Daryl X You - Tumblr Posts

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Beginning at the quarry and heavily following the series

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, canonical character death, poorly written smut, masturbation, allusions to abortion, medical blood draw, vomiting, allusions to suicide, minor canonical character death, child injury, pregnancy complications [Will update warnings as we go]

A/N: The series will heavily follow the timeline and events of the show but there will be additional non-canonical events/injuries/etc.

*Click here to be added to taglists.

Chapter Moodboards by @dannyo000: Pg 1, Pg 2

Summary: Daryl met you while hunting to feed the group he saddled himself with at the quarry. It was just sex, no strings attached. Until it wasn’t. Strangers to friends to lovers. A bit of slow burn and angst.

•Chapter 1

•Chapter 2

•Chapter 3

•Chapter 4

•Chapter 5

•Chapter 6

•Chapter 7

•Chapter 8

•Chapter 9

•Chapter 10……in progress

Gorgeous moodboard by the amazing @dustbunniess ❤️

The Spitting Image Series Masterlist

Summary: Years passed since last time you saw your ex-boyfriend and father of your son. Fate decided the perfect moment for you to reconnect was after the end of the world.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f! Reader

Warnings: swearing, violence, walkers, mentions of injuries, a little angsty. Minors do not interact. (If I forgot anything let me know)

A/N: It was supposed to be a one shot, but it was getting too big and I wasn’t in the middle of it, so I’ll make a mini series of it.

The reader’s son is 17 yo, so if you don’t feel comfortable reading something self insert having a kid this age, it’s up to you.

Here I’m supposing Daryl is in the beginning of his 40s when they get to Alexandria to make sense the age of his son.

Also, I have no idea how are the laws in the U.S.A. To register your children, so if it’s not possible to register a kid with the name of the father without the father, let’s pretend in this universe it is.

Part One

Part Two (Coming soon)

The Spitting Image | Part 1

Summary: Years passed since last time you saw your ex-boyfriend and father of your son. Fate decided the perfect moment for you to reconnect was after the end of the world.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f! Reader

Warnings: swearing, threatening, someone is punched, mentions of violence, mentions of doing harm to children (none of the characters, it’s just a thought), walkers, mentions of injuries, a little angsty. Minors do not interact. (If I forgot anything let me know)

Word Count: 4,419

A/N: It was supposed to be a one shot, but it was getting too big and I wasn’t in the middle of it, so I’ll make a mini series of it.

The reader’s son is 17 yo, so if you don’t feel comfortable reading something self insert having a kid this age, it’s up to you.

Here I’m supposing Daryl is in the beginning of his 40s when they get to Alexandria to make sense the age of his son.

Also, I have no idea how are the laws in the U.S.A. To register your children, so if it’s not possible to register a kid with the name of the father without the father, let’s pretend in this universe it is.

It had been days that you were out there with Aaron and Eric, you had found a possible group to invite to Alexandria. While you and Aaron was observing them from afar in the road, Eric was in a nearby city waiting for you.

That group seemed like a good group, they took care of each other and shared. They also had a kid and a baby, it needed to mean something. As a mom, you could clearly identify with their struggles and want to protect every kid you came by, unless it was a psychopath kid that wanted to kill you and your son, then… you had no empathy.

United and righteous people were exactly the kind of people you needed for Alexandria. It seemed as they were hungry and thirsty you had some supplies you could give them to help. Hiding on the trees you could only observe them using binoculars as you needed to remain far from them because of safety. You had never zoomed to observe them this much before, but there was something intriguing you and you didn’t voice it to Aaron yet. He was one of your best friends back in Alexandria, but you had to make sure.

There were a guy, all wearing black. He had a sleeveless black shirt that showed his toned arms, he seemed to be tall and had really broad shoulders and a relatively long hair. He carried a crossbow, and even though he was as tired and week as everyone else, he tried to not let it show. You only knew a person like this, but it had been so long since you last saw him that you thought this was your mind playing games with you. You were so young back then, you changed so much… he probably did too, probably you even crossed paths before the world ended and you didn’t recognized each other. But you had to make sure it wasn’t him so just your mind would relax and you could control your anxiety.

That’s why you were zooming the binoculars to the maximum and focusing solely on him, expecting him to look to a side so you could clearly see his face. He did, and when he did your heart stopped for some milliseconds and you thought all the air was drawn from your lungs. “Holly shit!” Was the only thing you were able to say, so glad now you could openly curse, because there wasn’t any child around.

