with an answer. you thought he'd say something like cigarettes or alcohol. you hated people who smoke. but daryl is an exception. he looks damn hot doing it.

"you?" he asks.

"well, new underwear would be nice. i ripped all my good panties, and let me tell you, these thongs are not apocalypse friendly."

"shit, girl, oversharing much?"

"what, you disgusted by female underwear?" you poke back, playfully.

"not female underwear. your underwear."

you're offended. you squint at him, and have to fight the urge to smack the back of his head.

"for your information, you don't look or smell all flowery and fresh yourself. i could use your hair to grease up carol's tray for her cakes. and your fingernails? they have their own ecosystem at this point."

and back to the bickering it is. he grunts again, furrowing his eyebrows. he secretly glances at his fingernails. indeed, they had a layer of dirt under them, but daryl thinks that he has bigger issues than some dirt that will get washed off anyway.

"oh, i also wish to find-"

"yeah, lost interest." the man interrupts. "also, for future conversations, you do not mention your... thongs... to people that are ol' enough to be your father."

ew.

ew.

ew.

he did not.

"what, is that how you see me? you could be my father?"

how utterly disappointing. there you were, sitting next to him, imagining him going feral between your legs, all while he is viewing you as his child. there goes your masturbating material for tonight.

"well the age fits the description."

"fuck you. seriously." you sigh, turning your body towards the window so you can fully ignore him.

arriving at the gates, you immediately notice a few things that you will be taking home. how foolish of you to not take a truck instead of the crusty old car.

"watch it." just as he says it, an arrow passes by your head, followed with a loud thud.

you don't have to look back to know that a walker had managed to sneak behind you, while you were foolish enough to stay swooning over his arms glistening in the sun with sweat.

"damn it, girl, i don' know what it is with you, but you gotta snap outta it. i can't keep saving ya ass."

"yes, dad." you reply, annoyed.

"hey." he calls, hand reaching to cup your jaw and turn your head towards him. "shut it before i make ya."

if it weren't for the feeling of his rough hand on your face and his raspy voice sending you a warning turning you on, you would've slapped him and told him not to touch you. but oh, you were going crazy inside. you found a new way to push his buttons, and you're going to have so much fun with it.

you walk behind him into the landfill, the smell of junk pinching your nose. daryl is also bothered by it, seeing his scrunched expression as he scanned the first piles of garbage.

"there." he points his crossbow a certain way.

you follow the invisible line, your eyes landing on what seemed to be several taped boxes. they could have three things inside: food, weapons, or traps. weird how nobody has discovered this place yet. or maybe they have, and they took all valuables already.

daryl doesn't wait for you. he makes his way towards the boxes, keeping his crossbow ready if something goes wrong. you, on the other hand, have tucked your knife safely and are walking around like there isn't walkers scratching at the fence, waiting to sink their teeth into your skull.

"dammit."

you hear rattling. you turn around, only to find the man kicking the boxes angrily. the can he has just thrown on the floor rolls up to your feet, and you crouch down to examine it. it is food, but expired. eating it would be like playing russian roulette.

"i mean, we can still... ya'know, take it with us. what happens happens."

"dixon, if i'm gonna die, i'm gonna die from a bullet or a bite. not from a rotten macaroni."

he raises an eyebrow at you, amused with your laid back attitude. he doesn't give you much attention, just silently walks next to you while scanning his side of the landfill.

"ah, sweet!" you cheer, running towards a pile.

"wha'?"

you almost trip over the broken wooden chairs, trying to get to a certain little box in the pile.

"the hell are ya doin'? we're losin' time!"

your eyes instinctively roll at his voice. you know he has nothing smart to say. finally reaching the box, you jump back on the floor, eagerly opening it. seeing that the item still has the foil sealed on it, you victoriously raise it in the air, cheering.

"you have made it a goal for yourself to die today, didn't ya?"

"nah, not anymore. i found something that will keep me occupied and will fuel my will to live a little longer."

you continue your way forward, leaving daryl to stare at the box you have discarded, trying to figure out what it is. but he has decided he has no time for your immaturity. he needs to ask rick to not ever put him with you on a hunt again. he's lost a lot of time already, and hasn't found a single thing to bring back.

"clothes." you point, the pile of fabric sitting on top of a garbage hill.

"you gonna go get 'em?"

"why would i go? you go."

"you wanted your... thongs... so, you go get that."

you scoff, setting the newly acquired item on the ground and slowly climbing up the hill.

"what is this, anyway?" his curiosity wins.

you sit on top of the pile, examining the clothes and discarding the ones with holes in them.your eyes dart to the man below you, and you chuckle when you see him crouch and take the item in his hand.

"it's a wand."

"wand?"

"yes."

"for?" he keeps pressing, his eyes never leaving the pink gadget.

"masturbating."

thud.

you look down, mortified. he better not break it.

"careful with that, what's the matter with you?!"

"you're fuckin' crazy, girl."

you silently mock him, sticking your tongue out at him and repeating his words with exaggerated face expressions. he really gets on your nerves. you gather the clothes you have found into a bed sheet, tying it up and putting it over your shoulder, then pick up the gadget from the floor. it seems alive, it didn't break. you only hope it works. you're young, inexperienced, surrounded by people that are either too young or too old for you. though, the old part never was a problem for you, it was for them.

feeling bored, you decide to keep poking him. he is just so grumpy, and silent. and inviting to irritate.

"so, dixon, you've never heard about one of these?" you wave the gadget in front of his face.

he spares you a glare, and continues walking.

"come on, we're talking. nobody's around. tell me, since all of this started, how many times have you even approached a girl? do you even mastu-"

"'m not in the mood to be picked on right now."

"i'm not picking on you. i promise. just trying to converse."

"you want to be useful? hold this. it's in my way." he throws his vest at you, now only wearing a tight black t-shirt.

you scowl at him, shoving his vest into your backpack.

"you're so fun to be around. i get why rick put us together."

he grunts, leaving you behind. rolling your eyes, you go down a different path, hoping to find something useful to all of alexandria and not just you. turning a few lefts, you find yourself standing in front of a little shed like structure. you bang on the door with your foot, and when hearing no growls, you bravely enter. it is dusty and dark, with a singular armchair and a few cupboards.

you open each one of them, happily shoving all the food you managed to find into your backpack, opening a protein bar along the way and chewing on the oats and dried fruits. you missed having those with yogurt for breakfast.

not only will carol be happy with the amount of nuts and flour you have found, rick will be proud of you. you might even ask for a reward when he sees the amount of canned tuna and jam you have found. you forgot what pancakes taste like.

after clearing the room, you peek out the window. daryl is in the distance, going through piles and kicking stuff out of his way, as if playing. you've collected way more than him, and the sun is at it's highest point. the shaded room seems like a perfect place to take a nap, or just rest your feet and ears from him.

you plop on the armchair like a star washed up on the shore. it feels so lonely lately. rick has michonne, carl has enid, rosita has her boytoys, even gabriel might be having more fun than you. as wrong as it was, you stay up listening to the noises coming across the street. they're loud, there's no way you could ignore them even if you wanted to. even rick had to step in and ask them to be quieter. but what is a problem to someone else is a solution for you. is it wrong to touch yourself while listening to someone else fucking? yes. but is it the only way that works for you? also yes.

you eye up the toy that peeks from the backpack, then glance out the window. daryl is busy with his crossbow, having found something that he could use on it.

fuck it.

you unbuckle your pants, not bothering to take off the panties. your fingers are quick to pop the batteries that come with the package in the gadget, and when the lid clicks, you admire it for a second. there it is, in all its glory. waiting to be abused every day by you, until you find a replacement. hopefully a softer and live one.

taking off the thin protective foil from the head, you position yourself on the armchair. you glance at the window again, carefully monitoring daryl. now, if you thought that eavesdropping and touching yourself was bad, what was this? watching daryl's fingers work on his crossbow, arms glistening in the sun, all while the pink toy softly vibrates on your pulsating clit.

you sigh at the newfound pleasure, rubbing the toy up and down your slit, while your eyes stay focused on the man unaware of your situation. he probably even forgot about you. or is thankful that you have left him alone. even better for you. you get to be a pervert without him ever knowing.

you arch your back, throwing your head on the backrest as you focus on chasing the release. it's been awhile, it won't take you long. your eyes open again, just enough to see if the man is still in his spot. your fingers change the vibration strength on the gadget, and instantly, you gasp. it is so intense, and so much, but you don't want it to stop. this thing is your new best friend, you better get used to it.

something else peeks out of the backpack, the leather catching your attention and giving you an idea. like an animal in heat, you grab the vest, burying your nose into it and spreading your legs further. daryl's scent takes over your senses, making you lose control and become a moaning mess. you are getting wetter by the second, the toy now slipping up and down your slit with ease and giving you maximum pleasure.

"fuck- daryl-" you can't help but gasp, enveloped in his manly scent and fabric.

your hips hopelessly rub against the toy, chasing and chasing after something that isn't quite getting closer, even though it feels like it.

"the hell?"

your eyes widen at the interruption. you drop the vest in your lap, hiding the crime scene from him. the man stands at the door, expression unreadable. yours is one of horrified mixed with desire, the way he stares down at you angrily sending arrows to your core.

"daryl- i- did you, uh, find anything?" you try to play it off, foolishly.

"yeah. i found an animal in heat it seems. couldn't wait for alexandria to do that shit?"

"I-"

"is that my vest?"

he slams the door shut, leaving you two in darkness. you gulp, moving the gadget from your core and letting your panties fall back in place.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry-" you stutter, failing to put a sentence together while he intensely glares at you.

"ya ain't sorry." he grunts. "ya know why i despise being around your ass? you're inappropriate."

"no, look," you try, but he points a finger at your face, making you close your mouth.

your eyes burn, tears announcing their arrival.

"it's not like that-"

"shut up, dammit! i'm talkin' now! do you have any idea in how many uncomfortable situations you've  put me? all those snarky dirty comments, all that flirting, now this? do you understand what that does to me?!"

he's yelling, frustrated and angry with you. but why are you getting wetter? why can't you think rationally? he is scolding you for being inappropriate, and you continue to be even more inappropriate by sexualising simple yelling. not your fault he looks damn hot while he does it, though.

"you're- you're half my age. i can't allow myself to play your games, no matter how tempting."

what?

"what will alexandria think? they already have no good opinion on me. engaging with someone half my age the way you want me to engage is- it is a horrible idea. i'll be out faster than i was in."

silence swallows the room. you still lay on the armchair, half naked with his vest covering you. he paces around the room, fingers running through his hair as he tries to gather his thoughts. you think whether it's time to finally say something, but you wait another moment. you need to gather your thoughts too.

tempting, he said. so he thought about it too. he saw past your jokes, and has been controlling himself so well. if only you knew what it would take to shatter that control, even for just a moment.

"since when do you care what other people think?" you start.

"since rick chose to trust me."

you hum, understanding.

"listen-"

"so you've been thinking about it." you're the one to interrupt now.

his head snaps up, looking at you with his eyebrow raised, as if asking you where you're going with that statement.

"there's nothing wrong with it. it's not like we're getting married or something."

"i'm older than you. way older than you."

"so?"

"i could be your father."

"if you say that word to me one more time i swear i will turn this landfill upside down to find another sex toy to shove up your asshole."

"why do you get so triggered by it?"

you roll your eyes, looking anywhere but at him. you press your thighs together, missing the warmth and buzzing from earlier. fun killer.

"because."

"why?"

"doesn't matter."

"tell me," he presses further.

you finally look at him, frustrated. "because i have fucking daddy issues and the thought of you being so much older than me turns me on. there."

you get up from the armchair, putting his vest on so that you can cover yourself. it almost reaches your knees, hiding your body from his gaze. he says nothing, and does nothing for a few moments. you have your back turned to him, hands resting on the counter of the half chipped kitchen cabinet. your head hangs low with embarrassment from the confession that just left your mouth.

tears stream down your cheeks, luckily hidden by your hair. but daryl doesn't miss the little sniff that comes your way. he sighs, then paces around the place a little more. when you don't hear him anymore, and finally face the fact that nothing will be the same with him anymore, you dare turn around. you almost gasp when you come face to face with him, his chest pressing against yours.

"wha- what are you-"

"shh..." he hushes you, eyes roaming your face.

you aren't sure what to do, or what he wants to do. if he tries to comfort you by giving you a hug, you will break down. and you will never face him again. you thought it was only sexual, but the way he looks at you and hushes you as you cry is awakening new emotions inside of you. ones that you will push down for now, because it is not the time.

"daryl, i'm sorry." you hiccup, genuinely feeling sorry for ruining whatever you had with him.

you feel his hands on the back of your thighs, and before you can react, he picks you up and places you on the counter. you instinctively spread your legs, letting him in closer.

"don't be. or else i might regret this."

you look at him doe eyed as he places his hand on your neck, gently holding you just beneath your jaw and softly pressing into the sides of it. he brings his head close to you, eyes half closed as he stares at your lips.

"daryl." you whisper, not sure of this anymore.

"just hush."

and with that, he presses his lips into yours, softly moving them with rhythm only known to the two of you. his other hand caresses your thigh, then creeps to your bottom and pulls you to the edge of the counter, enough to have your crotch press against his.

you can taste your tears while you kiss him, and he probably can too. he doesn't say anything, hell, you even feel him twitch between your legs. you grind on him, unable to control yourself. it is different than the wand. it's warm, and it responds back. it's better.

"hey," you call, slowly pulling away. "i don't want you to do this because you feel sorry for me or something like that. are you doing it because of that?"

"nah."

before you can continue bombarding him with questions and overthinking, he places his lips back on yours, this time a little rougher than before. you open your mouth, tongue eager to taste him properly. and fuck, he tastes good. you hated cigarettes and alcohol, but from his mouth, you adore it. you finally give in, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him impossibly close. finally.

it doesn't take long for him to have you whining and grinding on him, wanting more than just kissing and thigh grabbing and occasional choking. you beg into his mouth, quietly at first, but with each kiss he gives you, you become louder and more demanding.

"touch me, please, please, please," you're desperate.

he smiles, for the first time in a while, and snakes his hands under your top. you hurriedly take off the vest and the top, to make it easier for him, but he pulls his vest back on your body. you are now wearing nothing but panties and the leather vest, making daryl incredibly impatient.

"ya just needed some attention, didn't ya?" he kisses your neck, his hand cupping your breast and thumb playing with the hard nub. "some sense fucked into ya to shut that mouth."

for someone that almost never talks, he is quite the talker now. and you can't complain, when his words have you clenching around nothing down there.

"needed someone older to take care of ya."

you moan at his words, spreading your legs further and raising your hips into his crotch. his hand reaches down to your panties, landing a light slap on your clothed clit as a warning. there's growling outside of the shed, but not enough to make you care. you'll get what you want, and no amount of walkers will stop you, even if it'll be your last.

daryl moves your panties aside, pulling away from you to see you. he hums, thumb coming to contact with your clit and circling it a few times. you shake under his touch, throwing your head back. it isn't something you haven't done before, but the touch is foreign, and different. his fingers are rough and big, an opposite of the soft flesh of your clit. he rubs your slit up and down, enough to smear your arousal so he can touch you better.

"fuck..." you trail, grabbing the edges of the counter and digging your nails into the hard surface.

"didn't find a boy your age to open you up?"

you shake your head. he hums again, fingers now circling your tight entrance.

"that's a shame, then. i'm gonna have to take my time with you."

"what? why?" you ask, disappointed.

"i'd split you in half, little one."

every word in that sentence sent arrows to your core. fuck, just how big is he?

"then, what are we doing?"

he turns around, leaving you yearning for his touch while he grabs your discarded toy from the armchair.

"you share toys?"

"sometimes."

"good."

he pulls himself out from his pants, and you are left with your jaw dropped. it fuels his confidence, the way you're staring at him as he rubs himself up and down. he isn't big. he's huge.

"daryl, how will that fit in me?" you ask, actually concerned.

"it'll take a little time. i'll train ya, and you'll take it like a good girl, the way i teach ya. but ya have to start listening to me and stop pissing me off."

nodding eagerly, you push your hips towards his hands, searching for his touch again.

he turns the gadget on, pressing it against your clit. you moan out loud, grinding on the buzzing toy and sliding with ease. you hear him grunt, and even a quiet moan. your eyes drop to the situation between your legs, and when you see him pressing his cock to the gadget, you swear you could squirt all over him. he rocks his hips with yours, pushing you up against the wall and grunting in your mouth, just like you moan into his. he doesn't break eye contact with you, instead getting off on it.

"i'm gonna cum, daryl." you whine, hands reaching into his hair to pull.

"give me a second."

you'd give him two if he wanted. you try your hardest to focus on not yet cumming, but the way he sweats and grunts for you doesn't make it easy.

"daryl-" you warn, moans becoming high pitched and inviting the walkers around the shed.

he sticks two fingers in your mouth, keeping you silent and helping himself get closer. you only needed to swirl your tongue around him a few time and take him all the way to his knuckles to have him moaning and cumming all over your stomach, rubbing the toy up and down in a sloppy pace.

you follow, pleasure washing over your body along with a thin layer of sweat, the sight of his seed on you making it more intense. you are dehydrated, hot and filthy. and you love it, because he is the same. you'd be like that every day, if it meant getting him the way you just had him.

"you didn't have to..." you say as he helps you dress up, wiping his seed from you with his bandana and discarding it.

"i wanted to. before, today, too."

"you sure?"

"yes."

you nod. he sees that you are not convinced, and he sighs. he pulls you in for a hug, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"i rarely regret my actions. trust me."

"yeah, well, i hope i'll get more of these actions you speak of."

he chuckles, planting a kiss on your forehead.

"you know, for someone who just came all over me, it's weird to see you so sentimental and comforting."

you don't even finish the sentence, he already playfully throws the bandana at you, rushing outside to hide his smile and to hide from your attempt at attacking.

"oh, you- you- you asshole!"

"right back at ya."

***

yippie! my first twd oneshot, idk how to feel about it lol. had this in the drafts for a while now. feel free to send feedback, doesn’t matter if it is good or bad 🩷

[allurilove]

Yandere x Zombie you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: He’s depressed, gore, murder, death?, he steals someone’s teeth, he tries to fuck you with his… thing, and kidnapping.

*Sorry for not posting! I had to watch TWD to finish this and omg Rick is so fineeeeee. This is pretty unedited. This is also the third fic, and you can read the first, and second for better understanding! He is referred to as “your stalker.” This is purely fictional writing!*

Synopsis: You left him. He fell into a deep depression, not being able to function normally, and he tries to find you again. But trouble seems to follow him where ever he goes, and he has a little run in with a human.

This has been the second time you left him.

When he lifted his head back up, he saw that you were gone. He wiped his tears away and he stayed there on his knees. He doesn’t know how long he’s been there for, his knees slowly becoming numb, and sinking into the ground. He feels the weather change, how cool it becomes when it’s night, and how the birds chirp during the day. He feels the rain pelt him, he sees the grass grow, and the leaves fall down and sees the arrays of yellow and brown. His hair has become longer, a huge bush on his face, and he didn’t know how to function. He didn’t eat, didn’t move, and barely took care of himself. He ignored how his stomach would growl, or how it feels like his body would cave in itself at any moment.

He is now just a part of the sea of zombies, that would be eventually wiped out for human civilization to thrive again. He and you—would be gone. He hoped that there was a way to reverse this. His body has already gone through so much, he’s been eaten on, and generally looked like shit.

If his heart was beating, it would ache. Day and night, he doesnt move from his spot. He doesn’t acknowledge all of the wildlife checking him out, the occasional bunny or deer would sniff him, and he wouldn’t move. He was still as a statue, his eyes hollow, and his limbs were stiff. Soon enough, he flopped over and laid on his back, and stared at the stars.

He would imagine that you were still with him. That you would comment how the stars were so bright, and he would say that they couldn’t hold a candle to you. He would imagine that you two would have a little picnic— to be able to eat edible food instead of human carcass. He would imagine himself wearing his best, and that you would be in yours. That you would treat every outing with him as a date. He would imagine that you and him lived together, eventually getting married, and die old together.

If he died first, he would wish you to live your best life. And if you died first, he would join you. His best life wouldn’t come to fruition if you weren’t living. There was no point being on earth if you werent there with him.

He felt like he was stuck, his body glued to the ground, before he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. He never understood the whole concept of being a zombie, he’s been one for a while, and he feels like he’s failing miserably at it. He touched the bite mark you previously left on him, he sighed as he felt the ridges of your teeth marks, and he closed his eyes.

He would stay there— imaging what his whole life would be like if you just accepted him.

It’s now been years since he has seen you. He has been walking up and down the roads, hiding from humans with guns or knives, and he tried to find you. He wished you didn’t hate him. Or that the damn city you two were in wasn’t so huge.

Your stalker learned a lot from the short time he was with you. You taught him that he didn’t have to ask humans for permission, and that he could just eat them. It was odd at first, and he had to force himself out of the habit of pointing to the human and then back at his mouth. But eventually, he started to feast. To be able to find and recognize the human scent. To be able to spread the virus person to person. He hoped that you would be proud of him.