“What’s it?” Aaron asked curiously and you passed him the binoculars unable to say anything. He looked at it, zooming out and couldn’t see anything extraordinary. “I don’t see anything. What did you see?”

You rested your back on the trunk of the tree that you were both sitting on its branch. You tried to breath in and out, just like your therapist had recommended you when you started to treat you’re anxiety.

“Y/N, what happened?” Aaron asked again turning his attention to you and holding your hand, which you accepted gratefully.

“I… I think my ex is in this group.” Oh my God. You were freaking out! It wasn’t as if you had ended bad, well it depends on the point of view, but seeing him after all this years, after all that happened, after…

“You think?” Aaron asked one more time, if it was your ex why you sounded like you were not completely sure.

“Yes, it was a long time ago. We were barely adults, so we changed a lot, but I’m 98% sure the archer is him.” You said continuing your exercise and taking your canteen with shaking hands to drink some water.

“Oh… let me check him out and see if you have good taste in men.”

“Aaron!” You protested the most silently you could. “Well, you may surprise a little when you see him, he is…”

“… DJ’s father! Holly crap!” He looked at you as if he had seen a ghost as the man looked exactly like the teenager boy he knew back in Alexandria, of course the man was way older than the boy. “Do you have an uterus or a copy machine in your belly?”

“Ok, if even you can see it’s totally him.” You said and you didn’t know if you were relieved or anxious, probably both at the same time.

“Ok, so… is he a good person to take with us?” He had to ask, even though you were good friends, you never talked much about him, it seemed to hurt you a lot, so he never pushed.

“Yes, of course. Don’t think I’d have named my child after him if he wasn’t.” You answered. It wasn’t his fault or yours, you just had to blame people like your parents that thought they were better than everyone else. “It’s just that it has been so long after last time we saw each other, I’m just nervous to meet him again.”

You tried approaching them by letting water and food as a gift for them on the road, but they just rejected everything, they were suspicious, they probably went through a lot of shit. You don’t blame them, you’d react the same if it was you. A heavy storm caught you by surprise, you needed to find shelter and protect yourselves. Once you saw the group entered a barn, you decided to go back to your RV and wait the next day or the storm pass before approaching them more directly this time.

The next morning the weather had improved, so you left again to where they were. At distance you saw two women near to the location of the barn, you approached them and presented yourselves and minutes later both of you were on your knees, hands behind your heads and an angry man in front of you. But before the said angry man could do anything or ask anything, the archer came from the shadows and your name left his lips. “Y/N”

“Daryl.” You replied a smile on your face, you wanted to keep a more straight face don’t be so pathetic about how you were happy to see him there alive, older and hotter, but you couldn’t, because it had always been like that, you’d see him and you wouldn’t be able to control yourself. You’d open the biggest smile at him and would have your heart racing with excitement and anxiety.

“Do you know each other?” The angry man asked Daryl, but you replied. You couldn’t hold your tongue, you were anxious and when it was like that, you’d say even what you weren’t meant to say.

“We dated.” You answered, also you knew that Daryl would die of shyness if he had to say you dated or anything like this. That’s if deep inside him he was still that boy.

The man you came to know the name was Rick Grimes shot you a look that said ‘I wasn’t talking to you.’ and then looked back at Daryl in hopes he would confirm it or not. “Yeah, it’s true.”

“If she’s his ex, she’s no good. We should better don’t believe them.” You saw a ginger man with a big mustache speaking.

“Listen here, Obelix. You better not bad mouth me again or I’ll beat you so hard your mustache is going to end on your ass!” You were normally sweet and polite, but you’d never let anyone judge you, or anyone that you loved, especially this person that doesn’t even know you.

“Definitely related to Daryl.” An asian man said and couldn’t contain a small laugh, even in the state the group was.

Daryl had a smirk on his face and you couldn’t read what it meant. The Rick guy didn’t took it easy on you just because Daryl knew you, he argument people could change and he wasn’t wrong. Most of the time he hold the conversation with Aaron and you were glad about it, Aaron was better at this than you were, even though you could bring a sense of comfort most of the times when you approached women or groups with children, this wasn’t a situation where Aaron actually needed you. Unless they decided to kill both of you or something else, then you’d have to play the last card you could with them and that could only be used with them, because of Daryl. You’d need to use your son to convince them to let you go, and you’d hate to do such thing. Using your son to blackmail someone was never something you’d like to do.

You remembered the day you first had the courage to talk to him, you had always thought he was cute and cool, but you never had the courage. Until a day your “friends” excluded you and you didn’t even got to know why. You were 16 and they were so immature to do such thing, so yeah, it was their loss you thought. That’s what you tried to say and convince yourself you were better without them.

At lunch time having no table to sit, you went straight to his table, that was it, your opportunity to get to know him. “Can I have a sit here?” You asked in front of him.

“ ‘m not the owner of the chair.” He said, eyes on his plate. “But ya won’t want to be seen with me sweetheart.”

“Thanks.” You put your tray on the table and took the chair in front of him. “I’m Y/N.”

“Daryl. We already know each other. We had a subject together. Once.” He remembered! You were ecstatic, of course you’d remember him, you developed a huge crush on him since you had to pair up, but you didn’t expect him to remember you. You didn’t think you were as cool as the other girls to be remembered. “Ya still have time to maintain the integrity of yer reputation and leave.”

“I have no reputation to save, my friends simply decided I’m not cool anymore, so… fuck them, gonna make whatever I want.” He snorted, he never thought he’d live to see you cuss. You never looked like one to do so. “What’s funny?”

“Thought you never cussed.”

“Well, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me Dixon.” You replied and from this time you started to pass more and more time together, starting a strange friendship that was the commonest thing for both of you, but people outside loved to judge.

Most of the time they were discussing, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. It was as if you did, he’d disappear into thin air. In the end Rick sent a group to your RV to confirm if you were telling the truth and threatened killing you if they took too long to comeback. After they came back, Rick agreed to go to Alexandria but they would drive and you should tell them where it was, and then started again another drama.

“How are we supposed to trust you? Maybe you got another group and a radio and you’re going to attack our place. We have children and elders, we can’t risk.” You tried to reason with him, even though you knew you were in a small number and you’d never win this ‘battle’.

“Don’t you trust Daryl?” Rick threw this card. Really?

“How am I supposed to when you didn’t believe me and he did nothing to tell you were wrong and I could be trusted?” He knew you were right, not even for a second you thought Daryl wasn’t the same, but you had a point and even he knew it.

In the end you had no option but give in to their requests. You took them to the nearest city so you could take Eric too and while fighting against walkers he got his ankle hurt. Not longer after you got back to the road and in direction of Alexandria. While going there you tried to make some small talk with them, but most were not very open to it.

“What’s her name?” You asked Daryl that had a beautiful baby in his arms.

“ ‘s Judith.” He answered, he looked at her with such adoration. It was adorable to see such a big and rustic man being so tender with a baby in his arms.

“She’s so pretty.” You always wanted a baby girl, but of course you were more than happy with your baby boy. It was just a silly girl dream to have a daughter so you can play doll with them. “Can I hold her a little? There’s a long time I don’t get to hold a baby.”

Despite the common silent agreement of the group to not trust you just yet, he trusted you and was sure you’d do nothing against his ‘lil ass kicker’. So he let you have her a little in your arms and she continued to sleep peacefully. Carl observed you with the eyes of a hawk, ready to end you if you did anything wrong against his little sister, but you didn’t.

“Is your family with ya?” Daryl drawled by your side while you were mesmerized by little Jude. He wanted to know if your asshole of dad was still around and also your mom, but he couldn’t ask it like this, he didn’t know how your relation with them were after everything, he didn’t want to offend you.

“It’s just me and my son, but he’s not this cute anymore and I no longer can carry him in my arms like that.” You replied, wishing he’d have curiosity about DJ, but also afraid of where this curiosity could take you in this moment.

“What’s his name?” He asked trying to be polite, but deep down it hurt him that you had another lover and had a child, he couldn’t control this, but it was painful anyway.

“DJ.” You simply said, god you didn’t want to reveal at this moment your baby was Daryl Dixon Junior. Before he could ask the name and not the nickname, you threw another question at him. “Did you get any of my letters?”

He was taken aback. You tried to keep contact with him. You tried to reach him out. “Did ya send me letters? I… Ididn’t know. I left with Merle shortly after what happened. Probably old man got them.”

By his surprise you believed he really didn’t know. He never read the letters. He never ignored you or pretended your son didn’t exist. Deep down, you knew he’d never do that, but you never could confirm it, because you never got to see him again. Until now.

A little after Carl took Judith from your arms, you already had enough. He couldn’t let you more than you were supposed to with the baby. While your mind wandered to the past, Daryl’s were a turmoil trying to decipher what could be the name of your son, since you gave no detail.