He continued his journey north, and he found himself at the same place he was last time— when he woke up as a zombie. He first grabbed a bag that was tossed aside, covered in dirt and blood. He then started to find the essentials: razor blades, scissors, rope (to tie you up with), and combs. He then came across a CVS, picking up some magazines incase he gets bored. He hesitated as his hand went to grab some condoms. And he slowly looked down at his crotch. His thing, was officially retired ever since he cut it off and sewed it back on, and he doubts it works like a normal penis does. He dropped the condoms and pushed the door open, and he went back on the road.

He started to learn about the things that zombies do. He also learned that there weren’t many zombies that had the same capabilities like him. Most of them seemed to just run on instinct, and bite at whatever they could. So, it was hard to make any friends.

He came across a restroom at what was presumably a rest stop. He entered the bathroom, and opened his bag. He scrubbed his face clean, and brought out the razor blade. He gently pressed it onto his jaw, praying that he doesn’t nick his skin. Slowly his beard started to disappear, and he then took the scissors started to trim, and style his hair. He looked more presentable this time, and he still looked… dead. But he couldn’t fix that somehow.

He found a man that looked like he was around his size… and your stalker slowly looked down at the pants he was currently wearing. The jeans he wore were tight. And he was pretty sure he was chafing down there, and it was awkward to waddle after your victim. No one exactly took him seriously when he wore pants like these. He bends down and he inspects the dead body, his hands grazing over the full set of teeth the man had.

Dental… was pretty hard to keep up with. He began to pull and even try to bite out the man’s teeth, his hand gripped the man’s lower jaw and he snapped it off. He wanted to find a way to take his jaw off and sew the man’s onto his face, but he ended up just stealing each tooth instead. He shoved them into the slots that were missing teeth, and a couple were stubborn. Not willing to be in a strangers mouth, so he had to force them into his gums.

Your stalker felt like a new man.

It’s been a couple of years since you left him in the woods. You took the opportunity to flee without him noticing, and anyone would be foolish not to do so. You ran for your life, or as fast as your feet could carry you, and you disappeared from him forever.

You traveled up north, dragging your feet to a rest stop, and you passed a body that was missing teeth and pants. Weird.

You’re pretty hungry, your mouth filled with chunks of flesh as you tear the man’s legs apart. You barely swallow and you feel the meat slide down your gullet.

You soon find yourself at a cemetery. It felt like you cheated “death.” All of these people below you, once lived their life to the fullest and unknowingly escaping the apocalypse. While you, a undead being, had to live through it. You were respectful and mindful of where you stepped, and you read some of the tombstones. It was clear everyone here was loved, a bunch of decorations were still up, and vases surrounded each one. Despite the flowers becoming wilted overtime, you knew how much thought and care their loved ones put into it.

You notice a trail of blood on the ground, and you curiously followed it. It was odd to see that, especially in an area as pristine and untouched as the cemetery. You continue to follow it, your feet leading you up to a grave that was dug up. A huge pile of dirt on the side and the gravestone next to it. You wondered if someone crawled out of their grave.

You peer down curiously, trying to look past the clumps of dirt and blood, and you see some skin and bones poking out. A hand twitching and grabbing onto the air as if it wanted to be pulled out.

You waved a branch around above the hand. You weren’t about to sacrifice your body for this random thing. You watched as the hand paused as the branch hit it a couple of times, but then it surged up, grabbing onto the branch. You almost fall into the pit, but your feet plant you onto the ground. You pull and pull, and you see a head stick out.

Your stalker coughed as he was pulled out of his tortuous doom. His eyes immediately land onto yours. They seem to widen, and fill with tears immediately. His top half of his body was now out of the ground, and he wiggled around to hug you. You quickly maneuver your body out of the way, and he hugged a pile of dirt instead. His face nuzzling against nature, his lips puckering into a kiss, and he pulled back as his tongue tasted a worm.

Your stalker whined for you. He threw a little tantrum and all of his frustrations were voiced into little “ooh-“ or “ungh” or “mggggh.” He just wished you could understand him! He’s gone through hell and back just to find you.

Your stalker was so hungry that he used his nose to find a scent of a human, his feet leading him to the cemetery. All until he fell into a pit, dirt falling on top of him and he felt suffocated.

You gape at him, almost impressed by how he seems to pull his whole body up with a wiggle. All of the wind is knocked out of you as he pushed himself on top of you. He seemed to be grateful, his lips pressing kisses on your neck, and his hands hold your hips close to his. If he could speak correctly it would all be praises and compliments.

He then began to gesture at his crotch.

You immediately shook your head to say no, and he pouted. He pointed again. You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms and still said no. He then gestured at your crotch with a sheepish smile, a tiny peek of his pink tongue sticking out.

It took everything within you to not shove him down the pit.

He pulled his pants down, right below his ass, and he shimmed his cock out. It was floppy, not hard and couldn’t get hard since his blood couldn’t flow into it. He bit his lip as he tried to undo the pink stitches.

You haven’t gotten… laid in a while, and there was a man offering himself right in front of you. He pulled at the stitches, undoing the pink thread and his cock hangs off his body. He leans down, using his new teeth to cut it off.

When he got it off, he frowned as his cock was just limp in his hand. He then got an idea. He rammed the branch into his manhood, and he finally got it to stand proud. It sort of looked like a hotdog on a stick. But now he was able to control and maneuver his dick inside you.

He first wanted to see it in your mouth, and to see your cute lips wrapped around his pulsing tip. But you know, this will work for now. He got you to part your lips, his dick prodding its way into your throat.

God it tasted disgusting.

He held your face with one hand, the other pushing his cock in and out of your throat. Your saliva coating it all.

You pulled down your pants, spreading a bit of your legs apart, and you tensed up as he aligned his tip to your entrance. You closed your eyes, not wanting to look at the mangled cock press inside you.

Your stalker been wanting to be with you, and he can’t help but be a bit jealous of the makeshift dildo he made. But he watched with interest, his face close as the dick slides out of you, and his tongue flicked your hole to help with lubrication.

Sure, he wouldn’t be able to cum inside you and mark you as his, but the faces you make as his dick stretched you out so nicely… Fuck. He watched your toes curl, your back arching off the ground, and just to see your legs shake was enough for him.

He pressed kisses on your stomach, his face nuzzling into your body as he moved his hand to pump his cock faster into you.

He would tell you to cum, he would tell you how great you look, and how he would love to eat you out more. But his voice is just soft grunts. As you closed your eyes, the arousal building in your stomach— his hand grabbing his rope from his bag. He pulled the cock out of you, tossing it to the side and he forced you into your stomach. He quickly wrapped your thighs together, your hands, and he took off his shirt to gag you.

You wouldn’t be able to run away from him, you won’t be able to scream, and he smiles hard.

Allure: Not proud of this one. tysm for 870+ followers!!! 🫶🏻 It always makes me nervous to see my account growing, and the fact that many people want to see my writing 😬

[ssvnriseya]

LOVE AFFAIR (R.G.)

summary - you and rick had a forbidden affair that you knew was bad for the both of you, but you loved him and you can't help it.

warning - MDNI 18+ heavy angst, smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it buddy!), cumming inside, rick is a bit of an asshole and a jerk but we love him for it, lowercase intended, mentions of shane, mentions of lori and shane cheating on our poor baby, I think that's it. (lmk if i missed anything.)

notes - i love rick, period, previously the other woman but i changed it to love affair.

masterlist

you glanced at rick as he assisted lori and carl out of the car and onto the little camp you and the group has decided to settle in for the night.

it had been months since the farm fell when it was hit by a herd, months since you and the others have been on the road and were consistently on the run.

it has been months since something happened between you and rick, five months to be exact. you didn't know what happened or how it happened.

you only knew that you and rick needed comfort and stress relief since that night when you and rick were on the top floor of a house your group stayed in for a week.

you and rick were guarding the house from the top of the balcony, well rick was, you were just accompanying him because sometimes you know it gets too lonely.

you were talking his ear off and trying to converse with the man you've liked since the first time you met.

he was older, you were fine with that, it wasn't much of a big problem. it wasn't the thing to stop you from your feelings over him.

he has a wife. that was the thing that would stop you, you've tried to stop liking him but you could not, he was a great leader and he was a great father.

carl is rick and lori's son, he was a teenage boy that was a very sweet guy, he was the reason you met rick. otis has accidentally shot the boy and that brought rick to ask your uncle for help.

you looked away from the family as you bit your lip, staring at the fire embers instead as if it would make the aching pain in your chest go away.

fuck, you can see from the corner of your eyes how lori and rick lovingly held their son as they told him stories and cuddled with him.

"is that how you met mom?"

you could hear carl ask innocently as he looked up into his fathers blue eyes, you tilted your head a bit to the side to look at them and now you wish you didn't.

rick was smiling as he made heart eyes to his wife, the woman also had a smiling face as rick slowly nodded and looked back down at his son.

"yeah, bud. that's how i met your mom." rick nodded as he played with the boy's hair. was it really a good memory that it had them laugh amidst the chaos around the world?

you've never made him laugh, were you not really just funny? you also wanted to make rick laugh, you wanted to be the reason why he was laughing.

he rarely ever smiles when he's with you, whenever your bodies are onto each other or after that. he rarely smiled or laughed.

it was truly a rare moment to see him smile with you, and you would give up everything you had just to see him smile again, because of you.

you're crazy and down bad but whatever, you loved him. what can you do? it's not like you can control who your heart likes or loves.

"share it with us." beth smiled at the couple as she laid her head on your uncle hershel's lap, the old man was stroking the girl's blonde hair as he also looked at the couple.

everyone was looking at the family by now, also wanting to hear a love story once again for the first time since shit hit the fan.

you can feel butterflies form inside your stomach when rick's gaze landed on you, you smiled a bit as you looked away again.

he always had this stupid effect on you. you hate and love it at the same time, you hated it because it shows how weak you are for him, you love it because you love him and only he could make you feel this way.

you can hear the silence of the night as everybody waited for the story or rick and lori, how they met and how their love happened.

you didn't wanna hear it, you can't hear it. it would burn you and hurt you but you can't do anything, others would get suspicious.

maggie was a smart woman, she would instantly figure out what was going on and you didn't want anyone to know what's up with you and rick.

you only pressed your lips into a thin line as you mirrored daryl's usual position, you dazed into the fire as you waited for rick to start the story.

"well, there's this college party my brother and i attended." rick started and you didn't dare look at him while he told the group how he met his wife.

"and?" carl asked impatiently and everyone laughed at the little boy, even you let out a little smile as you quickly wiped it.

"i saw your mom with her friends and we fell in love." rick stated simply as he finished the story in two simple sentences.

"that's it?" beth and carl grumbled as they wanted more, treating it like a bed time story as beth finds it hard to sleep on the cold grass.

"well, lori... she liked to make pancakes on sundays..." rick stated in a teasing voice as lori slapped his arm, also smiling at the memory.

"they weren't great." she instantly informed everyone as she waved at the air like she was trying to clear off the fact that rick tried to make her look like a good cook.

you frowned a little, you were a better cook. you don't burn your pancakes and surely you could do them a little better than lori.

you shook your head and thought about the times the older woman has been kind and generous to you. you can't say things about her just because you love her husband.

you were attracted to her husband yet she was the one who stood like your mother when you and the group were still in atlanta.

"rick doesn't bring lunch to work, he buys them." she chuckled as everyone laughed along with her. you let out a small scoff.

how could rick like her if she doesn't even know how to cook? how could she be a wife without learning how to cook in the first place.

but yet again your cooking skills would be no use if the guy you liked already has a wife and loves her despite her bad cooking skills.

you were glad hershel and beth were between you and the family. you can't stand being that close to rick. you would probably just have broken down.

he wasn't okay with her just a month ago, that's why you were both grinding against each other while everyone was asleep in the next building.

he definitely wasn't okay with her two months back, hence why he claimed that he needed you and only you could make him feel better.

three months back was the worse, lori and rick weren't even in speaking terms despite the woman trying to converse with her husband.

they weren't okay four months ago because lori cheated on rick with shane, thinking that her husband's dead, they weren't okay because she hooked up with rick's best friend.

they started drifting apart five months back when the farm was hit by a herd and shane died, rick wasn't even able to look at her in the eyes.

so when did everything go wrong? they weren't on good terms one month ago and now they're just laughing like a family like everything is back to normal?

maybe everything is back to normal. maybe rick has forgotten the fact that lori had cheated on him or maybe he just forgave her.

maybe it's just because his feelings for her came back and they were willing to try again for carl? maybe they were willing to try again as a whole family?

you took a quick glance at lori's stomach and your heart felt like it was being stabbed multiple times at the same time with different knives.

she was six months along, she was pregnant. none of you knew if it was rick's or shane's but the former was willing to stand up as a father for the baby whether it was his or not.

and that made you sick. he dropped you at the sidewalk to start a family again with the first woman he loved. he dumped you because he wants the four of them as a family.

did you actually mean so little to him? were you just really a bed warmer or a body he could use whenever he was feeling horny or stressed?

but you didn't care, you loved him, right? you don't care if he was using you or not. you would do anything for him because you loved him.

loving him comes along with things, and you were willing to pay for it. you can endure the pain and suffering, as long as you can love him.

you would rather it be that no one loves you than no one loves him. he was your everything and he's great, he deserves all the love in the world.

if letting him go means him being happy, you would let him go a million times. you loved seeing a smile on his face, you loved hearing the sound of his laughter.

your smile at maggie held so much meaning when she offered you a beef jerky that was being passed along the group as rick and lori went on sharing stories.

you passed the beef jerky to your uncle hershel and beth and you accidentally made eye contact with rick. only this time neither of you looked away from each other.

you smiled bitterly as if telling him that you understood, telling him that it was fine, that you were fine. but you weren't and the both of you knew that.

"rick..." you moaned his name as you both kept the pace you had, desperate to get some release. your hands were entangled in his curls as he was kissing your neck.

he was thrusting his hips into you so bad that the bed almost broke, you almost felt bad for the bed if you both weren't so starved for each other.

"please..." you begged as you met his hips, you were nearing and he was too. "ric—" you moaned loudly and rick had to cover your mouth with his hand to keep you quiet.

you would scream his name out loud like it was the only word you knew, but you knew you can't. the group was sleeping on the third floor of the building.

it was too quiet except for the occasional grunts and moans of the passing walkers. it meant that your moans would echo and reach those who were sleeping.

"i-i missed you..." you moaned.

you both were on the ground floor but you knew you would never lose a thing by making sure you were quiet. rick could keep his moans at bay while you? you can't.

it was too much of a pleasure for you and you wanted rick to finish inside you, to have him cumming the same time you are. you wanted to feel close to him more than ever.

"i-i'm coming..." your moaning was muffled by his big hand that almost took over the whole part of your face. you closed your eyes as you tightened up around him and came.

rick groaned in relief as he stopped thrusting and muttered praises as he felt your warm walls tighten up more around him.

"fuck... lori—" he came inside you as you stopped yourself from moving, you were frozen as you gripped his shoulders, pushing him away from you.

"what the fuck?" you stood up once he was off you, he also looked shocked when the word slipped out of his lips. the same lips you loved to kiss.

you searched for your clothes as tears threatened to spill out of your eyes, you found your undies and jeans as you reached for your bra and shirt along with your sweatshirt.

you didn't even dare to turn around and face his stupidly handsome face, you were too scared to do so. he was stuttering as he tried to come up with an explanation.

"what?!" you finally faced him as you started slipping on your undies, followed by your jeans. "you can't fuck her so you fucked me?!" you screamed, you didn't care if anyone heard you at the moment.

"what? is it because she's pregnant or she fucking only wants your best friend fucking her?" you hissed in pure anger.

"it's not—" he started as he tried to grab your arm, you backed away as you put in your shirt followed by your sweatshirt after putting in your bra.

"i'm not—" you sobbed as you stopped yourself from completing your sentence, "i'm not a fucking whore you can k-keep around to fuck when you feel... feel horny!"

"it's not fair how you just fuck me because you want to... or when you want to fuck your wife but forget you can't so you fuck me..." you sniffled as you crouched down.

"i-i love you that's why i always have sex with you." you confessed to him as you hid your face in the palm of your hands.

"it hurts me how you were laughing with her last week when you weren't fine a week ago..." you shook your head, disappointed at yourself.

"i said no strings attached..." rick looked down at you as he also started clothing himself if anyone ever came down due to your screams.

"i know... but i got attached. maybe too much more than before." your voice cracked as you looked up at him, wiping your tears.

"we're—" he started as he ran his right hand over his face and hair, "we're casual." he finished and you nodded several times.

"i-i know rick. i know." you nodded as you slowly stood up as you looked up at him, slowly walking towards him as you wiped your tears away.

"c-can't you try loving me?" you asked once you were standing face-to-face in front of him, voice cracking as he looked anywhere but you.

"i'm sorry." he looked down at the ground as he put a hand in his hips, shaking his head as you reached for his hands. he was breaking your heart and he knew it just by the sobs and whimpers that escapes you.

"please?" you begged as you lifted his head to look at you, pulling your hand away from his hand as you supported the sides of his cheeks.

"i-i can't." he shook his head and he also had tears in his eyes by now, also waiting to spill out any moment. he was shocked how he could hold back his tears.

you were desperate, sad, and angry. maybe this didn't hurt him too much and he really had no feelings for you that's why he can't even spare a tear for you.

"in another life?" you asked as you gave up, your shoulders slumping as you smiled at the older man, caressing his stubble.

"in another life." he nodded finally breaking as he saw your pained smile and at how you were so accepting and understanding.

"i love you, rick." you whispered out as you searched his eyes for any signs that he wanted you too, not the way of you being beneath him but wanting to be with you.

you waited for a second but all you got was silence and his silent sobs. you nodded and smiled again, wiping his tears as he looked down.

"it's okay... i understand..." you assured him as you brought the taller man into a hug, he buried his face into the crook of your neck as you rubbed his back.

maybe you weren't meant to be in this universe. maybe the universe had other plans for the both of you. maybe in the next life... he could finally learn to love you.

he might not love you in this life or universe, the next life and the next one after that but you knew one thing.

you might be the other woman in this universe, in this life. but maybe in another life you could be the one he chose, the one he loved.

you would always be waiting for him.

[xoxochb]

⋆·˚ ༘ * please, please, please

warnings: set during that one scene from ttc, reader is a minor goddess of music/singing (to fit the sabrina carpenter vibe ykwim?), a bunch of quotes are not mine they are direct from the book so credits to uncle rick!! there’s also a lorelai gilmore reference at the end

pairing: apollo x goddess! daughter of aphrodite and ares

“absolutely not”

you give the sun god a look of pleading and he laughs at your desperation

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

you hit his head “yes you do”

“she’s my dear old sister-” apollo begins

“exactly. along with her hunters and others”

“I don’t see the problem”

“the problem is that you can’t control yourself”

“well when I’m around you…”

“oh my gods!” you hit him twice this time “this is what I’m talking about. you’re an idiot”

apollo ignores your comment and drives (??) the sun chariot to the snowy ground

“I beg you do not embarrass motherfucker” you warn

when you step out onto the wet grass and before you have the chance to greet everyone apollo speaks,

"little sister!" he calls "what's up? you never call. you never write. I was getting worried!"

artemis sighs "I'm fine, apollo. and I am not your little sister"

"hey, I was born first."

"we're twins! how many millennia do we have to argue?"

"so what's up?" he interrupted. "got the girls with you, I see. you all need some tips on archery?”

“I need a favor. I have some hunting to do, alone. I need you to take my companions to camp half-blood”

"sure, sis" he then raised his hands in a stop everything gesture “I feel a haiku coming”

the hunters groaned but nonetheless he held up a dramatic hand and began to speak,

‘green grass breaks through snow

artemis pleads for my help

I am so cool’

he grinned waiting for an applause

“last line was four syllables” you point out

apollo frowns "was it?"

"yes” artemis agrees “what about I am so big-headed?"

"no, no, that's six syllables” he starts to mutter to himself but you ignore it, you could be here for days

one of the hunters, zoe you recognized turned to the demigods and explained how apollo had been into haikus since he got back from japan, and said god interrupted her soon after

"I've got it!" he announced "I am so awesome. that's five syllables!" he bowed feeling pleased with himself

"and now, sis” he continues “transportation for the hunters, you say? good timing. I was just about ready to roll”

"these demigods will also need a ride," artemis points to them

"no problem!" apollo checked them out "let's see... thalia, right? I've heard all about you."

thalia blushes "hi, lord apollo"

‘isn’t that his sister?’ you think

"zeus's girl, yes? makes you my half sister. used to be a tree, didn't you? glad you're back. I hate it when pretty girls turn into trees. man, I remember one time-”

you cut him off with an elbow to his stomach, he winces in pain. a black haired demigod- with sea green eyes to differentiate him from the others, he must be poseidon’s- eyes you before asking,

“are you a goddess? how come I don’t recognize you?”

“minor goddess” you confirm “of music. my parents are ares and aphrodite, and unfortunately I am married to this idiot” you give apollo an angry look but he throws an arm around your shoulder

the daughter of zeus chokes on nearly nothing “married?!”

you nod “twelve years”

artemis speaks again “how she can put up with him is a mystery”

“well we should get going” apollo interrupts

“yes, I agree” you say and pull the sun god’s arm off of you, he frowns at the loss of contact

the hunters and demigods pack up their belongings and you pull apollo to the side, he prepares himself for whatever you’re going to say, which he’s sure will be a scolding because he ignored the one thing you asked of him

“listen-” he starts

“how about I talk you listen?” you cross your arms

this was going to be a long scolding…

[sleepyangelkami]

ECHOING NEED c.grimes

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 803

CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - you come home dishevelled as ever after being missing for an entire week and carl attempts to pull the question out of you, where had you been.

 ☆ WARNINGS - blood + gore, violence, ptsd, traumatised reader, mentions of the saviors, medical attention, reader has hair, swearing, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

you sat against the infirmary chair, hair matted against your bloody forehead. the bags beneath your eyes were not a light pinkish colour but a deep purple, eyes cast away, as if your mind was replaying the moments you were trying so desperately to forget.

in all the time that carl had known you, he'd never seen you in such a state.

"you're okay, baby." his words fell on deaf ears, his hands gently soothing against the bloodied fabric of your jeans. in all the while he'd been staring at you, you hadn't dared to look back. "you're safe, you're home."

above him, denise stood over you, attempting to tend to the wound that sat on your forehead. a gash, deep enough, possibly the worst out of all the wounds your body had encountered.

behind him, glenn and rick stood. glenn had been the one to find you.

"help! someone help!" his words caught the resident's of alexandria's ears with evident stress. "somebody help me!"

carl had been standing with his father, ready to give everything up. there was a bag slung across his shoulder and his brows were furrowed together angrily. he was arguing, stating he was able to go find you himself, he wasn't going to wait on the people of alexandria to do their job. they were simply doing it too slow.

then he heard it, the stressed yells from glenn and daryl dixon standing off to the side, his face held little expression, but there was something in his eyes that sent a shiver running down carl's spine.

you, laid in glenn's arms, limp and covered in blood.

you woke in the infirmary minutes after you'd been placed on the bed. then, you'd downright begged to be sat on a chair, you didn't want to lay down, not with the flashing lights above you and everyone standing around, looking down at you.

you'd cried, begged and then you hadn't opened your mouth again.

"sweetheart?" carl had been trying to coax it out of you. what had happened, where you were. ricks questions didn't help and carl rushed forward, stating he could do it. you needed him. always. "what happened?" your eyes slowly turned to him, tears stinging the red outer corners, he'd wondered how long it'd been since you slept. he felt denise walk away, joining rick and glenn. "baby, I need you to talk to me."

you shook your head again, eyes letting the tears fall loose. "carl." you choked out, unable to breathe. all you wanted was to be cuddled up against him in his bed as he read his comics to you.

"hey, you're home, you're home." he sat up on his knees against the chair. his arms slowly wrapped around you. "nothing's gonna hurt you anymore, not while I'm here."

you knew carl enough to know he wasn't lying about that.

"baby, just tell me what happened." his fingers soothed against your hair. "just tell me what happened and it'll all go away."

oh how desperately you wanted to believe that. and in all your pain, throbbing head and haunting memories behind your eyes, your echoing need for your boyfriend was evident. "the saviors." you practically whimpered out, unable to keep it inside for any longer.

"atta girl." you felt him mumble into your hair as he took you into his arms.

for the first time in days, you felt at peace. his arms around you, soothing you gently as he hushed and cooed. you could finally bring yourself to sob, cry and ache for what had happened. carl only felt his own eye tear up lightly. he hated to hear you cry but he held you nonetheless. as much as he despised seeing you upset, he'd rather it be him than anyone else in the world comforting you. and he knew you wouldn't have wanted it any other way either.

it didn't take long for you to fall asleep again, obviously sleep deprived from wherever you'd been. carl didn't hesitate to lift you to the bed, draping a blanket over you and holding your hand gently.

he'd make sure he was the first you'd see when you'd wake up.

by now, it was just you, he and rick in the hospital room. his eye slowly lifted to his father, evident anger on his face. not even anger, pure rage. "I'm gonna fucking kill them."

rick only pursed his lips. "she needs you right now." hoping his son didn't run to do something stupid.

"I know." gazing softly at your sleeping features. "I'll take care of her until she's better. then negan better count his fucking days."

rick couldn't even argue. on the contrary, he and the rest of the group were going to help.

the saviors should know better than to mess with you.

main masterlist/carl's masterlist

[rickgrimesfever]

Rick Grimes Headcanons

Synopsis: SFW and NSFW headcanons of Rick Grimes x fem! reader

SFW:

You cannot convince me that Rick wouldn't be the best boyfriend ever even in the apocalypse.

He's so overprotective especially in the world you're forced to live in now.

He's always walking ahead of you, prepared to take out any walkers that might stumbled across, knowing that you have his back.

His kisses are soft, but they take your breath away.

Rick always kisses you before leaving to do something dangerous or when he's going on a run.

You can see in his blue eyes just how much you really mean to him.

If he doesn't express his love in his physical affection, he definitely does in his words.

His leadership low-key depends on you.

Rick goes to you for reassurance and always ask what you think of the situation before making a decision.

When Negan comes around, you are Rick's comfort and safety.

He loves it when you rub his back and even scratch it.

Rick feels the weight lifting off his shoulders when he can just come lay down on your chest and close his eyes.

This man will kill for you, he probably already has.

Rick gets this dark, stirring look inside of his eyes when someone hurts you.

No words are needed, he'll just march over to whoever hurt you and slit their throat.

Overprotective and definitely a little possessive when Negan comes around.

A hand is always on your back or waist when you're walking together in Alexandria or the Hilltop.

Rick may not always say 'I love you' all the time, but he always expresses his love to you.

Calls you 'angel, sweetheart, or honey'.

Big on the 'sweetheart' though. It's his favorite pet name for you.

Rick has trouble sleeping sometimes, so he usually makes sure you fall asleep first.

There are days when the bags underneath Rick's eyes are popping out and he looks more exhausted than usual.

You'll pull him aside and make him rest your head on your lap, fingers running through his curly locks as he falls into a deep sleep.

NSFW:

Rick could spend hours in between your thighs, tongue sucking on your clit and his fingers shoved inside of you.

He loves when you squirm against him, thighs trembling as his hands are steady on your hips.

Rick is very vanilla in bed, but he's not against new ideas.

He likes missionary because he can see your face and shower your face in kisses.

He definitely whispers dirty things into your ear as he's thrusting in and out of you.

One thing that is definitely off limits in bed is any sort of pain.

Maybe a few spanks, but he would never be rough with you.

Rick hates it when you're in pain, so he would refuses to do anything that might potentially hurt you.

He wants to make sure that you're comfortable and that he's giving you pleasure.

Rick tries his hardest to make you cum first, but there are times when he just can't help it.

Don't worry though, your man will make sure you cum at least three times then.

If you decide to get down your knees, Rick's hand is wrapped around your hair, tugging on it.

Something lights up inside him when you stuff your cock inside of your mouth.

Rough sex is not often, but only when the two of you are a mood and both consent.

Rick makes sure that you have a safe word, but you know deep down that you'll never have to use it.

Rick's aftercare is pretty basic.

He'll clean you up, make sure you're okay and pull you into his arms, cuddling until you fall asleep.

[carlsangel]

WORTH IT

carl grimes x fem!reader

(you’re hostage at the sanctuary.)

tags: htc, angst to fluff! warnings for death!

masterlist here!

You were starting to wonder if the fighting would ever be worth it. Worth the pain, the deaths, the sacrifices. It all seemed pointless. No matter how hard you guys tried, no matter how much you planned out, Negan was always steps ahead.

He had everything. He had the people, he had guns, he had the power.

Most importantly, he had you.

The day you and Carl had broken into the sanctuary, after returning home you thought that’d be it. You would’ve paid for the price for breaking in later, all he wanted was to see Rick and take your shit and that would be that. But he wanted Eugene. And he wanted you, too. He said you were a good fighter, but most importantly you were good collateral.

You expected being held hostage by Negan would be more traumatic than it actually was. You’d expect to be locked in a room with no food or water. Turns out, they treat some of their hostages like royalty. You and Eugene were separated but you were given your own room with everything you could possibly need.

It’s almost like he wanted you to feel grateful to be there. He’d given you everything. New clothes, fresh food, some form of power so you can get whatever you want whenever. All because you’re valuable to Carl, who was valuable to Rick. They couldn’t do anything because then they’d hurt you. That’s the last thing anyone wanted. It’s the last thing Carl wanted.

It killed him, it really did. He believed you’d be treated horribly at the sanctuary and he had every reason to believe that. He did everything in his power to convince his dad to go retrieve you. And he did.

It’d been maybe a day or two after Negan had taken you and Eugene. You hadn’t seen Eugene at all since, but the morning of, you had the chance to see him in the hallway. You thought maybe there’d be a chance he’d help you with an escape plan, he’s smart. All he did was walk past you like you were nothing. You stood in the hallway appalled, like he was a completely different person.

You continue down the hallway, swallowing the lump forming in your throat from the feeling of pure helplessness as you approach the laundry room. You’d given them Carl’s flannel with all your clothes to wash when you arrived. You notice the couple of workers inside, scrubbing the clothes relentlessly. “Um…hi.” you squeak out, waiting for them to notice your presence over the loud sounds of splashing water. One of them notices you and taps the lady beside her to look at you. “S’there somethin you need?” She asks. You fiddle with your hands, trying to look around for what’s yours.

“I arrived two days ago…I’m looking for my clothes…but I don’t need them I just need my flannel back.” You explain nervously, hoping they didn’t do anything with Carl’s flannel. They sigh and look around, wiping the sweat off their faces when a woman finds it in a random basket. She wipes her hands off on herself and picks it up, wrapping it up and tossing it to you. You smile and thank them before retreating back into the hallway, grinning as you pull his blue flannel over your shoulders, feeling some sort of comfort for the first time in a couple days.

You return back to your room and just sit on the bed in there, looking around trying to think of something you can do to get out when you hear a knock on your door, followed by a voice you hate to here. Negan. “Knock-knock!” His voice is taunting. You roll your eyes and stand up, walking over to open the door to his obnoxious face. You don’t speak a word. “Well hi there.” he smiles, setting his bat against the doorframe. Your face remains flat.

“I know how hard this is on ya darlin, I do. I’m sure you’re missin eye patch back home but you gotta understand why I’m doin this.” He welcomes himself into your room, pacing a little before stopping in front of you. You still say nothing.

“Well since you insist on keepin your mouth shut I’ll just get outta your hair. Stay outta trouble, I need you alive.” He says, walking towards the door. “And please, do me a favor, stay away from Eugene. I don’t need you two plottin against me.” He smiles. When you still say absolutely nothing, he waves sarcastically.

He leaves you alone once again. You’re still unsure of what to do, but you eventually muster up the courage to walk around the Sanctuary. You have the freedom (sort of) and power to do so. You walked around and wandered outside, watching people work, transporting boxes and such. You walk around some more, kicking the rocks on the ground when you feel a glare in your eyes. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion but when you look up to the woods, you see someone. You can’t exactly make out who it is but you can tell that they’re holding a gun.

As soon as you make that realization, you hear soft popping noises, followed by the sound of bodies falling to the ground. You look around you to the men and guards working to see they’re all fallen to the ground. You have the urge to just run, but you hear a voice before you do. You turn back around to see Rick who’s cutting a hole in the wired gates.

“Cmon we need to go. Now.” He whispers loudly. You run over to him, trying to ignore the ruckus behind you of walkie-talkies wondering why no one was responding. You didn’t have much time to get out before someone noticed. You two practically sprinted to the wooded area nearby.

“Was that you?” You ask him, referencing to the glare from the woods. “It was us. But not me.” He explains as you enter the woods. You’re confused at first because what the fuck does that mean. Then it clicked that he wasn’t alone.

You walk through the woods a bit more until you reach the road, approaching a car that Carl was standing on the other side of. He notices you and immediately runs over to you, enveloping you in a big hug. He held you so tightly, all you felt in the moment was pure love. He pulls back and smiles before looking around your body.

“What?” You ask as he’s pulling up your sleeves and pushing hair out of your face, looking for any injuries. “Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you?” He looks at you confused, like he’d expected you’d come out injured.

“No they didn’t hurt me at all.” You reply, letting him hug you once more. Rick interrupts and explains the situation. “Rosita and Sasha are goin in later to get out Eugene. We’ve got other business to attend to; gotta get you to the Kingdom so they don’t go lookin at Alexandria for you.” He explains, loading his bolt cutters into the trunk. You shake your head at him, pulling away from Carl’s arms. “No. He’s too far gone. He’s one of them now.” You say with a slight sniffle. Rick doesn’t respond, he just has a sort of grim expression.

The three of you load back into the car, you and Carl sitting in the backseat so he can hold you while you drove home. He ran his fingers through your hair as you leaned onto him, occasionally kissing the top of your head. It was a peaceful ride home. You’d face the consequences later. All that mattered right now was you and Carl.

a/n: writing this made me realize idk how to write fem!readers so if anyone has advice lmk :< but i hope u liked it i thought it was fun! it’s not episode accurate so pls ignore that :P

[panda-noosh]

authors note: oh hey. enjoy!

ask me about commissions!

--------

this is Daryl's fault.

all Daryl's fault, as most things tend to be nowadays.

this isn't the first time you've been held captive in the three years since you joined Rick's group. in fact, you get captured at least once every fortnight, but you always took it as a sign you were doing your job right; hunters cannot be hunters without a brief spell of missteps, and getting caught by the enemy is usually high on the list of scenarios that could take place. by now, you are used to it.

but this is different, because it's Daryl's fault, and that makes it ten times worse.

the rope holding your wrists together is painful, skin already red raw despite the fact you've only been tied up for an hour. Daryl tells you it will hurt less if you stopped trying to maneaveur your wrists enough to flip him off, but that doesn't stop you from continuing your attempts.

the walls are oozing condensation. it drips onto your head, slides down your nose, gets in your eyes, and it smells like damp. mould grows in the cracks in the floor. mice dart in front of you, as if boasting the fact they are free to roam and you aren't.

the worst part is, your knives are nowhere to be seen.

"i didn't even see them take them off me!" you exclaim. beside you, Daryl has barely moved. his hands and feet are tied in the same way yours are, but he's putting up no fight to get free, or even loosen them. he keeps his head down, shoulders sagging, shifting every now and then with his ragged breaths. you can't make out his expression due to the curtain of dirty brown hair shielding his face, but you would like to think his expression is one of pure guilt and sorrow for being the idiot who got you both captured in the first place.

"oi," you hiss. "a little communication would go a long way right now."

"what do you want me to say?" he bites; anyone else would back away from that tone, but you're not anyone else. you're the person put on this earth to be a pain in Daryl Dixon's ass, and that's exactly what you plan to be.

"i want a plan," you reply. "the others are expecting us back before nightfall."

"we're not getting back before nightfall."

"not with that attitude." you sigh, doing yet another pointless scan of the room - well, dungeon more like, considering the amount of rock and concrete there is. "how long has it been since they left? do you think they'll feed us?"

"we're not dogs, y/n," he grumbles. "we're hostages. chances are, next time we see them, it'll be so they can slit our throats."

"i didn't really get that vibe off them, to be honest. i know we're tied up and everything, but i think we can negotiate."

finally Daryl looks up, bloodshot eyes bored. "don't even try. things always go tits up the minute you open your mouth."

your jaw drops open. "are you serious? how can you say that when you're the one who got us into this situation in the first place?"

Daryl rolls his eyes, looking away. "i never asked you to come with me."

"yeah, well, someone has to keep you from killing yourself."

"you can keep me from killing myself, but not getting kidnapped?"

"i'm not a miracle worker."

Daryl scowls. you scowl back, even though he's not looking at you. it would be so easy some days to just punch him square in the face, but you've never let yourself get that far. at the end of the day, and as tough as it is to admit it, Daryl is the only one in the group you can properly talk to, whether he likes it or not. everyone else is too. . . flowery, too keen on sparing your feelings. they know what you've been through, and that effects everything they do when in your presence.

Daryl isn't like that, and for some reason, it feels safer to be with someone who tells you the truth, and nothing but the truth. sometimes, it feels safer to be with someone who hates your guts.

still, that doesn't mean he doesn't drive you completely mad. the way he chokes up in stressful situations, offering no help or communication - this is a life or death situation, and yet he still insists on kneeling there with his thumb up his ass. you could scream. in fact, you're so mad at his silence that you're being driven into your own silence, unable to come up with a plan when you're so angry at the idiot beside you.

he's a domino effect. a bad one. a domino avalanche.

you sigh heavily, closing your eyes, tilting your head against the concrete wall behind you. Daryl glances over, but neither of you get a chance to continue arguing - as much as you'd love to - before the rickety wooden door on the other side of the room creaks open. light spills in, blinding you, but you don't let your discomfort show. instead, you stare right into it, waiting for the face of your captor to appear, because you don't remember it all too well. they were wearing balaclavas for one, the smart bastards, but you can imagine they're young with the shabby way they've tied you up, and the complete whim of which they decided to-

"what the fuck."

two people come into view once the door is closed. their faces are lit only by the flashlights they carry, but the puny yellow light is enough to show the wrinkles indented in their leathery skin. the flashlights shake from elderly trembles, held by veiny, pockmarked hands damaged from years - years - of hard labour never soothed by retirement.

you and Daryl share a look; something isn't right. these can't be the same people who managed to pin you to the ground and tie you up.

that would be too embarrassing to even fathom.

"are you awake?"

the voice is frail but commanding.

"yes," you reply, earning a glare from Daryl that you ignore. "quite hard to sleep on concrete."

the flashlight pivots in your direction. you wince.

"right, stop blinding me, would you?"

"what's your name?"

"who's asking?" Daryl grunts.

the stranger - the male - steps closer. "the people who have the power to kill you, or let you go. i suggest you cooperate."

you stare at Daryl, hoping to God he can feel what you're trying to say through gaze alone; he needs to work with these people. they didn't come in here guns blazing, which means there is room for release if they just cooperate, but that word has never been something Daryl fully understands. right now, you need him to understand. right now, you need him to use his brain, need him to-

he spits on the concrete, right at the mans feet.

you close your eyes, resisting the urge to start cursing.

"go to hell," he growls.

the man steps back and wraps an arm around the female's waist. she curls into him, shooting daggers at Daryl as she places one hand on her husband's chest, as if protecting him from Daryl's lack of manners. you really can’t say you blame her.

“there’s no need for the hostility,” the man says. “we did what we had to do; you can’t trust anyone nowadays.”

“the wise thing would have been to leave us. kill us, even.”

“he doesn’t mean that,” you hasten to add.

daryl shoots you a glare before continuing. “instead you tie us up and bring us to your base. what good is that going to do?”

“it keeps us in control,” the female replies. “just because we want the upper hand, doesn’t mean we want you dead.”

daryl scoffs. “biggest load of horseshit i’ve ever heard.”

“do you want us to kill you? because, young man, that can easily be arranged,” the man growls.

your heart jumps in your chest; this isn’t going as smoothly as it could be going, all because daryl can’t keep his mouth shut. he’s the quietest guy in the group when he shouldn’t be, and the biggest loud mouth when he should.

your brain work at a mile a minute as daryl and the elderly couple have a stare down. it’s your first instinct to scan the room for any weaponry, but then you imagine yourself actually slaughtering this elderly couple, and your stomach twists; there has to be another way, some kind of reasoning you can find, even ground you can all agree-

your eyes land on the wedding bands on the couple’s fingers.

you don’t even fully process the next words out of your mouth, just dive head first into the ridiculous idea that has suddenly sprung to your mind. “look, i’m so sorry about my husband. he gets grumpy when he’s tired.”

daryl’s head snaps around, mouth open,ready for a retort, but you’ve stated digging the hole, and you’ll be damned if you let him ruin it now.

“i’m sure you understand, being a married couple and everything.” you laugh nervously. “we were actually just talking before you came down - we think i’s so admirable that you two have grown old together. it’s the kind of marriage we want. of course, the cards we’ve been dealt make that a little more difficult, but hope prevails.” you look at daryl and smile. “hope prevails. isn’t that what you said, dear?”

daryl only stares.

the elderly couple share a glance. if you’re not mistaken, they look almost sympathetic, and when they look back at you and daryl, their expressions have changed entirely, watered down to something you can certainly work with.

“i’m sorry,” you chuckle, waving a dismissive hand. “i always get carried away when it comes to taking about him. we’re newly weds, you see - got married just a few weeks before the news broke about. . . well, everything.”

“oh, goodness,” the female gasps, wrinkled hand covering her mouth. “you poor souls. did you at least get to have your wedding?”

“a tiny one,” you reply. “people were isolating, you see. my own mother, god rest her soul - she never made it. we had to put her down the day after.”

the woman shakes her head like this is the worst story she’s ever heard come out of the apocalypse. you glance at daryl, urging him with your eyes to play along, though you have very little hope you’ll ever get him to tart spewing bullshit marriage stories. the least he can do is stay quiet - that’s all your asking.

“we’re married, though, and we’re together,” you continue. “that’s what we’re focusing on.”

“yes, of course,” the man says. “do you . . . do you have a home to go back to?”