The day prior he had warned you ‘wear sneakers tomorrow, you asked why and he just repeated what he said before. So you did. There was almost a year since your friendship with Daryl Dixon started and at that moment, he was your best friend. Sometimes he’d stay with you studying in the library or just hanging out around the city. You trusted him.

Next day, you arrived at school and found him next to an old blue truck. “What’s that?”

“A car.” He answered the obvious.

“I know dumbass! But where did you get it?” You asked curiously, he had never gone to school in one.

“I borrowed it from Merle without telling him.” Which means he stole his own brother, at least for some hours. “I’m returning it later, probably won’t even know about it. He’s knocked out in his bedroom.”

“Ok, if he catch us, I’m telling it was all you.” You played with him, but you knew Merle would never catch you, at least not before Daryl arrived at home with it.

“It actually was.” He shrugged. “Also, no way he’d believe a sweet thing like you helped me in any of that.” You instantly blushed, it wasn’t always that Daryl would throw sweet words or compliments at you, so every time you’d not fail and blush. “Did ya wear sneakers?”

“Yep.” You put one foot in front of you to show your sneakers.

“Pink? Really?” He teased you, he knew for sure you’d wear at least one thing pink and you were always wearing sandals or any other more delicate shoes.

“I don’t have many sneakers, so… yeah.” You retracted your foot to stand close to the other again.

As soon as the bell rang you entered the school and went to your classes. In the end of the day, you got together at the parking lot ready to spend your day together. “Where are we going?” You asked curiously.

“Get in the car and you’ll see.” He replied going to the driver’s side.

“Ok, Dar. I’ll let you be all mysterious while I die out of curiosity.” You dramatically entered the truck and took the passenger sit.

You drove for some time and even got outside the city. You knew he was familiarized with the forest, he told you he’d hunt, but you never thought he’d bring you someday near it. “You know I know shit about hunting, don’t you?” You asked while the car stopped close to a small trail.

“Yep, dun worry. I didn’t bring ya here to go hunting. It’s something else, wanna show you a place.” He slightly touched your hand reassuring you and you could swear it sent a delicious tingling sensation all over your body.

He got out of the truck, took a bag in the truck bed and waited for you so you could start the trail. There was 5 minutes you were walking when you tripped and almost fell down, leading to the boy to hold your hand until you arrived at your final destination.

It was a waterfall, a beautiful one, with a small lake. The water was a beautiful green surrounded by big rocks. You got all excited with the sight and gave your biggest smile to him, which made his heart flutter and stole a small smile from him.

You took your sneakers off and both of you sat on a rock where you could put your feet in the cold refreshing water. There was the shadow of a tree that made it bearable to be outside there in the warm weather. You loved how Daryl was relaxed and just enjoying the place and your company, you could talk a lot or talk nothing and it would be perfect for him.

You don’t know what made you do that, but the moment just felt perfect to speak your mind to him, actually speak with your heart. “I like you, Daryl.”

“Yeah, we’re friends of course ya do.” It was obvious if you didn’t you wouldn’t be around.

“No, I like you in the way I’ve been crushing on you for years and just now I have the courage to say, yay…” you said, trying to be a little funny so the moment wouldn’t be so embarrassing, but it would be already too embarrassing if he just rejected you at that moment.

He looked at you impressed and thinking how you could like him for so long if everybody in the school, no, in the damn city thought he was a sore loser and a scumbag. “Are ya sure?” He double checked, just in case.

“I wouldn’t put myself in this embarrassing situation with risk of you rejecting me and losing your friendship if I didn’t.” You turned to look at him and were struck by his deep blue eyes that seemed to see your soul every time you looked into it. “It’s ok if you don’t feel the same, I’ll…”

Before you could finish your apologetic sentence, his lips crashed on yours and his hand held yours one more time, and that was the first of many kisses you’d come to share in the following years.

You woke up startled, the RV came to a stop. You were finally at the gates of Alexandria, you and Aaron got off first and the rest of the group followed you and once the gates were open you could see that at the same time they were cautious they were also impressed with the place. You entered the gate and Deanna came to welcome the new people. Aaron took Eric to the infirmary and before you could excuse yourself and go home take a good bath and spend some quality time with your child, you saw the tall teenager in his 17s running in your direction. You suddenly worried, he would see him. Both of them would see each other. You smiled at your baby boy that wasn’t a baby anymore, and he hugged you tightly even taking you from the ground. He had became so tall in the last years that it was funny to see the difference of his height to his mom’s.