“a group, actually,” you reply. “we have a few young’un’s waiting for us. don’t tell anyone, but i think of them as our children now. they’re probably worried sick.”

the couple share yet another glance, and you know you’ve got them. when it comes to old married couples, the idea of a young couple mirroring their experience with marriage is always an easy fix; if you want anything, just tell them it’s because you want to end up like them, old and in love. they fall for it every time.

the woman inhales shakily, letting her hand drop to her side before she pulls a knife from a tiny sheath in her leggings; you almost whistle appreciatively at the blade, how shiny and well-kept it is, nothing like your own which have grown almost completely dull with age and overuse, and very little care on your part.

she walks over and slices the ropes from daryl’s hands, and then she steps back and waits. you blink at the scene, waiting patiently for her to make her way over to you to do the same, but she doesn’t. she just stares at daryl, lips pursed.

she’s waiting for him to make a big scene about being released.

what would a young, married man do in this situation? probably rush to his significant others side, smother them with kisses, ask them if they’re okay. daryl just rubs the raw skin on his wrists, cursing quietly under his breath, seeming almost oblivious to the audience watching him.

panic grips your chest. you have to do something before they realise something isn’t right.

“baby, you’re free!” you exclaim.

daryl’s head whips around. “huh?”

“you’re free!” you repeat. “come here, let me make sure you’re alright.”

daryl raises a brow, but he’s at least got the common sense not to say anything in the presence of your captors. slowly, he crawls over and kneels in front of you, confusion still etched on his expression. you rake your eyes over him dramatically, feigning worry; in truth, he looks to be in better form than you are, his wrists not even raw from the ropes.

“what are you-“ he begins.

“you’re okay!” you throw yourself forward, letting him catch you, and then you do the extreme part of the plan. without warning, you press your lips to his. he grunts against your mouth, eyes widening, fingers curling around your biceps, but he doesn’t pull away, and you almost sob in relief. you were fully expecting him to shove you to the floor, probably fight his way out of this dungeon and leave you for dead. instead, he goes still against you, but his lips don’t leave your own. you’re almost tempted to push your luck and stick your tongue in his mouth just to piss him off, but there’s a time and place for things like that, and it certainly isn’t here and now.

you keep the kiss short and sweet, pulling away with a smile you hope is convincing. the elderly couple are looking at you like you’ve hung the moon and the stars in the sky; apparently the kiss was all they needed, as the man walks over and finally cuts the ropes binding your wrists. the cold air against the raw skin makes you hiss in pain, but you don’t let it take you from the character you have suddenly developed. as soon as you’re free, you throw your arms around daryl’s neck and drag him in to a hug. his hands hover at the small of your back.

you turn your head and whisper in his ear, “play along, you son of a bitch. i’m trying to get us out of here alive.”

he drops his hands, wrapping you in his arms. a warmth spreads through you, an odd sense of relief tat you don’t want to acknowledge when you’re in this position with daryl dixon.

“you two get home safe,” the man says, his voice being the only thing to remind you and daryl that you can actually let go of each other now. “tell your folks we’re sorry. we didn’t mean no harm.”

you pull away from daryl. he keeps his arm around your waist, tugging you into his side like the old little actor you never knew he could be. “thank you. honestly. we appreciate this.”

daryl gives a nod, which is probably all you should expect from him.

and with a final goodbye to your captors, you walk up the stairs and into the night.

——

daryl doesn’t speak the whole way back to camp. you didn’t really expect him to.

nonetheless, you still try. you would hate to go back to camp with all this tense energy between you, a direct result of daryl’s inability to communicate like a regular human being.

he barrels ahead of you, letting all the branches swing back in your face. usually you would tell him to fuck off and stop being a child, but it’s obvious what happened has shocked him, and the last thing you want to do is make it worse.

maybe you shouldn’t have kissed him. maybe you shouldn’t have let things get that far. hell, you probably could have worked out some way to get free without telling lies, but in the heat of the moment, it was the only thing you could come up with.

it worked, didn’t it?

“daryl!” you holler after him. “daryl, come on. slow down.”

“keep up,” he shoots back.

“are you mad at me?”

he tugs on the ropes holding the prison gates together; in the distance, glenn stands atop one of the watchtowers, watching you like a hawk.

you grip daryl’s arm. “are you mad?”

he pulls away and glare before finally getting the gate open; he doesn’t give you a reply, instead storming off without another word, which you suppose is answer enough.

you follow him into camp, eyes cast to the floor in any attempt to hide your emotions from anyone you might come across; it doesn’t matter that you’ve been gone for hours - you don’t want to explain why daryl has marched off in a huff, because that will be the first thing they ask you. always you, like you’re tied to the man in some way.

you make your way to the canteen without seeing anyone. you slump in one of the metal chairs and finally take time to rub at the raw skin of your wrist; it burns, but the sting is familiar at this point. you could easily go another few days before having it looked at, but of course hershel has other plans.

“you’re like a bloodhound,” you say, sensing his presence in the doorway.

the click of his cane echoes. “what happened?”

“what always happens - we got in shit, got out of shit. now we’re here.”

“now you’re here.” hershel kneels in front of you, taking your wrist for examination. “where’s your other half got to?”

you wince. “don’t call him that. he’s nothing of the sort; especially not right now.”

hershel raises a brow. “no?”

you sigh, looking at the ceiling; hershel is one of those men you are able to trust with anything, the grandfather of the group after dale died. you have told him secrets, confided in him with embarrassing questions, but he has never judged you. in fact, nine times out of ten, he knows what you’re going to say before you’ve even said it. still, he expects you to make an effort, which is why he doesn’t fill in the blanks, just inspects your wrist whilst waiting for you to speak.

“it’s complicated.” your go-to statement when it comes to daryl. “we ran into some people, and we had to. . . play pretend, and i don’t think daryl appreciated it very much.” you wince, cheeks burning. “did i violate the poor guy?”

“i’ll need more details before i can answer that.”

you hesitate. “we kissed.” hershel’s head snaps up, but you’re quick to clarify. “we had to kiss. the only way we were going to get free was by pretending we’re a married couple.”

hershel blinks. “i’ve. . . never heard of that tactic before.”

“either have i, but it worked like a fucking charm.” you sigh. “only problem is-“

“daryl’s huffing.”

“yep.”

hershel shakes his head, muttering almost to himself. “i don’t understand that man. he makes absolutely no sense.”

“he has every right to be mad,” you say. “it took him off guard, and we all know daryl doesn’t like surprises.”

“yes, but. . .” hershel shakes his head, taking your wrist again. “never mind. i’ll have a chat with him; i want to check him over anyway.”

——

the days pass, and daryl continues ignoring you.

you’re very good at pretending this doesn’t bother you; the group are absolutely none the wiser, not mentioning daryl to you once. however, you refuse to be in denial - you have greatly pissed daryl off, and you don’t like it.

your hunting trips aren’t the same without him. they’re lonely, and boring, and too quiet; you never realised how often you turned to him when it was just you in the woods, and no one else, how often you leaned on him to take your mind off everything going wrong in the world. without him, these hunting trips are almost scary.

of course, it would be easy for you to approach him, just ask if he wanted to hunt, but you can’t throw your pride away like that.

so you spend the next few days trying to distract yourself from his ever-looming presence. he stands in the corner of the room during group meetings, arms folded, avoiding your gaze. the fact he finds it so easy to completely block you out is a punch to the gut, but you refuse to let it get to you.

you will not be the first one to break.

two weeks pass with no disturbances at the prison. days actually start to grow boring, a repetitive cycle of prison upkeep and hunting that drives you insane. you tell carl this as the two of you sit on the floor of the courtyard, watching the small pile of walkers cling to the gates; you and rick fixed them up yesterday, so you’re in no rush to get up.

carl scoffs at your complaint. “have we not earned a little boredom?”

“yes,” you grumble. “i knew you were going to say that. make me feel all bad and stuff.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad.” he shrugs. “i’m enjoying the boredom.”

“not like you.”

“keeps dad calm. can’t ask for much more than that.”

you nod. “fair enough, i suppose. fair-“

carl suddenly lurches forward, eyes narrowed. immediately your knife is in your hand and you're joining him, one hand on his shoulder, the other curled around the hilt of your knife.

you don't need to ask him what he's looking at, because you see it instantly, the one breathing being amongst the dozens of corpses clawing at the gate.

"fuck," says carl.

"watch your mouth." and then you're both on your feet, sprinting for the gates. you catch glenn's attention up in the watch tower and wave your hand above your head, signalling for him to get the others. your heart pounds with an adrenaline you haven't felt in days, you're dizzy with it, on the verge of-

you nearly trip over your own feet when you finally get a glimpse of who the person is.

the same woman who watched you kiss daryl. the same woman who took you captive and forced you into this situation.

the same woman who let you go when she could have easily slit your throat.

"carl, wait!" you grab his arm and yank him back. "i know her."

carl doesn't lower his gun, merely glances up at you with a raised brow.

you step forward, pushing him behind you. the woman meets your eyes and continues to yell, slamming her hands desperately against the wire fence; a few walkers have already noticed her, slowly peeling away from their group and making their way towards her. by the looks of things, she doesn't even have a weapon; she's come here out of pure desperation.

"what's going on?" rick hollers, sprinting down the hill with most of the group close behind. "y/n?"

"open the gates!"

"what-"

"open the gates!" you demand, before thrusting your knife through the fence and into a walkers brain.

you ignore the confusion happening behind you and just hope they're following your orders. you continue to stab and yell, drawing the dead away from the terrified woman and towards you.

it doesn't take long for daryl to join you, though you aren't sure who he's doing it for. even though this woman showed you kindness, she is still the one who kidnapped you in the first place; you aren't sure if daryl would appreciate her presence near him again. and yet he takes the walkers down without hesitation, even helping glenn and rick rip the gate open, allowing the old woman in.

she's disgruntled to say the least, gasping and stumbling. she collapses at your feet, and that's where she breaks down completely. tears streak the mud caking her face, dripping into a mouth held open in absolute horror. her grey hair is matted with blood, and her husband is nowhere to be seen.

you glance at daryl, and for the first time in days, he looks back.

"someone grab her," rick orders.

"no," you bark, pushing maggie back. "can't you see she's distraught?"

"that doesn't matter," rick fires back. "we don't know who she is, how she found-

"y/n said no."

all heads turn to daryl. he meets everyone's gaze, letting them know he is not one bit intimidated before looking back at the woman. too caught up in daryl's overall presence, you hadn't even noticed the woman go silent, flicking her gaze between you and daryl like you're some kind of spectacle.

you kneel next to her. "hello again."

----

you and daryl decide to talk to her together. nobody else allowed in the room.

he's nervous, or furious - you don't really know which one. he paces back and forth, crossbow not leaving his hands once; rosalie stares with wide eyes, glancing at you like she expects you to do something about it.

you have a sip of your water. "you can ignore him if you want. he never really adds anything to the conversation anyway."

daryl whirls. "you know, your little jokes really aren't handy in situations like this."

"good thing i don't give a fuck-"

"no, of course not. everything's just a big game to you."

"why are you yelling? you think that's going to-"

"please."

rosalie's voice is barely a whisper, but you hear it nonetheless. she sounds so fragile, so broken - so much so that you actually feel guilty for being so hostile in front of her. you have been in this interrogation room for nearly twenty minutes, doing nothing but bicker with daryl.

"please," she repeats, not looking up. "don't fight. we don't need any more of that in this world, especially between two people who love each other."

daryl stiffens, and you wince. that's right - she thinks you and daryl are married.

you fold your arms on the metal table. "rosalie. sorry. look, you have to understand why daryl and i have been sent to talk to you. this - you showing up out of nowhere. . . it looks a little weird. we just need some answers."

"why are you here?" daryl demands.

you shoot him a glare and repeat the question, softer this time. "why are you here, rosalie?"

she sniffs, wipes her nose on her blood stained sleeve. "our base got ambushed. patrick didn't make it; they got him while he was trying to protect me." she squeezes her eyes closed. "i ran out and just. . . kept running. your prison was the first place i came across that looked like it had any sign of life." she opens her eyes again. "i didn't know it was you two. i promise i didn't."

"bullshit," daryl scoffs. "it don't matter that you just kept running. this place is in the asshole of nowhere. you couldn't have found it unless you had us followed that day."

rosalie's eyes widen, darting to you for support you can't give her. despite daryl being a known drama queen, he also has a point right now. rosalie could have ran for days, but the chances of her finding the prison without forewarning of it's whereabouts are slim.

daryl stalks over, leaning close to rosalie's terrified face. "what do you want?"

she pulls back, and you don't miss her wince when she does. "i-i don't want anything you're not willing to give. i just needed a place to rest. i'm exhausted."

"you think we should give you anything after-"

"where are you hurt?"

daryl looks down at you, that familiar glint of frustration in his gaze. it's a look you've become accostomed to, so it's easily ignored, especially when you're focused on something else. you didn't notice it at first, but the wince rosalie makes every time she moves is becoming increasingly suspicious.

rosalie stares for another few seconds, as if waiting for you to retract your question. you lean forward, pushing your knife closer with your elbow.

"i've been nice to you," you say. "and i'll continue to be nice if you tell me where you're hurt. why you're hurt."

daryl stiffens. "a bite?"

you narrow your eyes. "i don't know."

rosalie shakes her head violently, fresh tears beginning to leak down her face again. "i'm not bitten! i swear i'm not bitten!"

you grab your knife. "show us."

immediately she scrambles to her feet and yanks up the hem of her pink jumper, revealing not a bite, but what looks like a nasty burn mark. still, you and daryl have been through this before, are both well aware that there's no such thing as being too cautious when it comes to injuries. it's an unspoken routine when daryl grabs rosalie's arms and tosses you the flashlight always strapped to his belt. you catch it with ease, shining it on the throbbing, wrinkled mess on rosalie's hip.

"well?" daryl grunts.

"looks like a burn." he drops her; she lands back in her chair with a clatter.

you glare at daryl.

he plucks his flashlight from your fingers. "now what? we keeping her here or not?"

"you're letting me decide?"

daryl shrugs, but you don't miss the tiny blush rising to his cheeks, one he tries to hide by going back to his pesky pacing.

you decide to leave the teasing till later, instead turning to rosalie. "hershel will want to check her over."

"why does hershel have to know? send her out on her ass without telling him, he's gonna be none the wiser."

you raise a brow. "you're not really that evil. the tough guy act doesn't work on me." and just to add salt to the wound, you add, "we're married, remember?"

daryl scowls, but that blush only gets more pronounced. you're finding this quite fun.

"okay," you say to rosalie. "we're gonna get our medic to look you over. that burn doesn't look too good. once he's said it's alright, the group should have some idea of what to do with you."

rosalie hollows out her cheeks, slumping back. "thank you." "don't thank us yet," daryl grumbles. "we aint decided yet."

----

daryl lets you in his cell that night.

it's the first time in a while he's let you follow him to bed, the first time in a while you've actually wanted to. after everything that happened when you were captured, it seems almost. . . inappropriate, even though these little sleepovers have never been anything more than a platonic comfort for you both, just having someone there to exist with.

daryl doesn't invite you in or anything, simply lets you hover in the doorway as he sits crosslegged on his bed, busy sharpening an arrow.

you fold your arms, watching him. it's always jarring to see him like this - sitting still, doing something slow paced. he's the type of man you expect to always be in motion, like he might cease to exist otherwise. when he's sitting still, you can admire everything about him, and there's nothing he can do about it.

"you didn't like it, did you?"

you say it because that's really the only thing you need to say, the only elephant in the room. judging by the way he freezes, it's obvious he knows it too.

"i thought it was our only chance of getting out of there." you shrug. "you know me and my stupid ideas. i should have asked you first."

"you admitting you were wrong?"

you hold your hands up. "just 'cause the word 'sorry' melts your brain, doesn't mean it melts mine."

he glares through the tops of his eyelids, making you grin.

you step into his cell. "i'm just messing. i really am sorry."

"stop apologising," he grumbles. "fuck, it worked, didn't it? we got out alive."

"alive and wed."

he scoffs, but it's close enough to a laugh that you make your way over to his bed and take a seat. he goes back to sharpening his arrows, and suddenly it's just like old times. it was only two weeks of his silent treatment, but you still missed the evenings spent just like this, watching him work, those calloused hands so skilled in anything he puts them to. you can imagine a ring on his knobbly finger, though you aren't sure why the image sends heat racing through you.

"have you ever been in a relationship before?"

the question takes you by surprise; it's not the kind of thing daryl would ever ask about, not a topic he particularly cares about. when you look at him, he keeps his head down, tongue gliding across his bottom lip.

you shift on the bed, bringing your feet under you. "not a serious one, no. i'm better on my own, i think."

"ain't that what they all say?"

"what about you? have you ever had that special person?"

he pauses a moment too long. your heart jumps, a flood of some dark, grim feeling filling your body before you can get a hold of it.

you clap a hand over your mouth, gasping dramatically. daryl groans, lifts his head to tell you to shut up, but you need to bury this burning jealousy somehow, and the only way you can come up with is by embarrassing the shit out of daryl.

"you have, haven't you?" you grab his arm. he lets out a hiss of pain, drawing his arm back to reveal a droplet of blood welling on his finger.

you flinch back. "shit, sorry!"

daryl glares, placing his finger between his lips, and holy god, why is the room getting so stuffy? why can't you stop staring at his lips? those same lips you kissed only two weeks ago, those lips you have tasted, those lips-

"i've never been in a relationship," he grumbles, snapping you out of your daze.

"i don't believe that," you scoff. "a fine, sociable man like yourself? surely the ladies were dropping at your feet."

daryl rolls his eyes. "funny."

"seriously though. never?"

"don't act so surprised. you haven't either."

"yeah but that's. . . different. i'm . . . me."

daryl freezes, eyes snapping up to meet yours. "what's that supposed to mean?"

"well, i'm not exactly the best person to-"

"shut up y/n. you're ridiculous."

your eyebrows rise. "woah, okay. fuck you, dixon."

he just shakes his head, going back to his arrow sharpening. this is what he does, one of the many things that infuriate you about him; he will say or do something entirely out of pocket, and then go silent when you confront him on it.

but it's been years, and you're used to it by now. taking a deep breath, you try steering the conversation someplace safer. "you know if rick decides to let rosalie stay, we'll have to pretend we love each other."

he flicks his eyes up. "why do we?"

"well, she thinks we're married."

"who gives a fuck what she thinks? she's our prisoner now."

you roll your eyes, exasperated. "don't call her a prisoner. we're not tyrants, daryl."

"everyone's a tyrant."

"she came to us." you sigh. "we could just stay away from each other if you think that's easier."

his reply is quick, almost panicked. "what good will that do? married couple it is."

just to really seal the deal, you shake hands. it goes quiet after that, neither of you knowing what to say or how to proceed. still, you don't leave his cell, enjoying his presence more than you would ever willingly admit. despite him being a complete pain in the ass, he's still your closest friend in this place, the guy who knows you better than anyone. the guy who somehow managed to break down every wall you've ever put up, all whilst keeping his perfectly in tact.

---

rosalie is released from the infirmary and put under watch, but she is still free to roam the halls of the prison. rick decided an injured, unarmed, grieving old lady isn't much of a threat in the grand scheme of things, and you weren't going to argue. you have no problems with rosalie besides the fact you have to get uncomfortably close to daryl when she's around.

again, this isn't something that ever bothered you; once upon a time, you and daryl would spend hours with each other, out in the woods hunting, or just sitting in each other's company. however, after your last little sleepover, being in daryl's presence has become a very confusing experience, one you don't have time to face head-on. all those weird, warm feelings you felt just don't make any sense.

nonetheless, you keep up the charade when rosalie's around, because it's easier that way. even daryl agrees, which is why he sits beside you now, an arm thrown loosely over your shoulder. you can hear glenn and carl snickering behind you, but rosalie is talking, so you can't do anything about it.

she's in the middle of a story about the travels her and patrick used to embark on, how they aren't even from atlanta, but got caught there after the first wave of walkers made an appearance.

she's explaining how they didn't fret, because at least they had each other, when she turns her attention to you and daryl and says, "i'm sure you two understand. this world could really do some damage if we didn't have people we love."

daryl's grip tightens, and you purse your lips. you can appreciate rosalie's optimism, but her naivety takes the forefront; how can she say such a thing to a group of people who have lost everything, have watched their loved ones get ripped to shreds one by one? it wasn't that long ago rick lost his wife, carl his mother, you a friend.

you sniff, grabbing daryl's hand to keep your angered trembles at bay. "very true, rosie, very true."

"such a good thing that daryl and y/n have each other," glenn chimes in, amusement dripping from every word. "not so lucky for us - they can be loud when their - uh - love takes over."

carl chokes in his attempts to keep from laughing.

"oh!" rosalie gasps, abashed. "goodness, well, at least that spark is still there. i loved patrick dearly, but when you're busy surviving everyday, you don't get time to . . . you know."

"i wish you'd tell that to these two," glenn continued. "almost every night its-" and then the little bastard starts slapping his hand against the wall just to really get his point across.

you spin around and punch him right in the leg. carl bursts into laughter as glenn cries out. even rosalie laughs, a nervous little titter that tells you she doesn't want to get on your bad side.

you slump back in your seat, and daryl immediately wraps his arm back around you, tighter this time, like he needs something to hold on to or he'll lose his temper. you flick a glance his way, but he doesn't meet your eyes, jaw set and gaze straight ahead.

you turn back to rosalie, shaking your head. "ignore them."