Daryl was frozen in place, when he saw the young man running in your direction it was as if he could see his younger self in the past, but he wasn’t hallucinating or anything like that, because that boy that looked so much like him had also many features from you. The group looked surprised at the boy, probably thinking the same thing Aaron thought when he landed his eyes at Daryl. A million thoughts ran on the hunter’s mind, this kid just could be his… he had too because no way someone could look so much like the other and don’t be blood related, especially being the son of your youth lover.

“How are you baby?” You asked cupping DJ’s face with your hand and checking his face to see if he was healthy and well.

“I’m ok mom, are you good?” He asked back observing you, he had always been such a good observer.

“We need to talk…” you started to say but couldn’t finish because the boy’s eyes landed on Daryl some meters behind looking at both of you.

DJ knew, you told him before how he looked so much like his dad. So he knew when he looked strictly to an older version of him. He put you aside and walked strong steps on Daryl’s direction, you yelled his name but he just ignored you and before you could stop him, he punched his father right on his jaw.

“DJ! No!” You put yourself between both of them.

“No? Mom! He never cared about us and now he just shows here like this? He ignored all the letters you sent and the pictures of me, and…” he bursted the feelings trapped on his chest all those years. He had the perfect speech on his mind, he elaborated it for years just to end his father and make him ashamed of what he did, but now he didn’t even say half of it and the rest stayed stuck in his throat unable to come out as tears accumulated in his blue eyes.

“It’s ok. I probably deserve it.” Daryl said from behind.

“Honey, it’s not like this. We don’t solve anything like this. You don’t know the whole story.” You rested your hands on your son’s shoulders.

“You mean the edited version of how he never cared about us, or looked for us? I know you never told me everything, I’m not stupid. And I also know men are bastards that don’t care about discarding pregnant women!” Shit. Shit. Shit. Things were getting out of control the boy was causing a scene.

“Listen to me, Daryl Dixon Junior! I’m your mother and I’d never name you after your father if he was this kind of bastard!” You firmly told him, there were so many years that you didn’t call him by his whole name that he knew he would be in trouble if he didn’t obey you at that moment. “Now, apologize, go home and wait for me.”

“Fine.” The young man said teeth greeted. “I’m sorry for punching you because you’re an asshole.” With that he turned around and left before you could lecture him one more time in front of everyone.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Daryl asked. Obviously not talking about the past, it was clear to him that you tried in the past.

“I wouldn’t dare use my son to bring you to safety. I know you’d come if I said, and your group… I know this kind of bond, you’re family. I didn’t want to be selfish and make all of you come because I used DJ to convince you. I wanted you to come because you wanted, because you trusted what Aaron and I were offering.”

He couldn’t understand well about it, he wasn’t a father till some minutes ago… even though he wished he was one long before, the kid really had a personality, reminding him a lot about himself and even about Merle. But he could try to understand, to listen to you and if he stopped to think, it didn’t made a difference if you told before or now, he would still have the same feeling of anxiety, excitement and lost, lost for all the years and everything that he lost not being around his son.

“I’m sorry you had to discover like that.” You apologized even though you knew in no way it would be less shocking for him. “We have a lot to talk, the three of us… of course, if you want to.”

“Yeah, we need to talk. I wanna know everything and I wanna know him, if ya allow me and if he wants.” He was quick to answer. God, how could you even give him a choice? He had to do it.

“Great. So… I’m gonna let you finish solving things with Deanna, when you are free, come to my house. It’s the one with the magenta pink doormat.” You give some steps backwards, eyes still on him.

“Pink, hugh…” he knew everything with you needed to have a little of pink and for sure with the end of the world you could not afford pink acessories, at least you’d make sure that one thing in your life was.

“Yes…” you almost murmured. “I’ll see you later.”

“See ya…” he replied. Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series)

Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Hello! First of all I love your stories so much💖 and hope you're having an amazing day. I wanted to ask if you could write something with this, feel free to decline if not 😊

I have this idea of Daryl and the reader being a thing before the apocalypse, Merle hated his girl and left her closed in a place with loads of walkers around without D knowing(something similar to what happens to him in Atlanta) but she manages to escape and survive thanks to what D has taught her. The group at the prison helps her after finding her tiredly fighting some walkers close to there. D and M are in the woods and the scene of D's back comes and says that the reader was his saviour for staying with him even after that and that they were planning to escape and get married. They arrive at the prison and she punches M in the face and well says to D everything that happened. M gets to see how D gets around Reader and before leaving the prison says to reader to take care of his bro and "sacrifices" himself going to fight the governor, D and r found him already turned and they both cry, promising to take care of each other.