"they're just jealous anyway," daryl pipes up. "couldn't make someone moan if they tried."

you choke and bury your head in your hands; this is not where you expected the conversation to go. around you, everyone besides daryl is doubled over in fits of laughter, a sound you would have treasured if it wasn't for the fact it's aimed at you.

you glance at daryl through a crack in your fingers. he smiles smugly, chewing casually on a toothpick. you hate that he looks so good after embarrassing you like that, putting the image of that in your head, and now you feel all warm and gooey, like you might melt straight into his arms.

rosalie excuses herself to help maggie and hershel with dinner, and glenn and carl follow suit shortly after. you dislodge from under daryl's arm, ignoring the way you instantly crave the weight of him again.

"didn't realise you had such a sense of humour," you say, plucking your shoes from the floor. "good job by the way; arm over my shoulder and everything. you're really sticking to the character."

he shrugs. "might as well have fun with it."

"fun?"

"watching you get all flustered?" he trails his eyes down your body, back up again in a slow, almost sensual way. "my idea of fun."

you blink. he stares right back, and the thing is, he isn't even doing anything he wouldn't normally do. the man is just sitting there, waiting for you to reply to his teasing remark, but there's been something in the air these past few days, finally coming to immobilise you for good. you can't even keep the eye contact as heat crawls up your back.

"right," you mumble, looking away. "that's all good then. glad we got that over with. i'll see you later."

he lifts his hand in an amused little wave, ending the conversation and allowing you to scramble from the room.

----

"you were stomping too loudly the entire time. no wonder we didn't get anything."

"if anyone was being too loud, it was you."

"bullshit, daryl. i would have had that rabbit if you hadn't-"

daryl shoves past you, storming towards the prison. you grit your teeth and follow close behind, desperately trying to keep calm. another unsuccessful hunting trip, and daryl is clearly losing his patience - still, he doesn't have to take it out on you, and you're not going to let him.

"you can be such a child, you know," you call after him. "there's still plenty of food in the kitchen, so you don't need to be throwing all your fucking toys out of the pram."

"oh, shut up!" he exclaims. "all your smart little remarks ain't helping!"

"i'm not saying them to help, i'm saying them 'cause you're being a fussy little-"

he whirls around and pushes you against a tree.

you gasp, but the noise comes out weak and choked by the fingers gently tracing a line along the column of your throat. daryl presses his knee between your legs, all but holding you up at this point, because suddenly he is so close you can see the tiny green specks in his blue eyes. you have half a mind to shove him away, tell him to go to hell, but the words fail you when he drops his forehead to yours like it's the most normal thing in the world.

you swallow thickly. "w-what are you-"

"no more yelling at me," he says quietly. "rosalie is standing at the gate."

you go to turn your head, but daryl catches your chin, keeping your gaze pinned to his.

"don't look over," he orders. "that'll be too obvious."

without another word, he trails his fingers down your throat, hooking them in the neckline of your shirt. you rise on your toes, you can't help it. you've never had him so close to you before, never had the opportunity to crave this proximity so much, but there is a fire lit in your stomach right now that is impossible to ignore.

"y/n," he croaks, sounding just as desperate as you feel.

"daryl," you manage. "i-is she still looking?"

he nods without looking over, but you take his word for it, because you don't want the moment to end just yet.

you watch the movement of his eyes, the way they slowly slip to your lips, lingering there. he wets his own lips with a swipe of his tongue, throat bobbing, and suddenly this isn't a performance. suddenly you are overcome with the urge to grab him, drag him into you, audience or not.

you have the strange, impossible feeling that he might want the same thing.

but that doesn't make sense, because daryl doesn't like you in that way. from day one, his boundaries have been clear when it comes to you - you're his hunting partner, someone kept around to make life a little easier, his pain in the ass. not once has he ever expressed feelings for you. not to your face. not like this.

his hands fall away from your throat like leaves tumbling off a branch. your breath escapes you in a rush as you wait for him to step away, but he does no such thing; his hands find your waist, and he oh-so-gently nudges your hips back against the tree.

"y-you're taking this roll very seriously," you manage.

he huffs a laugh, breath fanning your face. his eyes slip closed. "right."

you cup his cheeks. "hey, open those eyes or she'll think we're breaking up."

he looks at you then, the eye contact more intense than it has ever been before. daryl isn't an emotional person, but he could fool anyone with the gaze he levels on you, like you're the only person in the whole world.

you draw back, hand still holding his face. "hey. what's wrong?"

"nothing."

but his answer is too quick, too orchestrated.

you furrow your brows and finally risk a glance at the prison gates; rosalie is nowhere to be found.

"coast is clear."

daryls eyes snap over, and he immediately stumbles away. "right. good. let's get back."

you watch him leave, legs still too weak to follow. he runs a hand through his brown hair, tugging on the strands, a complete demeanour change that leaves you stunned. you don't want to acknowledge your racing heartbeat, but it's difficult to ignore when it is so all consuming, so confusing.

you have to take a few calming breaths before heading to the prison. you duck under the gap daryl made in the fence and head to the canteen, desperate for a distraction. you think you've managed to sneak past the group until you actually enter the canteen to see hershel sitting at a table, all on his own. you have half a mind to walk away, avoid any conversation, but then you remember this is hershel.

"need company?" you ask, sitting across from him.

he looks up with a smile, though that expression is quickly replaced by furrowed brows and a frown. "what's wrong with you?"

you don't meet his eyes. "what do you mean?"

"you look like you've ran five miles."

"i don't know what you're talking about."

he lowers his head in an attempt to get a better look at your face. you do everything to hide away, but you should know better when it comes to hershel greene - nothing gets past him.

he slowly leans back, having clearly inspected your flushed cheeks and frazzled hair enough to make his own conclusions. "oh."

"don't start," you grumble.

"you know i hate gossip, but could you explain. . ."

you chew your bottom lip, twisting the ring on your finger. "just. . . daryl. rosalie was at the gate, so we had to keep up appearances, obviously. he's just. . . really good at his role. got me a little flustered, that's all."

hershel is silent for a beat too long. you risk a glance up and catch his sceptical eyes, all furrowed brows and a frown so deep you think you may have accidentally hurt his feelings somehow.

"what?" you ask.

"rosalie was nowhere near the gate."

you pause. "huh? yes she was. daryl-"

"rosalie's arthritis had a flare up this morning; she's been out cold all day. hasn't even left her cell."

your heart stops, because surely that isn't right. daryl wouldn't have gone anywhere near you if rosalie wasn't watching. you were having an argument, for crying out loud, and lord knows the only way daryl settles an argument is by blanking you, not pinning you against a tree and making your insides turn to complete sludge.

you go to tell hershel this, but the words die the moment you see the amused little smirk pulling across his face.

"what?" you spit.

"is it not so obvious?"

you know exactly what he's referring to, but you refuse to acknowledge it. "clearly not."

hershel chuckles. "my dear, that man is head over heels for you."

please don't.

"that's not true."

"you don't believe me?"

"it's not like that with me and daryl. we're hunting partners at best." you don't mention the way your heart races when he's around, the way you aren't comfortable with anyone in the same way you are with him, the way you would call him your best friend.

hershel tilts his head, but you can't meet his eyes. that would give too much away.

"y/n," he says softly. "come on now."

"you're looking too deep into things."

"i would agree if daryl hadn't confessed his feelings to me personally."

you open your mouth to shoot back a reply, but again, the words die the minute you process what hershel has just said. a confession from daryl? daryl dixon talking about his feelings? the idea is so bizarre you nearly start laughing, but the shock has left you almost immobile, so all you can do is blink, waiting for hershel to get to the punchline. he stares back, not a trace of humour on his face.

realistically, you know this isn't something hershel would joke about, but you can't bring yourself to accept any other possibility. it doesn't make any sense. it doesn't fit in the puzzle that is you and daryl.

"he. . ." you shake your head. "what did he say?"

"will you believe me if i tell you?"

"what did he say, hershel?"

"that he thinks he's in love with you, and it scares him." a soft smile graces his lips. "that's why i was so confused when he reacted the way he did to you kissing him. i would have thought he would be over the moon." "but that's. . . why wouldn't he just tell me?"

hershel scoffs. "when has daryl ever made his own life easier?"

you close your eyes, letting your head fall into your hands. "holy fuck."

"rosalie was nowhere near those gates today, my dear. i can promise you that."

you stand before you can think better of it. you are suddenly overcome with the need to see him, to look him in the eyes and hear this confession for yourself. you don't care that he'll be put on the spot, that his anxiety will probably morph him into a hostile beast. you need the truth, because going one more day without it might just drive you mad.

hershel doesn't even try to stop you. you storm out of the canteen and make a b-line for daryl's cell, pushing past a confused rick and carl on the way.

of course, daryl is laying on his bunk, crossbow held over his face as he inspects the weapons underbelly. he looks over when you storm inside, opens his mouth to no doubt yell at you, but he doesn't get the chance as you grab his crossbow and chuck it onto the floor.

"do you love me?"

the colour drains from his face in an instant. it is answer enough, so answer enough, and you nearly crumble under the weight of it. part of you wants to kiss him, another part of you wants to yell at him for making all of this so complicated, for denying himself something good just because he's less in tune with emotions than the corpses walking around.

you trail your hands through your hair. "oh, daryl. . ."

"did that old fuck tell you?" he sits up. "i swear to-"

you push him back onto the bed. "don't you dare start on hershel. you wanna know where rosalie's been all day? nowhere near those fucking gates, that's for sure." daryl looks away, but you're not playing games any more, not when your heart is beating so fast, and you don't know if it's out of anger, or excitement, or dread, or all of the above. you just need things to be straight forward from here on out. you just need the truth.

"daryl, what was that?" you demand. "why . . . why would you play along instead of just telling me the truth?"

"it's a lot harder than that," he grumbles.

"how long?"

he narrows his eyes. "huh?"

"tell me how long you've felt this way. since i kissed you?"

he scoffs like the suggestion is ridiculous.

you raise a brow. "before?"

"a long time before," he replies. "that's why the kiss. . . freaked me out so much. i ain't used to that shit. especially not with someone. . ."

you pause. "someone you love."

he squeezes his eyes closed. "it's so fucking stupid. hershel should have kept his goddamn mouth shut."

"rosalie's on bed rest. i would have found out eventually." you take a step closer and reach for his hand. he stares for a moment before slipping his hand in your own; his fingers are rough, yet the minute he intertwines them with yours, you realise you never want him to let go. "it's nothing to be intimidated by. it's not stupid."

"it is stupid. it should be the last thing on my mind. the dead are up and walking, but all i can fucking think about is you. it's always just you." he shakes his head, grip tightening the smallest bit. "i'm caught in a hoard and all i can think about is where you are, if you're safe or not. do you know how fucked that is? how in my head you are?" he scoffs in disbelief, tilting his head back. "christ, and you don't even try. you never have tried; you just managed to completely take me down without a care in the fucking world." he rakes his hands down his face, groans into his palms. "i should hate you for it."

"but you don't."

he drops his hands into his lap, dejected. "no. no, i really don't."

he looks up at you then, expectant, like a child waiting for their next task. you can only stare back at him, because there isn't an awful lot a person can say after an admission like that. you wish you could reply with something coherent, something that would get your own feelings across, but for the first time in history, daryl has articulated your emotions for you. every experience he so heart-wrenchingly described is one you have experienced yourself, so there's nothing you can add.

so instead, you guide his hand to your waist and let him draw you in. he's hesitant at first, never taking his eyes off you as you step between his knees and take his face in your hands. for a man so muscular, his cheeks are soft and round, a feature you've always found so amusing and appealing at the same time.

he inhales shakily. "you're still a pain in my ass."

"but you love me."

he scowls, but there is no denial.

you grin, and finally your mind clears enough for you to kiss him. for real this time.

he stiffens for just a moment before easing into it, grip tightening on your waist to pull you closer. you slide your hands over his shoulders, deepening the kiss, feeling his body against your own. you taste the cigarettes on his tongue, a flavour so perfectly him that it doesn't even gross you out. your nails bite into his back, forcing a growl from his throat that nearly has your eyes rolling into the back of your head with how desperate it leaves you.

that's how you know it's time to pull away.

he chases your lips, hands never leaving your waist even when you gently push him back. he groans, pressing his head to your stomach as he says, "why'd you stop?"

breathless, you reply, "it's the middle of the day, daryl, and these cells aren't exactly private."

"so? as far as everyone knows, we're a married couple." his hands slip lower, making you gasp. "and according to glenn, we're known for being loud anyway."

you swallow thickly. the only response you can give is another kiss, only this time you do let your eyes roll into the back of your head.

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️ Ranking Richonne

#13: I Love You (S8E14)

Ahhhh probably one of the most anticipated exchanges between Rick and Michonne, and of course, it was sensational. This scene powerfully reiterated that these soulmates truly mean the world to each other. And after seasons of communicating those special three words through every look, touch, kiss, and conversation, we finally got to hear Rick and Michonne directly say what's always been true - they love each other 🥰 Wholly, Deeply, and Forever...

This ily moment, adorably spoiled by our lovely captains 😋, is so tender and heartfelt while also being so natural and clear that these two have been verbally expressing I Love You’s for a while. 

(Side note: I know there’s often debate on Rick’s hottest season lookswise, and really you could make a great case for any season, but lemme just place my vote here for season 8 right quick. 😊 Something about Season 8 Rick was extra fine. I feel bad cuz he was in pain all season, which I truly hate to see...but Rick was looking real right even while everything was going wrong ijs. even tho I think Rick Grimes' TOWL era is about to take the cake 🤭)

Something I so love about Rick and Michonne's relationship is that whenever they go through hardship they ultimately step closer rather than apart. They always eventually close the distance, which was evident in this lovely 'I love you' scene.

And I feel grateful that after experiencing such a devastating loss of their son, Carl, (why, TWD, why? 😭) and having to go on their journeys of grief, Rick and Michonne find their way back to each other truly in this moment. It doesn’t always go that way when a couple loses a kid as we’ve seen from other characters in this very series. But for Rick and Michonne, what they have is so unbreakable that, even in the hardest storm, their love still shines through, rises above, guides, and centers them.

So reflecting on Richonne's I Love You scene will forever have me like...

There’s also a beautiful and heart-rending honorable mention scene in this ep where Rick wipes Michonne's tears and Michonne opens up with Rick (and even makes reference to her son Andre 😭) while trying to help him heal at Hilltop instead of running out and about to get away from his grief.

But Rick still has a bit of savage Rick to get out of his system, so he and Morgan go hunt down some saviors first.

(Side note: while we're talking season 8, this 100th ep kiss in the season 8 premiere also deserves a big honorable mention because...🥵🔥🔥)

When Rick returns to Hilltop after wildin out with Morgan, he’s finally gained clarity on what he needs to start focusing on and who he needs to be healing with. Which leads to him saying those three very special words to the very special woman in his life. 🤗

So the scene starts with Rick returning to his room in a clean fresh tee, showing a clean fresh start to me. (Also Rick + a white tee has been a great combo since season 1, y'all) And he finally knows it’s time to let his wife and son guide him and read Carl's letter.

Michonne enters sorta hesitant I think because when Rick and Morgan returned they def looked like they had dabbled in the dark side out in those woods, and so she might be wondering what headspace Rick's in after whatever he just did.

But the thing about magnets is they always find their way back to each other and so Rick's not grown more distant but rather more aware of how he needs to navigate this season with her.

She finds him holding the letter, and Rick first says, "Thank you." Again, I love that Rick always thanks Michonne. Like as early as when they were strangers in s3, Rick has always vocally expressed gratitude for Michonne. And, in this moment, he knows how much Michonne has been his rock during this unbearable time as well as still fighting for their son Carl and his wishes, and so Rick thanks her for it. Her presence in his life is invaluable and he knows it.

Also, I adore the shared breath they both take when he says this. #TheyAreOne. And Michonne's so relieved that Rick has arrived at this point in his grieving journey.

Then Rick says he’s sorry which is also great cuz he knows going out and handling all this alone is not how magnets do. And Michonne is so understanding when she says, "You don't have to be."

It's just more proof that she is the exact kind of loving presence Rick needs in his life because she’s so good at both accountability and empathy. (Also in 4.09, Rick tells Carl sorry, and Carl also responds with, "You don't have to be." 😭)

And then Rick, knowing how blessed he is to have Michonne love him and stand with him through it all, turns to her and so tenderly says, "I love you." Beautiful x10. 🥹✨

I love how melodic it's said. 🥰 It’s this lovely quiet moment and Rick says it truly like it is a reassuring reminder of something he has expressed to her often and feels deeply.

I love that he turns to really look her in the eyes and has this little nod and subtlest smile when he says 'I love you.' And you just know he genuinely means this. It’s so great, and I could replay it 1000 times idc. 

And Michonne really does complete the perfection when she so movingly says, "I love you too." 🥹✨

Again, you can feel how much she means this. The emotion on Rick's face, when he hears his wife say she loves him too shows that he also can feel how much they both mean this, especially as a small tear can be seen. They are everything to each other. 🥲

(Side note: One of the many reasons why I was so elated to hear Rick call Michonne his wife in that TOWL trailer (which I'm still there btw - haven't left since I first heard it 😋) is because we who love their love story of course already knew he views her as his wife (since 2016) and that he'd refer to her as that in the spinoff series, but by saying it in the trailer it showed that this isn't some big reveal they have to wait to say in the new show. Michonne has been his wife for the longest. Rick has viewed her as his wife for seasons. Their marriage is not a new TOWL development, it is an element of TWD. And scenes like this ily scene in season 8 make that crystal clear. (also I cannot wait to hear Rick call Michonne his "wife" even more and to hopefully hear Michonne call Rick her husband 😊)

I adore that we had so many moments of Rick and Michonne communicating 'I love you' to each other in different ways leading up to this point, and then this scene gifted us with the actual direct ILY exchange between them, and of course it was perfect and proof that...

I really feel confident this wasn't intended to be R&M's first time ever saying "I love you" directly either. In this scene, both of them seemed to communicate it in a way that said this is something they've said before and often. (like it feels like they don't show Michonne's facial expression upon hearing Rick say 'I love you' because this isn't a first. She's heard that man tell her this several times before 😋)

I like to think that why these season 8 'I love you's carry so much weight right here and now is because it might be the first time they've said it to each other post-losing Carl. 😭

How heartwarming is it to know that even in a sea of pain, Rick and Michonne still want each other to know that while their whole world has been changed, the one thing that hasn't changed is their love for each other. 🥹

Their love story is just heavenly. To go from staring at each other through a prison fence and thinking they’d patch her up and then she’d be gone to now declaring their love. Perfection. 🙌🏾

And ILY’s do not seem like a phrase either Rick or Michonne take lightly or would just say to anybody. For them to express this and fall in love with someone, the connection was going to have to be deep and special. And what they found with each other is the deepest love so of course they can tell each other these 3 words with ease.

And because Richonne is the gift that keeps on giving the scene doesn’t stop there. Michonne then approaches Rick and lovingly takes his face in her hands as they share a sweet kiss. 🥹

And only Richonne can make their movement after the kiss feel as passionate and intimate as the kiss itself. Cuz after finally connecting like they’ve been longing to do, Rick and Michonne stay in the moment, looking deep into each other's eyes before leaning their heads against each other with that blessed mirror giving us all the angles. 😍

I love that mirror, y'all. 😋 I'm deeming that mirror and the set designer who placed it there some Richonners cuz, baby, they knew what we needed to see...

The way Rick and Michonne touch each other is always electric, and I love that they seriously feel like one as she rests her hand on his heart and he gently moves his hand up her side. These actors are so gifted at not wasting a single moment or action because they communicate Richonne's love in every second of a scene.

(and when richonne inevitably does that signature forehead touch in TOWL, after years apart...y'all I just might ascend to the heavens right then and there 😇)

It’s also sweet the way Michonne looks at Rick before leaving for him to have this time alone to connect with his son and read the letter.

Having the scene end with Rick reading his son's letter in a whole mirror as opposed to the shattered mirror he saw himself in earlier in the ep, is lovely. And it speaks to the power of Richonne that Rick could arrive at this point, ready to slowly but surely start healing. 

“I love you” really is communicated in every Richonne scene. And while season 8 was a weak one overall, one thing it did well was illustrate the stunning strength of Rick and Michonne’s exquisite and powerful love.

And I love knowing that, thanks to TOWL, we're sure to have some more Richonne "I Love You" moments in store. #GiftThatKeepsOnGivingAndGiving 😌

[bookwyrm-art-stuff]

Ok so I just got Celestial Monsters by Aiden Thomas (sequel to the Sunbearer Trials) And I NEED to comment on this stuff.

HEAVY spoiler warning below the cut (The book will not be the same if you read these beforehand)

-DEZI AND MARINO ARE DATING I KNEW IT I FUCKING KNEW IT

-Xio is the "Nightbearer" my gods the parallels

-I almost forgot Aurelio likes to cook he's so cute I love him

-Good on Xio for coming out! Horrible timing but I'm proud of them

-THEYKISSEDTHEYKISSEDTHEYKISSEDYESYESFUCKYES That scene was so cuteeeeeee!!!! I'm not sure it beats the wing scene but it's a near thing (mandatory why do all of their moments need to get interrupted note)

-NIYA AND AURISTELA KISSED???? DETAILS IMMEDIATELY

-*Intense heavy sobs*

-EEEEEE Aurelio in baking school I love him it's perfect now excuse me while I go imagine him as a househusband which he will be

(Btw is anyone else getting omgcp vibes? Between the baking and the relationship dynamic, like-)

@aidenschmaiden why do you make me suffer so. (Is this want you want? Do you want to see my pain? Well here you go you torturer of readers. You and uncle rick should make an I hate my fans club. /j obviously I love all your books sm)

[cainache]

that sullen girl ♱ rick grimes

Rick knows you’re younger. You’ve got at least 13 years on him. And maybe in a life before that double digit number would’ve stopped him and he would’ve dragged his mind elsewhere. Stuck to what was “right”.