I love the detail here! Plz forgive me, this turned out way longer than I intended. Nearly 5k words! I hope I did your vision justice! It was getting pretty long so I had to cut and tweak some things but I tried make sure to include all your key details!

Separated

Summary: You and the Dixon brothers are on your way to Atlanta to find that refugee center you heard about on the radio before they stopped broadcasting. When your journey is interrupted and you and Merle get separated from Daryl, Merle impulsively leaves you trapped and stranded in fear Daryl would choose you over him if it came down to it. When you're reunited with your love, you face tragedy together.

Note: There are some time jumps here. They're labeled to hopefully avoid confusion. Also some canon dialogue <3 A lot of your backstory with the Dixons wasn't totally necessary but I was trying to create a ~vibe~

18+ MDNI || Warnings: profanity, TWD typical violence, canonically moral deficient character, death and dying, mentions of alcohol and pills

the way he cowers and shrinks away from Merle's walker makes me cry every time omg

Then:

        Things went south so fast. The three of you were traveling relatively trouble free. The guys could hunt, and Daryl had taught you a thing or two yourself, so food was never an issue. Finding water wasn't as hard as it would be later down the line. All the supplies left in homes and stores hadn't been completely ransacked yet. It was the beginning of the outbreak. With Merle's truck, Daryl's bike, some weapons and supplies, and the general survival skills you were learning from the two of them, fleeing to the city to find that refugee center had been as easy as something like that could get, until the water ran out.

        It should have been an easy pit stop. The town was small. Your grandma would have called it a 'blink of an eye' town, because when you passed towns so small on a trip they'd fly by in the blink of an eye. There was a general store right on the corner, so that was where you decided to start the search. Just some water, maybe first aide and booze. Who knew what you'd find? The truck was parked right outside the store. Daryl wanted a smoke. He said he'd meet you and Merle inside. Then the growls started. Daryl could hear them from a distance, so he knew it was a big herd. 

        None of you had had much trouble with the big groups of them yet. So far, maybe ten or fifteen at a time. You killed the ones that got too close and fled as fast as you could. No unnecessary risks, that was the rule. Merle always said if he died it would be from something cool like a police shootout or a bank robbery. He refused to go out the way those things took people out. Daryl always said he'd shoot himself before he let them get the chance to eat him alive or turn him. He'd never be a walking corpse. You? Daryl always said you were too pretty to die. You just said you were too much of a badass. 

        Daryl popped his head inside. There were only two freaks inside and they were easy enough to take down, so you and Merle were just looting by then. 

        "Incoming. We gotta head out." Daryl announced.

        "Just a second, baby brother. I'm lookin' for the whiskey." Merle said.

        "Ain't got time for that. I can hear 'em comin'." Daryl insisted. You zipped your bag up with everything you had found so far, including the water, and walked toward your broody boyfriend with a half smile.

        "There were exactly three waters left. How's that for good luck?" You said to him.

        "Why'd'ya think I keep ya 'round? You're my good luck charm." He winked before slapping the window to get Merle's attention. "C'mon, man! No unnecessary risks!" 

        You slipped past Daryl and stepped outside, throwing your bag in the bed of the truck. You could hear the moans and groans. You turned your attention in the direction of the noise and you could see the heads peeking up over a hill. Your eyes grew wide as your heart sped up.

        "Uh... Guys? We gotta go!" You called out, not taking your eyes off the herd that was slowly coming into view. You had never seen so many of them.

        "Merle, come on!" Daryl was growing more aggravated and impatient as the seconds ticked by. 

         Daryl jogged back to the truck just as Merle was emerging from the little shop. With no sense of urgency in sight, Merle just looked over the bottle of Jack he had found as he casually strolled over to the driver's side. You scooted into the middle seat and Daryl hopped in the passenger spot and slammed his door shut.

        "Hurry up, man!" Daryl urged his brother. 

        Merle grumbled some smartass remark about being afraid of 'a few dead bodies' as he cranked the engine and hit the gas, speeding away.

Now

        You were so sore. So exhausted. So ready to just give in, but you couldn't. You refused to give in that easy. Someone told you once that you were too pretty to die, and you took that to heart. 

        You kept swinging your machete at them as they closed in on you. You were cornered between a building and a fence. What the hell were you supposed to do now? You had no idea, but you were determined to figure it out. You had gotten yourself out of worse situations.

Then

        "Gon' have to circle back somewhere to get back on the interstate." Daryl informed, looking at the map.