But he’s lost too damn much in the last few years to overthink this. He cares about you. It’s as simple as that. He wants you to be okay. Always.

And Alexandria is new territory. It’s terrifying how perfect it is here. An untouched world.

Rick knows a majority of his group is settling in, grateful to have a safe roof and walls around them. He’s glad his kids are safe.

Rick also knows you’re one of the ones still skeptical of where you guys are trying to take home in. Like Daryl.

Though, you’ve taken a shower.

Everyone in the group seems to have connections to an olden life, you don’t fall under that. Your younger kid sister closed her eyes for the final time a few months ago, Rick guesses. He knows it feels longer.

You’ve gotten quiet since then. He doesn’t blame you, the same damn thing happened to him after Lori—his reaction was a bit worse though.

He just doesn’t want you to lose yourself. You’ve got a good self. You keep him well.

Though, he can’t find you. It’s making him a little nervous, though, he tries not to show it.

He goes walking for awhile before he does find you, it’s a mistake when he does. Your hair a flash in his peripheral. He paused his walk and see’s you fully.

You’re with the graves.

You’re bent at the knees, all your weight resting on your balancing feet. You’re before your sister’s grave. A few flowers under the wooden pallet with her name craved into it.

Rick knows there’s not anything under that grass, six feet under. He knows it bothers you, even if you don’t say anything. He knows them having to bury your sister in the middle of nowhere under a large tree months ago bothers you too, even if you don’t say it.

He’s gotten good at reading you.

He walks over slowly, hands shoving in the pockets on his jeans. You hear him before you see him. “Hi, Rick.” You say gently, you seem to know him as well as he does with you. You know his steps, he hasn’t gotten there with you—yet.

He smiles small, it’s almost like a frown. “Hi, sweetheart.” His voice is deep and soft, softer than it normally is. He only talks to you like that, and Judith.

He sees you shift a little, like you’re getting up. He pushes a hand out for you and you take it without a second wasted. “You alright?” He asks gently. He can see the color draining from your eyes with each day passing. You get more tired. More like sludge under his palms. You aren’t sure how to move on. He wishes he could take your pain, though, he knows you’d never let him have it. He’s had more than you, you know he has, even if he wouldn’t agree. We’ve all lost something, he’d say. He’s right, but still. No one’s lost like Rick.. Nor what he’s done to stop from losing more.

You nod, your eyes on your sister’s name and your hand still in Rick’s. “Yeah. I’m okay. Just wanted to say hi to her, I guess..” Your voice fades off and your shoulders sink. He can see you roll your eyes at yourself. He hates when you’re cruel to yourself. You need to give you more credit.

Rick frowns gently. He squeezes your hand before letting it go, and his arm slips over your shoulders instead. His fingers mess gently with the ends of your hair, it’s gotten longer since he’s met you. It’s been years.

You sigh and lean into him, “sorry I disappeared. Should’ve told you I was heading out.” You know him too damn well. His worries. His fears.

Yeah, he feels good in Alexandria, but old habits never die.

He hums, pulling you even closer, if possible. His eyes are on your sister’s name. “Don’t apologize. I get it.”

You hum gently and finally look away from your sister’s empty grave. Your arms weave around Rick’s waist and you push your face softly into his side. His chin leans down on the crown of your head. He feels you hold onto him tighter.

“Things are okay, right?” You whisper into his clothed skin.

They are, for now at least.

He nods against your head, his other arm wrapping around you. “Yeah,” he says soft and quiet. “Everything’s alright, baby.”

He kisses your head. You squeeze him even tighter, makes his lungs feel like they’re going to pop with admiration.

You’re a strong sullen girl, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

[blackbat05]

Different

Rick Flag x Reader

Plot: You were always at odds with a certain Colonel. Will Christmas change things?

Genre: PG-13, Colleagues/Neighbors/Enemies to Lovers (wow so many tropes in one haha) Christmas theme (again)

A/N: Big thanks to @the-slumberparty for letting me not forget my writing roots in times of writer’s slump/block! 2nd piece for sleepover event to hopefully end the year right. Enjoy and please reblog/comment!❤️

Prompt: “I never hated you. I just didn’t want you to know how much I liked you.”

***

“Motherfu-”

You yell in pain as the infirmary doctor at Belle Reve patches up your injuries. “Sorry, I wasn’t-”

The doctor waves away your apology nonchalantly. He brushes a strand of grey hair off his face before applying more iodine to the angry looking flesh on your knee. Hats off to him, he does quick and efficient work. The doctor sends you on your way with a month’s worth of painkillers and advice to rest.

“Thanks doc, but I don’t think that’s in Waller’s dictionary. At least not for us.”

He doesn’t refute your statement and simply prepares to see his next patient. Bag of medicine in hand, you limp to the office as quickly as you can. You want to get out of the penitentiary and lay in the comfort of your own bed.

You acknowledge Emilia and John who congratulate you on another successful mission. Even Amanda Waller, who you had to submit your report to despite being on the brink of death gives a subtle nod to the quick thinking that you displayed on the field. But knowing her, she probably was just happy that she could continue using her soldiers.

Including the ridiculously handsome Colonel who had marched into the shared office space, not sparing you a glance. He shoves his belongings into his bag and he is gone as quickly as he came.

You frown. You have no idea what’s his problem. Ever since your first day, it felt as if like he’s had it out for you. And the best part? For no good reason. He was civil with everyone. Everyone but you. He was downright rude and a jerk.

Emilia gives you an empathetic smile. The two of you leaned on each other, being one of the few females in an environment that wasn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows. She comforted you after Rick blew your head off for almost ruining the mission when all you did was to rescue two innocent children in the crossfire.

“Cheer up! At least it’ll be Christmas soon. Things will be different.” She says. “Any plans?”

You shake your head. “Not that I can think of. I’m just lucky that I survived this mission.” You sling your bag over your shoulder and bid them goodbye. Emilia was right, at least it was that time of the year. Maybe things will be different.

***

It looks like the doctor had clearly outdone himself. Your injuries were healing nicely and you could even step outside your house for a jog. Dressed in your running gear, you leave your apartment and step into the pleasantly cold weather.

Making your way round the block, you arrive back at your apartment. You think about what you wanted to do next with the treasured free time that you have. Perhaps you’ll order in from that Korean restaurant, pull out a Disney movie and be a couch potato for the rest of the day.

Yeah, that sounded excellent.

Deep in thought about what you should pick from the menu, you don’t notice that one of the stitches from your more severe wounds snap, causing a patch of red to blossom at the side of your stomach. The lift dings, signaling that this is your floor. Thank god no one saw you. They knew who you were but most of your neighbors were under the impression that you were an outdoor educator.

Clutching the side of your stomach, you willed yourself to take the steps forward needed to get to your door. Easy does it, you think. Unfortunately, your vision starts to spot and the floor starts to shake. This unnerves your usually calm demeanor as your breathing quickens. As if it was an eternity, you reach the door. All you needed to do was to get the keys, unlock the door and-

And…

***

You blink, shifting uncomfortably on the sofa. To be exact, your sofa.

How did you get inside? You can’t remember anything after the jog.

“You’re awake.” A familiar voice can be heard and a flop of messy blonde hair comes into vision. You don’t know how Rick Flag got into your house, let alone knew that you lived here.

“Rick?”

“Yeah, it’s me darlin.”

The name somehow wakes you up and you attempt to sit upright only for Rick to gently push you back down. “I just did your stitches for you. You don’t want to burst them again.” He tells you and your cheeks heat up. Rick did your stitches, which means he saw you- Stop it!

“How did you know where I lived? How did you even know I was coming back home?” You focus your attention on the important moments. “Are you stalking me? I could sue you for workplace harassment.”

Rick lets out a deep chuckle that has butterflies bursting in the pit of your stomach. “Yeah, you do that. Though I don’t think there’s any issue with me coming to this building seeing as it’s my home too.”

You let yourself process this. “Wait… you’re the neighbor from five-oh-two?” You wanted to mentally slap yourself in the face. No wonder Mrs Jenkins told you that neighbor five-oh-two was supposedly a private contractor. That he had weird, odd hours. That apparently you should have met him since you and him leave around the same time in the morning for work.

Rick smiles. “That’s me.”

You almost let your defenses down until you realized that it’s been eight months since you moved in here and you’ve met everyone on your level except one. Until now.

This reaffirms the fact that Rick Flag hates you for no good reason and has wants nothing to do with you outside work. Even if he is your neighbor. Fine. Two people can play that game.

“Thanks for fixing me up. I’m not sure why the stitch burst open but I’ll let Doctor Shaw know when I get back to work.”

Rick catches on to your sudden frostiness. His expression softens for a moment before it is replaced by the brooding look that you have grown so accustomed to. “Sure. Uh… have a good Christmas.”

That was oddly civil.

You nod stiffly, closing the door as he steps out your house.

You really need a glass of water.

***

Christmas. The time of jolly good cheer.

You walk down the shops that are adorned with bright lights and Christmas decorations, mood improving significantly.

Okay, the steak that you had for dinner also played a part in the great day that you had. You also decided to treat yourself, purchasing a lovely sweater. Bag in hand, you continue down the pavement. If only every day could be like this. Not throwing yourself into life or death situations, not having criminals as your field members, not having to deal with a tyrannical boss at work and most importantly…

Not having to see Rick Flag twenty-four seven.

Even if he may be disarmingly handsome and everything that you wanted.

A loud honk and bright flights come flashing at you and instead of ducking for cover, you stand there like a deer in headlights, as if waiting for the truck to hit you.

A hand reaches out and grabs you by the arm, pulling you back to safety where pedestrians continue on their way. You find yourself staring into the sea foam eyes of the Colonel who does not look pleased one bit. In fact, he looks positively seething with rage. Rage that was about to be directed at you.

“What were you thinking? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” He grips you by the shoulder tightly and you would have swatted his hands away if you weren’t still recovering from the shock of it all. “Are you injured anywhere? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?”

You shake your head slowly and Rick sighs with relief. Apparently, he only just realizes what he is doing and removes his hands as if like he had touched something that he shouldn’t have. This annoys you and is also enough to tip you over the edge.

“What’s your problem?”

Rick’s brows furrow in confusion before his face twists in disgust. “Is this how you thank someone for saving you from almost being hit by a one ton truck?”

“No, this is me asking if you have a problem with me.” You refuse to back down. “Because it’s either you pretend to be worried or save me from a ‘rookie�� mistake I made on the field and proceed to humiliate me publicly!” You raised your voice. “If you hate me, make it clear. I can’t do anything about work but I can make myself disappear when we’re outside.”

You proceed to turn around to be on your way when Rick holds you by the wrist. He hangs his head, surprisingly defeated by your words. You want to twist yourself out of his grasp, but his sad golden retriever appearance is making it very hard for you to be the villain here.

“Please,” Rick pleads. “Stay.”

An internal you battle, you relent and let him take you to a nearby cafe. He insists on getting you something, so you order a simple hot chocolate to calm your nerves. You remain silent, waiting for what the Colonel has to say.

“I’m sorry.”

You cock your head to the side, unsure if you were hearing things after that truck almost ran you over.

“I didn’t mean to do all of that.” Rick starts. “It was unprofessional and very unlike me. It was just that-” He inhales deeply.

“When I see you throwing yourself in danger or being in danger… my mind stops working. I’m so scared that one day, things will go wrong and I’m left alone again.” He grips the handle of his mug tightly.

“Remember when you saved those two children?”

“How could I forget?”

“You were amazing for that. You were fearless and brave. That’s what I wanted to tell you. But my fear became the better of me and I hurt you instead.” Rick recounts bitterly.

“I never hated you. I just didn’t want you to know how much I liked you.”

Rick can’t bring himself to look at your reaction. Perhaps a peek and he sees that your mouth is hanging open slightly. Oh, he’s done it. He’s really blown this to bits. Perhaps he can file in a transfer when he gets to work - yeah, as if Waller would allow that. Perhaps death would be the best option.

“Then say it.”

Rick stares at you, dumbfounded. A small smile is etched on your lips. “Say it you big dummy.” You laugh this time and his heart skips a beat.

“Okay, maybe I’ll say it first. Get the ball rolling hm?” You add playfully, enjoying the look on his face. “I lo- oof!”

Rick knocks his chair over from standing up to fast as he makes his way to you, engulfing you in a big and warm embrace. You freeze but only momentarily before melting into his hug that smelled like cinnamon.

“I love you Y/N Y/S/N.” He says breathlessly before giving you what was possibly the most mind shattering kisses that you ever had.

The Christmas lights start to dance around each other and the music in the cafe plays a slow jazz song. People trickle in and out for a nice warm drink and you are content with how Christmas has played out today.

Christmas could be different after all.

[dixons-sunshine]

Because Of Her | Michonne Hawthorne x Fem!Reader

Summary: You met Michonne not long after your camp fell. The two of you wandered the world side by side, always sticking by one another's side through thick and thin. However, somewhere along those lines, friendship and feelings got blurred together, and all it took was for you to get hurt for her to admit that.

Genre: Angst, fluff.

Era: Prison, season 3.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, mentions of death.

Word count: 1.9k.

A/n: Changed the title because this took an entirely different turn than what I originally wanted. Also, I'm sick at the moment, so my mind isn't really clear, so I apologize if this sucks. However, I hope you like this!

Everything was a blur to you. One minute, you were laughing and checking for weapons in the abandoned prison bus with Michonne. The next minute, you found yourself cowering to avoid the bullets that the Governor and his men were shooting at you, using your own weapon to eliminate the approaching walkers while you made a run for the safety of the cellblocks.

“Shit! Michonne, to your left!” you called out desperately, using your gun to shoot a walker that nearly took a chunk out of your arm.

Michonne used her katana to take out a walker that was heading towards her. Once the threat was taken care of, she turned towards you and extended her hand in your direction. “Come on, we gotta go!”

Grabbing her hand, the two of you made a run for it, evading the undead that wanted to make the two of you their next meals. Michonne had to temporarily let go of your hand to kill an approaching walker, and you took the liberty to shoot back at the men that wanted to murder each and every one of you.

You felt a sharp pain shoot through your side, and you hissed. Michonne, perceptive as ever, looked over at you, concern written all over her beautiful features. You wanted to do nothing more than to cup her cheeks and kiss her frown away, but you knew that would never happen—so you settled for her friendship. It was better to have her as your friend than not have her in your life at all.

“You okay?” Michonne hurriedly asked you, her eyes scanning over your form worriedly.

You nodded and took her hand again, subconsciously longing for the comfort the warmth of her hand brought you. “I'm fine. Let's go!”

What felt like centuries but was in reality only a few seconds, you and Michonne finally reached the gates leading to the cellblocks. Maggie, spotting you and Michonne, hurriedly opened the gates and ushered the two of you inside. Just as the two of you rushed to safet, the Governor and his people retreated, their vehicles rumbling away in the distance.

“What the fuck happened?!” you exclaimed, sharing bewildered looks with Maggie and Michonne. “How can they retaliate this fast?”

“They have the numbers. The Governor told a story to his people and he decided that we'd make the perfect antagonists,” Maggie spat out bitterly. “With people now thinking we're the bad guys, it would make sense for the Governor to play into their fear and convince them to fight.”

Before you could reply, Rick came rushing through the gates. The man you had learned to be named Daryl was hot on his tail, followed closely by the guy you probably hated more than the Governor—Merle Dixon.

Rick, cleverly sensing that you, Michonne and Maggie weren't all too thrilled to see the man who caused you all so much pain and suffering, sent you all a warning but pleading look. “Not now, please. We'll discuss this inside.”

Eyeing the older Dixon with distaste, you scoffed and turned to walk back into the safety of the prison. Michonne followed behind you, not sparing the people she had yet to trust a second glance.

As the two of you walked into the prison, your adrenaline started to wear off. The sting in your side started throbbing painfully, but you chose to ignore it for the time being, not wanting to start a fuss over you when there was more pressing concerns at hand.

And as you walked, you were unaware of the blood seeping through your shirt, the bullet still lodged in your flesh, no exit wound in sight.

“Field's filled with walkers,” Rick Grimes started, walking over to the group that had assembled to form a plan to fight back against the Governor. “I didn't see any snipers out there, but we'll keep Maggie on watch.”

“I could be up in the guard tower. Take out half them walkers and give these guys a chance to fix the fence,” Daryl offered an idea, standing with his hands on his hips.

“Or use some of the cars to put the bus in place,” Michonne replied, sharing a glance with you.

You nodded at her suggestion, subtly clutching your side as the pain only worsened. “I could do it. Just give me some extra ammo for my gun.”

“No, there's no way you're doing it alone,” Michonne instantly denied. “I'm going with you.”

“No, you need to stay here. You're one of the strongest fighters. It doesn't matter if the walkers get to me. If the Governor comes back—”

“I don't care about that,” Michonne cut you off, shaking her head and sending you a pointed look. “I can't let anything happen to you.”

“Mich—”

“No need to go at each other's throats,” Hershel interrupted, diffusing the situation in a calm voice. “Besides, there's no way we can access the field without burning through our bullets.”

“So we're trapped in here,” Glenn mused unenthusiastically. “There's barely any food or ammo.”

“We've been here before. We'll be alrigh',” Daryl replied, chewing on his thumbnail.

As Glenn countered his words, your head started to spin. Your vision was starting to blur and it felt as if all the life had been drained from you. You stumbled a bit, accidentally bumping into the archer.

Daryl steadied you, sending you a confused frown. “The hell's wrong with ya?”

Michonne looked at you in concern. She placed her hand on your forearm, gently rubbing her thumb over your exposed skin. “Y/n, are you okay?”

You nodded weakly. “Yeah, I'm...” you started but trailed off, unable to speak properly. The world was spinning, and the floor was seemingly starting to disappear around you.

“Y/n?”

Michonne's voice was the last thing you heard before everything started to go black. You fell back, your eyes closing. The last thing you remembered before you fell unconscious was someone catching you, their arms wrapping around you to pick you up.

You felt groggy when you finally woke up again. The pain in your side had somehow increased yet lessened at the same time, and your head was pounding relentlessly. You groaned and tried to sit up, but a voice startled you.

“S'probably not a good idea to do tha' righ' now.”

Looking up, you locked eyes with Daryl. The man was leaning against the open cell door, watching you in intrigue. His eyes closely followed your movements, ensuring that you didn't injure yourself more, a pleading request for him to do so by Michonne.

“Why do you care what happens to me?” you asked in confusion. “If I were to stand up right now and drop dead, why would you care?”

“I dun',” Daryl shrugged, pushing himself off the doorframe and walking into the cell. “But yer girlfriend cares, and I promised her I'd make sure ya were okay, and I ain't one fer breakin' promises.”

“She isn't my girlfriend,” you corrected him, eliciting an amused snort from the man.

However, when Daryl saw that you were being serious, he looked surprise. “Damn, the two of ya ain't goin' steady?”

“No,” you confirmed, albeit with a sullen undertone in your voice. “She isn't even in to women.”

“But ya are.”

“Yup,” you confirmed, knowing there was no use in hiding the truth from him. “But Michonne isn't. You have a better chance to get with her than I do.”

“Fer some reason, I highly doubt tha',” Daryl mused, chuckling at your confused expression. “I overheard her tellin' Carol tha' “it wasn't supposed to be like this” and tha' she “should've said somethin' sooner”.”

“That could mean a lot of things. It doesn't mean that she's in to me.”

“If ya say so,” Daryl replied, sending a nod in your direction. “I'll go tell her tha' yer awake.”

“Thanks, Daryl,” you thanked him, receiving another nod in return before the man left the cell.

A few painful, agonizing minutes passed before you could hear shuffling outside the makeshift medical cell. You looked up just in time to see Michonne rushing in, a relieved expression on her face.

You opened your mouth to talk, but you were cut off. Michonne dropped to her knees beside the bed and gently grabbed your face in her hands, firmly pressing her lips against yours.

Your eyes widened in surprise for a moment, completely caught off guard, but you soon closed your eyes and felt yourself melting into the kiss. The kiss ended way too quickly for your liking, Michonne being the one to pull back first.

Michonne looked deeply into your eyes, worry and relief fighting for dominance in her beautiful irises. You brought your hand up the her face, softly rubbing her cheeks with the pads of her thumbs.

“Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?” you asked her in a whisper.

Michonne shook her head, willing the tears in her eyes to go away. “Just in case something else happens that takes you away from me,” she explained. “I needed you to know how I felt, even if I'm fucking pissed at you.”

You frowned in confusion. “Wait, why?”

“Because you kept that bullet wound a secret and you almost died!” she exclaimed in exasperation. “How long have you had this?”

“A bullet wound?” you questioned, shaking your head in realization. “That's what that pain was. One of the Governor's asshole groupies shot me.”

“Yeah, and you told me you were fine, you bitch,” she replied, wiping the tears that formed in her eyes away. “Don't ever hide something like that from me again. I can't lose you too.”