        "I don't need a second driver." Merle waved him off. You rolled your eyes. You were glad to be surviving something so scary with the man you loved, but the third wheel was getting hard to live with. 

        "Whatever, man." Daryl huffed, turning his attention to the window instead of paying his brother any mind.

        You kept your attention on the rearview mirror, relieved to see the herd fading away as the truck rolled forward. Those things really freaked you out, especially when they were all together like that, stumbling and bumping into each other carelessly.

        A mile or so down the road, you heard a loud pop and the engine started to sputter. "Ah, hell." Merle sighed. 

        "What?" Daryl asked, leaning forward to see his brother.

        "Gas is empty." He replied, looking down at the dash.

        "Are you kiddin' me?" Daryl asked incredulously. "Ya didn't think to check before?"

        "I did check, but I thought we'd be back on the interstate by now. Plenty o' cars to siphon a li'l fuel from back there." Merle defended. 

        "Hate to raise the stakes even higher here," you interrupted. "But, that herd is gonna be catching up soon, so we need to figure something out."

        Merle shot you a sideways glance. If it was up to him he would have just left you back home and fled with his brother, but Daryl insisted on picking you up. Now, he couldn't even hop on his bike with his baby brother and sail away to safety because there wouldn't be room for you and Daryl would never agree. He wasn't the greatest brother, but he wouldn't leave Daryl behind either.

        "Wha's that?" Daryl suddenly asked, breaking the tense silence as the three of you considered your pressing circumstances.

        You both turned your attention to what the archer was pointing out. Just beyond the treeline was a small wooden structure. Some kind of shack. 

        "A house?" You wondered.

        "Nah. Shed or somethin'." Daryl figured.

        "Maybe we can hide there and let the freaks pass by. They're pretty stupid, right? Maybe they'll just keep going straight if we don't draw their attention." You suggested.

        "Won't even know we're there." Daryl agreed.

        "Well then let's quit the yappin' and get over there before they see us." Merle drawled as he pushed his door open. Daryl got out and offered you a hand while you stepped out of the truck. Your posh parents never liked him much, but they never saw what a gentlemen he could really be. You had cut ties with them long before the dead started roaming.

Now

        You were beginning to think maybe this was really the end. It really wasn't that many. Seven at the most. But you were just so tired. You lazily swung the blade into a skull and struggled to yank it out. You had climbed on top of a dumpster, so at least they couldn't reach you, but you were still trapped until you could get rid of them. You wondered how stupid it would be to take a quick nap. Surely one of them would reach you eventually. You decided against it.

Then

        Without any spoken agreement, the three of you grabbed any supplies you thought you'd need and jogged over to the dilapidated structure. It was vacant and smelled faintly of mildew and rotting wood.

        "It'll do." Merle sighed.

        "Do? This is a mansion compared to the truck." You remarked, stretching your body. You were stiff from so much sitting. 

        The three of you watched silently through the cracks in the door as the herd stumbled by with their swinging arms and dragging feet. The smell was something you couldn't get used to, and with so many of them, it was strong. You gagged quietly. Daryl rubbed a hand up and down your back when he noticed.

        The three of you really thought you were fine. You outsmarted the dead ones and soon you'd be on your way again. You had never been so wrong about anything before.

        Merle got a little too comfortable given the situation. He went and dug through his duffel for his whiskey. He had been drinking so much you wondered if his piss could get someone drunk. The entire time you'd been on the road with them, the man had managed to find liquor everywhere he went. There wasn't a single day he hadn't been drunk, and if there had been, you were sure he'd have a stash of pills to keep him feeling nice. You guessed you couldn't blame him. Shit was rough nowadays.

        When Merle found the bottle he dropped it and it shattered. After giving Merle a look that could kill, Daryl turned his attention back to the herd. A few of them were veering off. The sound had caught their attention. Only a few heard, but as they started walking toward the shed, more followed. 

        "Shit." You whispered. 

        "This place ain't gon' hold." Daryl added.

        "My Jack." Merle complained.

        "Hell with your booze, man." Daryl scoffed as some of the dead started to claw at the outside. "We gotta go."

        "Go  where, baby brother?" 

        "We could take down the few that are at the door and break for the truck."  You thought.

        "Nah, too many on the road. But we can run off that way." Daryl nodded toward the back of the shed.

        "Okay." You nodded, throwing your bag over your shoulders and readying your machete.

        Merle haphazardly hooked his duffel and cocked his pistol.

        "No guns. Too loud." Daryl reminded him.