“Wait,” you started, finally grasping what had happened. “You kissed me. Holy shit, you kissed me! You like me!”

Michonne laughed and nodded. “Yeah, I do. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. I was scared I was gonna ruin our friendship.”

“I didn't even know you liked women. I thought you liked guys,” you responded, surprise evident in your tone.

“You do know it's possible for someone to like men and women, right?”

“I wouldn't know. I've only ever liked girls.”

Michonne chuckled, before lowering her head to rest against your hand that layed flat on the bed. “Please don't leave. I wouldn't survive if I lost you too.”

You smiled at her, the atmosphere between the two of you making a permanent shift. “I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me.”

“I guess I could live with that,” she smiled, before lifting her head and leaning in for another kiss, one that you instantly reciprocated.

As you melted into the kiss, even though your side was killing you, you had to admit to yourself, you have never felt more at ease than at that moment. And you guessed you probably should tell Daryl he was right, but that was a discussion for another day. At that moment, all you wanted to do was melt into Michonne's arms.

You were content for the first time in a long time, and it was all because of her.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[harrywavycurly]

Sarah I love killers love!! I love how he just drops everything to answer the phone when we call🥰🥰 I was wondering if it would be ever so possible to get some more of that? Like the conversation kinda things you do!😍😍

Hiii babes!! Awe I’m so glad you like the series!! Of course I can give you some little convos where Eddie answers the phone while he’s “busy” with something/someone as well as when he just drops anything to talk to you in general 😂 I hope you enjoy!💖

CW: Eddie is a serial killer

-find all things A Killer’s Love here✨

“Hey baby what’s wrong?” “Why does something have to be wrong? Why can’t I just be calling my husband because I miss him?” “Sweetheart it’s…eight thirty at night on a Tuesday so normally by now you’d be tucked into bed with a book…so what’s wrong?” “I want some tea and…I can’t find my favorite mug…” “give me one minute baby I’m gonna mute you okay? I gotta talk to Rick really quick.” “Okay honey tell him I said hello and sorry for interrupting poker night.” “You don’t need to apologize sweetheart but I’ll tell him you said hi…….listen up my wife is on this phone and if you so much as breathe a little too loud and she hears you I’ll make this the most painful night of your like you got that? And I really don’t want to tape your mouth shut because it’s such a waste of tape but I will…now….just let me tell her where her mug is and then we can get back to our little chat okay? Nod your head if you understand…Good……sorry about that baby.” “It’s okay so…do you happen to know where-” “top shelf in the cabinet left of the microwave…that’s where your pink mug with the smiley faces on it is.” “Oh god you’re the best..I love you.” “I love you too Princess I’ll be home in….an hour or so depending on how much money Rick is willing to lose tonight…” “be gentle with him honey.” “I’ll try my best.”

“Why won’t you just be still? It doesn’t hurt as much when you’re not wiggling around like a worm on a hook….wait one moment my wife is calling…sorry I hate gagging people but I can’t risk you yelling or anything so…here we go….hey baby.” “Hey honey! So I’m standing in the kitchen and I have no idea what to make for dinner tonight and I also can’t find the remote to the tv.” “Okay well the remote is next to the coffee pot that’s where you left it this morning when you turned the news on while getting ready for work…now for dinner what are the options?” “You really do just keep track of everything…uhm let’s see the options are…spaghetti with meatballs…I can make meatloaf with mashed potatoes and green beans or….uhm well that’s all I’m in the mood to make so those are the options.” “Spaghetti sounds great sweetheart….one moment baby I gotta help someone with their head gear.” “Oh yeah go help them honey! Safety first!” “Yeah safety first……you were doing so good and now…now I have to use the tape and I fucking hate using the tape………don’t look at me like that I told you to just be still this is all your own fault now I’ll be right back….hey baby…so does spaghetti sound good to you?” “Yeah that sounds great I’ll make it enough so you can have leftovers for your lunch tomorrow.” “Perfect…I gotta go but I love you and I’ll be home soon.” “I love you too.”

“Hey sweetheart.” “Hi honey I’m not bothering you am I?” “Not at all I’m just uh..digging some…holes…for Henderson’s mom’s new bushes for her backyard.” “Oh that’s so nice of you to do that….” “What’s wrong? You sound upset.” “Well uhm…don’t freak out okay but I’m…lost?” “Lost?…baby how are you lost in Hawkins it’s not even that big of a city…” “I think I turned left somewhere I was meant to turn right…and now I’m on a street called sir Timothy? I haven’t ever been in this neighborhood before and it’s getting dark and my phone can’t even locate me to tell me how to get home and-” “hey hey it’s okay baby I’ll come and get you and you can just follow me home okay?” “You…you know where I’m at?” “Yes you’re in that new development over by lover’s lake…really nice houses over there…big plots of land too it’s nice.” “When have you been over here?” “On my way home once or twice…I just drove around seeing if it was maybe a place we’d wanna move to eventually.” “Oh…I mean it is…nice over here but I love our house.” “I love our house too…now just sit tight and I’ll be there in a few minutes.” “Okay…I love you…thanks for coming to rescue me.” “I love you too and you know I’ll always come and rescue you…it’s part of the job of being a husband.”

“Honey? Why are you all out of breath? Are you okay?” “Yeah baby I’m fine I just had my phone in my locker at work and had to run when I heard it going off.” “Oh I’m not bothering you during your break am I? I know how much you love your sixty minutes of silence in your truck.” “No sweetheart you’re not bothering me…are you home already?” “I am! That’s actually why I was calling…I was seeing if tonight could be our date night for the week? Since I’m off early and you don’t work tonight?” “Sure we can have date night tonight….I should be home around five.” “Oh perfect that gives me two hours to be a couch potato before I have to start getting ready….” “Baby…” “yes?” “Is that really the only reason you called?” “I might’ve just also wanted to hear your voice…it gets all rough in the middle of the day from you yelling at people to do their jobs correctly….” “Oh and you enjoy that do you?” “You yelling? No but…I do enjoy what it does to your voice…but I’ll let you get back to work.” “Oh you’ve gotten your fill then huh? I’m free to go now?” “Yes you’re free to go.” “Okay well I’ll see you when I get home…if you miss me too much feel free to call me…” “you just want an excuse to get out of working.” “No I just like hearing your voice…I love you baby I’ll see you soon.” “I love you too honey…see you when you get home.”

[naughtyneganjdm]

Good Luck Charm - Chapter 32

Summary: As time goes by, Negan starts to go crazy to himself while being held prisoner in Alexandria.

Characters: Negan, Y/N/reader (OC), Evie, etc.

Warnings: Swearing, Severe Angst, Thoughts of Suicide, Negan trying to hurt himself, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39423063/chapters/144929551

Notes: Back at it with some time jumping. Looking to finish this soon. Thanks to those that still read this!

Pinching at the bridge of his nose, Negan didn’t know what hurt more. His head that he smashed against the wall after Michonne denied bringing him Lucille or his throat after he tried to hang himself from the sheet using the bars of his cell. Both attempts were failures. Every time Negan got close to killing himself, he panicked and backed down. That’s why Maggie coming here to kill him was his only sure shot of dying. And when she left him there to rot, he knew that he would never be able to kill himself. His one chance was Maggie and that failed too.

Hearing that Rick went missing after blowing up the bridge, Negan knew that he would certainly be left alone to himself from here on out. No one talked to him. No one bothered with him. Gabriel found him after one of his suicide attempts, but no one cared. He could only imagine the hell that he was going to suffer now with Rick gone. Rick was the one person fighting for him, even if he was still being tortured. In all the time he was down here, Rick was the only person that bothered to talk to him. Even though Rick hated him, it still seemed like Rick treated him like a human being. The other people here? No one was going to take the time with him to bother. So all that pain and all that agony? It was only going to intensify the loneliness now that he knew he was alone. And being alone was the thing that broke him the most right now. Being trapped in his own thoughts was a very dangerous thing. 

Every second felt like hours being trapped down here. So much time had passed since he had been locked up and he was miserable. Heart broken. Sad. Never before had he truly understood what it was like to feel like this.

“It’s time,” Negan heard the sound of Y/N’s voice filling the air, causing him to jump. He had been to his silence for so long that it surprised him when he heard her voice. Lifting his head up from the cot, he noticed that she wasn’t in the cell with him. His vision of her was standing by the door to the room that his cell was in.

“Hey, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you,” Negan breathed out, wincing when he pulled himself up from the cot. It had been a long time since he had actually moved from the position he was in. He just didn’t have the energy or motivation to get up. “I didn’t think you were here anymore. I thought you left me.”

Something looked different from the expression on her face. It made him uncomfortable when he pushed his hands into his pockets, “I’m glad you didn’t. It’s nice hearing your voice.”

“It’s time Negan,” she repeated what she said beforehand drawing him to let out a confused exhale.

“For what?” Negan’s nose wrinkled, his head dropping down as he tried to get a better look at her through the bars.

“You don’t need me anymore,” she claimed, her head tipping back just enough for their eyes to connect. It had a rush of fear flooding into his veins and he let out a panicked sound.

“I don’t need you anymore? That’s not true,” Negan immediately shook his head, his throat tensing up when he saw the sadness in her eyes. “Y/N, I need you more than ever. With Rick gone, no one talks to me. I don’t see the children anymore. I haven’t in years. You’re all I have.”

“You don’t want me Negan and quite frankly, I don’t want to be here anymore,” Y/N clarified, folding her arms out in front of her chest. Her confession caused Negan to let out a worried sound when he walked over to the cell door. “One look at what you thought was Lucille and she was all you could think about.”

“That’s what you’re leaving for?” Negan frowned, his fingers squeezing tighter around the bars when he felt a rush of fear flood his veins. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about Lucille a lot lately, but it was just the cherry on top. I love you. I love you so much.”

“You never loved me, Negan. We both know that,” she suggested which had him pulling his body as close to the bars as possible. “After all the time I’ve spent inside of your head, I think I would know more than anyone that you never loved me. What we had? It wasn’t real.”

“I know I made you feel that way,” Negan began with a whimper, his chest aching thinking back on his past. “But that’s not true. I wish I could go back and do things over. Do them over the right way. My problem was that I loved two people in my life and I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“It’s always excuses Negan,” she hinted, but he dramatically shook his head again not wanting her to focus on that idea.

“I loved you. I loved you so much and I still love you,” Negan stressed, pressing his left hand in over the center of his chest. “Hurting you the way I did, it was so wrong. I know that. I did so much to let you down and I wish I could go back, but I swear to you I always fucking loved you.”

“You’ve tried killing yourself multiple times Negan. And like you said to Maggie, you want to be with your wife. You want to be with Lucille,” she pointed out what he had said to Maggie causing his face to drop and turn pale. “I think it’s time that we finally parted ways so I can move on. Because being here with you? It only makes me sad.”

“I’ve been making you sad for a long time and believe it or not, I understand it now,” Negan vowed, his voice breaking with the worry that she was being serious about this whole thing with leaving. “You told me how sad I made you when I left you for Lucille. How you never felt more alone. Maybe this is my punishment for that. I never thought about how much suffering you went through in being alone. I can’t remember the last time I was to myself before all of this. And I left you alone at eight months pregnant. And then you were alone every two weeks I took Evie.”

Her jaw flexed, emotions visibly flooding her features when she lowered her head, folded her arms in front of her chest and remained silent.

“I can’t handle being alone,” Negan decided, his remorse growing more the longer he spoke. “I never could. And you were always the person that made me feel the least alone. I never had to hide myself from you. You knew me. You knew all of me and you always accepted me. When we were together, I could always talk to you. I could always tell you how I felt because you listened. And you heard me. You never thought I was stupid. You never shamed me. You tried to help me. Not like Lucille. I always felt stupid when I talked to Lucille about how things were because…”

“You left me for Lucille,” she interrupted his thought process which had a long exhale falling from Negan. “You tell me all the time how much of a better lover I was. How you felt better with me. How I was the best lover. How we were the better duo. But I’ve never been enough for you. I never have Negan. Getting with me was you avoiding being alone. You didn’t love me. Maybe you grew to care, but I was a roof over your head. I kept your belly full and I gave you everything. I gave you everything and it still wasn’t enough.”

“I was greedy. I was selfish,” Negan whined, his words quiet as they fell from his lips. “It’s so hard being in a position where you love two people. Because half of you wants to be with one of them, but the other…”

“Negan, I love you. So much,” she began with a frown, interrupting him mid thought, “but I don’t believe anything that comes out of your mouth. Half of you didn’t want to be with me and half with her. All of you wanted to be with her because we both know that you loved Lucille more. We do. And pretending that you didn’t, it’s just you lying to me more and I hate it. No matter what you say, no matter how many times you say it – we both know that you would never pick me if you could go back. Every chance, you would pick Lucille. You would leave me alone in that house and nothing would stop you.”

Tipping his head down, Negan felt a lump growing in his throat. It always was hard because more than anything Y/N wanted to be endlessly loved by Negan. She wanted to be his number one, but there was always that thought that she loved him more than he loved her. And he could never say anything to correct that because she was the loyal one. She was the one that stayed dedicated to him throughout. She was the one that gave up everything for him. He never did that. And he knew that.

“You’re the only thing keeping me going,” Negan slurred, stating the first thing that was on his mind. Outstretching his hand, he attempted to reach out for her to touch her. At The Sanctuary, this vision of her scared the hell out of him. Back then he realized he was going fucking nuts though and he was afraid of it. Now he accepted it. And he meant it. She was the only thing that was keeping him going.

“And that was always the problem,” she frowned, pushing her hands into her pockets disappointing him that she wouldn’t accept the gesture. “I was always there to lift you up when you were feeling down. But what about me? Who was there to lift me up when I was down? Not you. No, you left me whenever you got what you wanted from me. I made you whole again and you left me the second you got the chance. Our children were all that I had.”

“Please don’t say these things,” Negan begged feeling incredible amounts of guilt hearing these things all over again. “I fucked up so much, I did. But those four years together? We were so happy. They were some of the best years of my life. And when you, when we…” Negan paused when he went to mention what happened to her when she was bit, it made him tremor because he didn’t want to actually stress the fact that she died. “After we got married, the two of us were good. You know that we were happy.”

“Was I?” she questioned and it had Negan’s lips parting, a shuddering breath falling from them at the thought that she still wasn’t happy. “Do you think you made me happy in that short time?”

“I gave you the one thing you always wanted,” Negan claimed, his eyebrows furrowing when she smirked and lowered her head. “More than anything, you wanted to be married to me. That’s what you always wanted. You wanted to be my wife.”

“I wanted you to love me as much as I loved you,” she corrected him, tears burning at her eyes when she couldn’t even stand to look at him in that moment. “That’s what I wanted more than anything Negan.”

“I…” Negan paused, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat when she lifted her head, her eyes narrowing out at him. “I tried.”

“And that was the problem,” she acknowledged letting out a long sigh, folding her arms out in front of her chest. “You tried, but you never did. I loved you more and you know that. I was your good luck charm Negan. Just like you always told me. And I was your compass. I led you to your happiness. And you?” she had to stop when her emotions got the best of her. “Well loving you led me to my grave.”

Hearing that broke Negan with his breathing labored when she stepped further back away from the jail cell, “I love you Negan. I’ve always loved you. I gave up myself in order to make you happy. And in a way it was my fault for sticking around as long as I did. I saw it in the way you looked at me. From the start I did,” she explained, sliding down onto the ground and resting her back against the wall. Staring down at her, Negan bit down on his bottom lip starting to realize that this was his way of punishing himself again. “You were just trying to force yourself to love me. I think you wanted to. And for a while you believed it. But I knew you were never truly mine. You were always Lucille’s. God, I just loved you so fucking much. You were the first person that made me feel like I wasn’t alone in this world. I had nothing and then suddenly I had everything. I knew better than to believe in happy endings. I was always destined to be miserable. Some people get lucky in life, that wasn’t me.”

“I don’t think you realize Y/N, but you were my happy ending,” Negan whispered, lowering down on the ground, still clasping tightly to the bars. “I could have had the perfect life. The life that I always wanted and more. Because you, you were everything right in this world. The sad thing is knowing that everything you’re saying, I know you believed. I was the one destined to be miserable because the moment I let you slip through my fingers I made the biggest mistake of my life. God proved that to me again and again. The problem was always me. Never you.”

Reasoning these things out loud, Negan’s tears burned at his eyes and he whimpered, “You asked one thing from me. And I couldn’t even give you that because I’m the poison,” Negan admitted, his throat tensing up when he let out a tremoring exhale. “Our children are parentless now because of my bad decisions. And now that you’re gone, I’m holding onto this memory of you. That was my problem, I could never fucking let you go. You always deserved better than me and I knew that.”

Squeezing his fingers tightly to the bars, Negan shook his head and let out a hiss, “You’re not real. You were never real. I’ve been doing to this vision of you what I did to Y/N the whole time she was alive. I kept her miserable and heart broken. When she was alive, I clung on just enough to make sure that she was always there because she was my safety net. The thing that made me feel protected. When the truth is that I should have been alone the whole time. Both Lucille and Y/N deserved better than me.”

Rocking where he was seated, Negan shook his head and noticed the way his vision of her stood slowly, “Even in death I can’t allow her peace because I always counted on her to be the person to fix me. To make me feel whole.”

Dropping back on the floor, Negan looked up at the ceiling and huffed loudly, “I would beg for you to stay, but I know you won’t. Because now more than ever I’m realizing I’m alone and I’m always going to be alone. And that’s my fucking fault. I would do anything to keep you here, but you were never here to begin with.”

For so long he was confused about the visions he was having of Y/N. But the longer he was here, the more he began to realize the image of Y/N was something that his brain conjured up in order to keep him from breaking. More than anything, he needed to have her in his life, so that’s what his brain did. He created a version of her to keep himself from breaking down.

“She would be so disappointed in the man that I remained and I know that. And now that I’m here, I’m too much of a chicken shit to kill myself even though more than anything I want to be with her and Lucille. But I’m scared. Scared of the unknown and it breaks me even more to know that the two people that made me feel the most alive are fucking gone. I deserve this. I deserve to be alone. After everything I did, this is my perfect ending.”

“I almost feel bad for you,” Negan heard the sound of his own voice and he lifted his head to see The Sanctuary version of himself standing before him at the bars. Great. Now he was seeing himself. He really was batshit. “You had a chance at a new life and you picked me. But that’s what you always did. You picked yourself first. Now look at you.”

Hearing the familiar whistle that he started with The Saviors, Negan tipped his head to the side to watch his vision of himself head over to his vision of Y/N, “Even being a figment of your imagination the girl is too afraid to leave you because of what you might become. The one thing that kept you grounded disappearing after this long? How are you gonna survive with her gone?”

Slamming his head back against the ground, Negan winced with his eyes squeezing shut. Hitting his head several more times had an aching pain growing there. It was so rough that he was certain another hit would knock him unconscious like he had done before.

Turning his head to the side Negan watched the image of Y/N fade before his eyes and he let out a cry, “She was never here to begin with.”

Everything hurt and he knew after this moment he would truly never see Y/N again. Letting out a roar of anger, Negan threw his head back one final time looking to escape his agony if only for a short amount of time. And with one final successful smack of his head against the concrete it led to him blacking out allowing the loneliness to finally engulf him.

----

The sound of something shattering pulled Negan from his slumber with his eyes snapping open. Frowning, Negan lifted his hand and ran it down over the front of his face. It had been quite some time since Rick went missing and the vision Negan had of Y/N finally left him. Sleeping was the only escape he truly got from reality. Mother nature was too cruel to take him from this world, so each day grew longer and lonelier. But he was living with it. With Rick gone, Negan had little to no interaction with the people of Alexandria.

Most days were spent with him lying on the floor of his cell listening. Many Alexandrians would come to his window to mock him. It was something that Rick’s presence had kept from happening, but now both adults and children poked fun at him. Day and night. But he just accepted his fate.

Thankfully the only people that seemed to come down to give him things were Gabriel and Siddiq so he was safe in that area but it didn’t stop people from threatening him through his window. Urging him to finish the job with trying to kill himself.

After Rick went missing and was assumed dead, it just didn’t matter anymore to people. Rick wasn’t there to preach about his goodness and why Negan was there. He was pretty certain that the only reason he was still alive was for Michonne to honor Rick in her own way. But she really didn’t like coming near him either. And he didn’t blame her. There were no doubts that the sight of him likely brought back bad memories for her.

Disappointment flooded Negan’s veins every time he woke up because it just proved another day unsuccessful at Negan finally getting what he wanted in being dead. Never did he pick up eating again. There was no sense in it. His body was suffering. Both physically and mentally, but it was better in his opinion to go out this way than to allow himself to suffer longer. Eating meant more years spent to himself. If he withered away, then maybe one day he would be allowed the gift of no longer being here. Because killing himself wasn’t an option. The best he got out of his attempts was just a headache or a sore throat. So starving himself became a new thing for him. Really, he didn’t even crave food anymore. There was an ache in his stomach, but his body came to terms with how things really were.

Grumbling to himself, Negan rolled off the cot he was laying on allowing his body to smack up against the floor. Gabriel was trying hard to get Negan to eat, but he was failing. Depression ate away at Negan once he finally realized that he lost everything. He was never leaving this place. He was never seeing his children again and he would never escape his own thoughts. Although, he did have to give credit to Gabriel’s persistence. He was trying. He kept trying. But nothing was really working.

Groaning out, Negan heard the sound of the door being very slowly pulled open and he huffed, “Gabey boy, I don’t know what you’re coming down here with now, but I want none of it. So just leave me alone.”

Silence followed along with the door closing and Negan rolled on his side to look at the door. His eyes weren’t adjusted yet, but the silhouette was different. Narrowing his eyes, he saw that the smaller frame was frozen in place.

“Daddy?” hearing the faint voice had Negan scrambling to get to his knees, swiftly crawling to the bars of his cell when the dark figure stepped forward into the light that was showing through the cracks in his window. Finally seeing Evie’s face had Negan letting out a tremoring breath.

“Evie?” Negan muttered her name, a whimper falling from his throat at the sight of her. It had been over two years since he had seen her, but he could see the worry in her eyes while she stared out at him. Fear started to set in. What if this was a vision he was creating of her. She was older, but it wasn’t that hard to imagine what she would look like older for him. “Is that really you?”

Nodding, it didn’t look like she knew what to say while she stood a good distance away from him. Waving his hand, he urged her to him, but she looked back at the door almost worried that someone would come and find them.

“Let me see you,” Negan begged, his voice cracking when she stepped in closer to his cell. Once she was close enough he lifted up on his knees and outstretched his shaky palm. At first it seemed like she was nervous for him to touch her before Negan palmed in over the side of her young features. By the warmth against his palm, he could tell that this was real and not another one of his visions. “It’s really you baby girl.”

As soon as realization set in, tears started to fall from Negan’s eyes, “Look at you. You’re so beautiful. You got so tall.”

Closing her eyes, Evie leaned into Negan’s touch and let out a tremoring breath. Tears were burning at Negan’s flesh having her there with him. It was the first time that he was able to touch someone in so long and he never thought he would be able to see either of his children again, “Evie, I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry.”

Starting to sob, Negan saw her hazel eyes flutter to an open and she stepped in closer to his cell, “I was so mean the last time we saw each other. Everything I said back then, I was so wrong. The problem was never you, it was always me. You are perfect. In every way possible. And I’ve always been so proud of you. I love you so much and I should have listened to you all along. I’m so sorry.”

Setting her bag down at her side, Evie uneasily lifted her hand to curl her fingers around Negan’s wrist. Her fingers squeezed at his wrist and he let out another whimper having the gentle caress of her touch over his flesh.

“You need to know that I love you,” Negan was desperate to get everything out all at once. “What I said was just me angry and I was a mess. You’re the best thing I’ve ever done with my life.” 

“You don’t mean that,” she frowned and Negan immediately shook his head, outstretching his other hand to cup her face in his hands lovingly.

“I do mean that. I mean that so much. I never wanted something more in my life,” Negan hushed her, his thumbs sweeping over her cheeks. “When I told you that you were daddy’s little dream come true, I meant it. You mean everything to me Evie. I love you so much. And no matter what happens in the future, I need you to know that. You were always the best of me. Daddy just made so many bad, very poor decisions and you should have always been the first thing on my list.”

Hearing the sound of her crying broke his heart and he knew that he shouldn’t have been unloading on her like this, but he needed to get this all out before she left because he didn’t know how much time he had left with her, “You were taking care of me back at The Sanctuary and you should have never had to do that. I let my emotions eat me whole and I never meant the negative things that I said. Truth is? I’ve never been a good enough father to you. You deserved so much better than me and I know that. Both you and your mother. But I don’t regret having you. I love you more than anything.”

Getting up onto his feet, Negan pulled her closer to the cell and did his best to hug her. It was uncomfortable and it wasn’t exactly a real hug, but he was holding her as best as he could. Pressing a loving kiss to her forehead, Negan exhaled loudly and wondered if he was dreaming.

“How are you here?” Negan wondered, his words vibrating against her skin with her head resting against the center of his chest. “Did they let you come in here?”

“People have been too busy with other things,” she explained, tipping her head back. Her tears had soaked at his shirt and with those that were left he lifted his hand to swipe at them with his thumb. “I saw that no one has been on your door for a while the last few days. They come for your meals, but other than that, no one. I made sure it was the same way for a while before I took my chance.”

“My smart, brave little girl,” Negan brushed his fingers through her dark hair and let out a shuddering breath. “I never thought I would see you again.”

“I thought the same thing,” she explained with a broken sound, her eyes showing the sadness that lingered in them. Looking him over, she let out a worried breath and shook her head. “You’re so skinny.”

“Hey, don’t worry about me,” Negan hushed her, offering up a weak smile. He could only imagine how awful he looked right now. Even though he assured her to not worry about him, he could see by the way that she was eyeing him over that she was shocked by his appearance.

“Daddy…” her bottom lip tremored, but Negan tried to get her to look him in the eyes so she wouldn’t worry about him.

“Are they taking care of you?” Negan questioned, his hands shaking with him still having a hard time believing that she was actually standing there before him.

“As well as strangers can,” Evie was honest, with a tip of her head. “They aren’t like you or mommy. But they try.”

“That’s good,” Negan nodded his head about, his heart hammering in his chest. The sound of footsteps was heard and Negan motioned her to be quiet. They both waited in panic for someone to find her down there, but after they waited a minute or so they realized that they were safe.

“I’ve heard things,” she began, something changing in her expression when she eyed Negan over. He knew that he had to look very different to her. Hell, he had dropped so much weight and he had never had a beard this big when he was around her or his hair this short. “Lots of things.”

“I…I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I’m sure by now you know that daddy isn’t the best of men,” Negan contemplated whatever it was she was speaking about, but he knew that he couldn’t hide the things that he had done from her. “I’ve done some really horrible things…”

“I know,” she confessed with a loud sigh and there was a sense of disappointment that flooded over her young features. “But that’s not why I’m here. I…heard you tried to kill yourself. A few times. And that you aren’t eating…”

“You…” Negan’s words came to a stop when he realized that his daughter knew what he had done leaving him feeling ashamed. Evie was young, but not young enough to not understand the things that he had done. The things that he was doing. “I was really sad Evie. I was in a dark place and I didn’t think there was anything else for me to do. It’s hard for me to see the point even now.”

“You can’t do that,” Evie firmly stated with a small frown when she reached for her bag. Leaving him for a minute had him letting out a panicked breath because he wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. Unzipping the bag, she pulled out a small container and she held it in front of him. Getting the lid off of it, he saw that there was a cupcake inside of it along with a few cookies. “Ms. Carol made these for me and I asked her if I could have a few before tonight.”

“Tonight?” Negan’s eyebrow arched in curiosity.

“It’s my birthday today,” she announced, her bottom lip tremoring when he let out a sharp exhale. “I turn thirteen today. She’s been really good to both Nathan and I. Making things for us when it was our birthdays.”

“Oh baby,” Negan outstretched his hand letting out a tremoring breath at the idea that it was her birthday. “Thirteen? Geez. Where has the time gone? I’m sorry. I didn’t know what day it was down here. Happy birthday baby girl.”

“Thanks,” she didn’t say much, she just half smiled and nodded down toward the container that she brought. “I wanted to give these to you. So you have something to eat that’s good. I don’t know what they are feeding you here.”

“Oh honey, I can’t take your food,” Negan denied, shaking his head in response, but she pushed them into his lower abdomen. “Baby, they are for your birthday. And they shouldn’t be wasted on me because they were made for you.”

“Dad, please,” she begged seeing the expression changing behind Negan’s eyes. “They said you weren’t eating. Please eat them for me. I know you don’t want to be here, but I can’t lose you. Knowing that you are here and not being able to see you is better than knowing that you are gone forever like mom. So please…stop trying to kill yourself and eat. For me.”

Hearing her begging him to eat had Negan’s arms dropping down at his sides, his jaw flexing when she started breaking down into tears, “Please. Please eat.”

“Okay baby,” Negan cried in return, shakily reaching out to grab one of the cookies that she brought. Taking a small bite had her lowering her head and he cleared his throat when he swallowed it down. When she looked to him again, he took another bite and she whimpered.

“Promise me you won’t do it again,” she spoke in a desperate tone having Negan’s whole body tensing up. “If you really love me and you mean all the things that you said, promise me that you won’t try to kill yourself again. Promise me that you will start eating.”

Everything tightened up and it felt like all the air left his lungs with his daughter sobbing before him. Taking the container from her hand, Negan set it down on the ground and pulled her closer to him again so he could hold her with her sobbing against the center of his chest. He couldn’t imagine it was very comfortable for her doing this through the bars of his cell door, but they were doing their best.

“I know you hate it here, but you can’t die,” she declared and it had Negan’s heart-breaking hearing her breaking down at the idea of him dying. Her palm pushed into the center of his chest, her head tipping back up to stare up at him with misery in her eyes. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” Negan assured her finally, nuzzling his nose in against the top of her head. “I promise you I won’t hurt myself again and I will start eating.”

“Do you mean it?” she dropped her head back to look up at him with tears in her eyes again. “I already lost mom and I can’t lose you too. I don’t care what happened or how mad I’ve been at you. You can’t die on me. You can’t die on us. We need you.”

“I mean it,” Negan pulled her in toward him again caressing his fingers against the back of her neck while she calmed down. There were a lot of tears. So much in fact that he was worried people would hear them, but thankfully they never did. It took a while, but by the time that they both relaxed, they were sitting on the ground next to each other. They both had their backs against the wall with the cell bars between them. Negan was eating one of the cookies while they sat in silence. It was hard to eat, but he was forcing himself to eat for her. After so long with nothing in his stomach, it didn’t feel great finally eating something down. Plus the cookies were dry, but he was doing his best to appease her. “So…you’re thirteen, huh?”

“Yeah,” she smirked, sliding her palm beneath the cell bars. Her fingers hooked with Negan’s and it took his breath away. Squeezing her fingers tighter with his, Negan tipped his head back and stared out at her for a long moment. “How does it feel to be an old fart?”

“I mean it feels exactly like that,” Negan snorted hearing her giggle and he reached up with his free hand to stroke down over his longer beard. “I probably look like an old fart with this. I need to shave it.”

“I think so,” she agreed with him, nodding toward the container that she gave him. “You should eat the cupcake.”

“Only if you split it with me,” Negan muttered getting a glare in response, but he didn’t care. “It only feels right to have a cake with my daughter on her birthday.”

“Fine,” she grumbled watching Negan shakily break the cupcake in half before being careful in the way that he handed her over the other half of the cupcake. Watching her take a bite made him smile before he uneasily lifted his half to take a similar sized bite. 

There was silence between them which upset Negan. There was so much he wanted to say but he didn’t want to overwhelm her with all the things that he was thinking.

“Do you remember when we went to Disney?” Negan finally spoke uneasily taking another bite of the cupcake she gave him. He was actually surprised that Carol made it taste as good as she did with each bite he took. 

“Of course,” she smirked noticing that Negan was staring at her. “Why?”

“Just with it being your birthday, it got me thinking about that. It’s just one of my favorite memories. That whole trip was,” Negan explained with a crack of a smile tugging at his lips. “You had so much energy. You kept going and going. I didn’t know how I was gonna keep up with you, but it was amazing.”

“It’s when I gave you that locket,” she pointed toward his neck and he frowned. His long eyelashes fluttered and he had to force himself to look away from her. “What?”

“Uhm, they took it from me when I got here,” Negan responded seeing the upset expression that she gave when she swallowed down hard. “They took the locket and my bracelet when I was unconscious. I don’t know why. I think they thought I would use it as a weapon or something to escape.”

“Would you?” she inquired, her eyebrow arching in curiosity and he shook his head. “Then why didn’t they give it to you?”

“Because I’m not a good man Evie,” Negan reminded her with a frown, hating to admit that to her, but it was the best way he could explain things to her. “They don’t trust me.” 

“How can I help you?” Evie blurt out finishing with her last bite of the cupcake that Negan had given her.

“You just being here has helped me more than you will ever know,” Negan assured her with a wink realizing that he felt so incredibly lucky to spend this time with Evie when he thought he was never going to see her again. “Just getting to be with you on your birthday? That’s a dream come true for me. I never thought I would see you again and here you are.”

“I mean escape,” she breathed out and it made Negan immediately shake his head. Hearing that scared him because he didn’t want the people in Alexandria to hear that. By how they mocked him at his window, he was worried that if they heard her say that they would hurt her. “You can’t stay here like this.”

“I can and I will,” Negan concluded, wiping at his bottom lip after he finished the cupcake. “I don’t want you to do anything to try to get me out of here. You and your brother are safe here. You have people taking care of you. They are feeding you. You look good. I can’t have you risk getting hurt trying to get me out of here. I won’t allow that to happen.”

“But Nathan and I should be with you,” she stressed, her face scrunching up and she shook her head. His answer upset her, but he didn’t care. At least in this situation he knew that she would be safe. The last thing he wanted was to put her in harm’s way. “We are meant to be with you, not these people.”

“You are always with me Evie,” Negan insisted outstretching his hand to place it over hers to give it a firm squeeze. “I’m right here. We’re together even though we’re apart. You don’t know how people will react toward me or you if they think I’m gonna try to break out. So don’t do that.”

“But this is wrong daddy,” she was upset that he didn’t want her helping him, but it panicked him to think what people would do if they ever heard this kind of discussion. “We should be together.”

“I did this to myself Evie. And I’m sorry I put your brother and you in this position,” Negan apologized, turning to face her while keeping his fingers hooked with hers. “But this is the way things have to be. Or else we could be in danger. I don’t know what’s out there.”

“The farm,” she began and Negan hushed her, looking up toward the window that was in his cell. “It could still be good.”

“But we don’t know that,” Negan responded with a long sigh, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration toward himself that he allowed her to even begin to think that escaping was an option. It wasn’t. “Even now, I don’t know if you’re gonna be able to sneak in here to see me again. Which is why I need to stress to you how much this means to me. To be able to see you? It’s been amazing. And I love you so fucking much.”

“I don’t want this to be the last time I see you,” she whimpered and it broke his heart to hear her say it like she did. After all he did and said, to see that she still felt this way made him feel like the luckiest man in the world. “I’m upset with you, but you’re my dad and I love you.”

“And I love you,” Negan winked, a tired smile tugging at his lips. Of course there were going to be hurt feelings, but just having her tell him that she loved him? That’s all he needed to hear and more. More than anything he had to protect her and if it meant getting his shit back together, then he would. Because the last thing he needed was her putting herself in harm’s way. “But I made a promise to you. I won’t hurt myself and I will start eating again. For you. Okay?”

“Okay,” she didn’t know what else to say with Negan pushing his hands between the bars to capture her jaw between his thumb and index finger. It made her smile with the way he stared out at her. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Negan winked, sweeping his thumb over her jawline before sighing loudly. Pressing his forehead against hers through the opening of the bars, Negan let out a tremoring breath realizing how much he missed his daughter. “Your mother would be so proud of you.”

A hurt exhale fell from her lips when she lowered her head. What he said seemed to upset her and she bit down on her bottom lip. Looking back to her bag, she slid away from Negan and he almost reached for her to keep her where she was, but he didn’t want to force her to stay there. If she wanted to leave, that was her right. Instead of leaving, she opened the bag and grabbed something from inside of it. Sliding it underneath the cell bars had Negan’s eyes follow the movement and he reached out to grab it. Noticing that it was a piece of paper, Negan unfolded it and when he saw what it was he let out a tense breath realizing that Evie was obviously drawing him and Y/N together from the photo that he had kept with him at The Sanctuary.

“I kept the photos that you had. I found your jacket that they had here and I pulled them out so I wouldn’t forget what you or mom looked like,” she confessed, her face scrunching up when she realized that Negan started to cry again over the drawing that she had done. There were faint footsteps, so she remained quiet for a moment before speaking up again. With a trembling hand, Negan pulled the drawing closer to his face and smiled. “I don’t want you to forget her face either.”

“Thank you,” Negan felt the warmth of his tears sliding down his face. Folding the paper back up, he stuck it in his pocket and realized that he would have to find a way to hide it so no one knew that Evie had been here. “I’ll keep this safely with me.”

“You’re not upset with me taking the photos, are you?” she wondered pulling her knees to her chest when she sat before him on the ground. “I know that they were yours, but I wanted them after they told me that I would never see you again. They were cleaning out this area, I saw your jacket and I just took them before they could see.”

“You really are your father’s daughter,” Negan winked which made her smile when he acknowledged her quick hands. “You know I would never be mad at you for that. I’m glad that you have them and they aren’t withering away somewhere. Although…”

“What?” Evie tipped her head to the side and looked curious to what he was about to say.

“Did you see the locket and the bracelet?” Negan inquired, his thick eyebrows bouncing up when he brought up the things that he had mentioned to Rick a while back. “They took everything from me when I first got here.”

“No,” she shook her head and Negan let out a disappointed breath. “Why?”

“Why?” Negan cracked a smile, placing his hand in over the center of his chest. “Because I don’t want to forget your face either. That locket belongs here. It’s where it was always meant to be. And the bracelet? The bracelet connects me to you and your mother.”

“And you want to be close to us?” Evie muttered, her features showing clear confusion and he nodded his head. “You actually want those things?”

“Of course I want those things,” Negan slid in closer to her, stretching his hand out to brush her hair away from her eyes. “I never said it enough, but you are everything to me Evie. I should have told your mother that more often too when she was here. How amazing she was. How she was everything and more. You both were. You still are.”

“I’m sorry I let you down,” Evie lowered her head leaving Negan to let out a heavy exhale feeling as if he had just been kicked in the gut.

“No! No, Evie. You never let me down. I let you down,” Negan asserted, his throat tensing up and the vein at the side of his neck slightly bulging. “Listen to me. There was never anything wrong with you. If anything I am so…so proud of you. Please never think anything else. I’m not a good man Evie, I never was and I’m sorry I couldn’t be the best version of myself for you. I should have been the best of me for you. I let you down. Not the other way around.”

There were the tears again. They both wanted to say so much but it sounded like things were getting busy outside the window and Evie lowered her head allowing Negan to pull her in closer so he could press a kiss over her forehead.

“I should probably leave before people start getting back and someone realizes I’m here,” she grew disappointed, slowly pulling herself up from the floor and he did the same, having some trouble with his back when he did. Dumping out the rest of the cookies on his bed, Negan handed her over the container and gave her a wink. “I really do love you daddy. No matter how much I’ve been hurt, I still love you.”

“And I’m the luckiest man in the world to know that you still love me and that I’m your dad,” Negan tremored, reaching out to brush her dark hair out of her eyes once more. “I love you so much Evie. Never forget that.”

Bringing her in close one more time, Negan let a kiss linger over her forehead before allowing her to step back. When she stopped at the door, she reached for the knob and looked back at Negan with something different in her eyes.

Heading back toward Negan, Evie noticed that Negan’s breathing grew louder. Reaching up, Evie grabbed something that was around her neck. Pulling it up carefully, she got it over her head before extending it out before Negan. A shuddering breath fell from Negan’s lips when he saw that it was his locket that Evie had given him. The rings he had there were still on it and it surprised him to see that she had it.

“I didn’t think you originally wanted these. I’m sorry I lied to you,” Evie apologized holding out the locket further allowing Negan to accept it in his tremoring fingers. Once the light hit it, the design shined brightly. Shaking through every movement, Negan managed to open up the locket. A smile tugged at his tired features when he saw the photos inside. “I took these too when I found your jacket. I didn’t know if I would ever see you again and they…they smelled like your cologne still. It was the closest thing to being near you without stealing the jacket. I know I couldn’t get away with that.”

Closing the locket, Negan looked at the rings and stroked his fingers over the one he had given Y/N when they got married, “Your mother wanted me to give you this ring to remember her by. I should have given it to you, but I just…”

“You couldn’t let her go,” Evie finished for him drawing Negan’s eyes to lift up to hers and he realized they were both still crying but trying to get through everything. “I get it. That’s meant to be with you. It was always meant to be with you.”

Stepping forward, Evie’s hands placed over his wrist and she urged them up for Negan to put the locket back on allowing it to rest at the center of his chest where it had been previously, “Don’t lose it this time, okay?”

“I promise,” Negan cried seeing her pushing up the sleeve of her jacket to roll down the bracelet that was his. Handing it over to him had him swallowing down hard. “Are you sure? You don’t want this to keep you safe?”

“You need it. So that way you know that I still need you here,” Evie grabbed his wrist and pushed the bracelet back over his arm. Stroking her fingers over the back of Negan’s hand had him exhaling loudly. “I love you daddy. And if I never see you again, I hope you realize how much I still need you. How much Nathan still needs you.”

“I love you so much,” Negan realized that this was their final goodbye and it broke him to think that he may never see her again. Stepping forward, he pulled her in so he could do his best to squeeze her tightly to him. “You were always the best of me and your mother. And your mother? She will always live on through you. I hope you know that. She would be so very proud of you.”

When Evie stepped away from him, he could see that she was sad, but she sucked in a sharp breath of air and nodded her head slowly. Staring out at Negan, she let her fingers slowly slip from his and she headed for the door. 

Watching her leave was hard. Nothing hurt more since being here than watching Evie leave the room. At first he did his best to try to hold it together, but the longer she was away, the sadder he grew leaving him a sobbing mess on his cot. After everything he’d been through, he missed her so much and getting that small amount of time with her made him realize just how much he wanted her in his life.

-----

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