        "Relax. It's a last resort." Daryl shrugged, tucking it unto his belt. With a nod to each other, you and Daryl kicked the door open and took down two walkers. Merle was right behind you.

Now

        Tires screeched from ahead. You looked up and saw a car. A woman and a man got out of the vehicle and rushed over, taking down the walkers with ease and precision. Gee, you thought. Bet it's nice to have someone that has your back. 

        The couple walked over to the dumpster and eyed you cautiously, glancing at each other. "You okay?" The man finally asked.

        "Could use an espresso." You quipped.

        "What's your name?" The woman inquired.

        "(Y/N)." 

        "I'm Maggie." She introduced. "This is Glenn."

Then

        Only using your energy on the ones closest, the three of you darted deeper into the woods. They followed, because they saw you and now they wanted you. 

        Only, there were more in the trees than you anticipated. Usually the woods were pretty clear save for a few stragglers here and there. These woods were not. You wondered why, but there was no time to guess. You just kept running.

        Eventually there were just too many. Daryl got pushed further and further away as more and more emerged from behind trees. When you realized you couldn't see him anymore you called for him.

        "Quiet girl! He can take care o' himself. You're drawin' more to us!" Merle hissed. You reluctantly obeyed, because you knew he was right. Daryl probably evaded them somewhere and would meet you both back at the truck.

        When the running began to take its toll and your chest started to burn, you put more of a focus on searching for somewhere to hide. To your advantage, there was an overgrown cabin not too far ahead. erle peered over his shoulder.

        "We're losin' em. Let's get inside an' wait 'em out. Daryl 'll meet us back at the truck when it passes." He strategized well for his inebriated state.

        "Okay." You breathed, just grateful for a chance to stop and rest.

Now

        "Need some help? Maggie asked, offering you a hand as you slid off the edge of the dumpster.

        "Thanks." 

        "You have a group?" Glenn wondered. Maggie gave him an unsure look. You noticed Glenn looked pretty beat up. You wondered what happened.

        "No." You said lowly. You did have people, but you were left behind. 

        "Well.." Glenn trailed off, looking to Maggie as if to silently ask what they should do with you.

        "You can come with us. Can't promise you can stay though." She spoke up.

Then

        The cabin had been vacant for a long time. Some of the old dusty furniture remained so you both sat down and just breathed. You handed him a water bottle and sipped on one for yourself while you waited. It felt like hours had gone by. It had grown dark out. Merle peeked out of the window. There were a bunch of them all around, but they had no idea the two of you were in there. It seemed like they lost their lead and just stopped, staggering around in the same spot. 

         "There's a lot of 'em, but they ain't payin' attention. I say we leave out the back an' sneak back toward the road." Merle suggested. You thought for a second. 

        "Yeah," you nodded. "Okay." 

        Just as you passed it by, Merle suddenly shoved you in a closet and shut it behind you.

        "Merle, what the fuck, man?" You complained, banging at the door. It wouldn't budge.

        "Quiet, now. Don't wanna draw in any unwanted attention." He taunted. You sighed.

        "Merle, c'mon this isn't funny."

        "'Fraid it ain't a joke, Darlin. Truck's outta gas an' my bike only carries two."

        Your heart sank.

        "Daryl isn't just gonna leave without me." You reminded.

        "He won't have a choice when I tell 'im 'bout how them dead ones took ya down." He mockingly lamented. "It was just terrible, ya know? They grabbed her. I couldn't pull'er away in time before they got to chompin'."

        "The hell, dude? Don't do this!" You begged, banging at the door again.

        "Look. Ya got your bag in there, got your weapon, got your wits. You'll figure it out." He reasoned.

        "Not if I'm trapped!" 

        "I'm sure you can kick that slab o' wood down if ya try hard enough." He was getting further away by the sounds of it. "Jus' try not to be too loud. Don't want 'em hearin' ya."

Now

        "I'd be grateful." You admitted. "I haven't had anywhere to rest in a while. I have some medicine here I'd be happy to share in exchange for a good night of rest."

        "Watcha got?" Maggie asked.

        "We actually came out her for medicine." Glenn added.

        "Some antibiotics, some Benadryl, some stuff for pain. Oh, and I found an EpiPen. I'm allergic to bees, so." 

        "Antibiotics is what we need." Maggie said.

        "Yeah, whatever you need. Thanks again."

        They still hit a few stores while you rested in their car. Maggie made sure to grab the keys just in case you tried anything, but you were too tired to try even if you wanted to. When they had found everything they thought they'd need for the prison, they drove you back. Rick and the others were apprehensive, with everything happening with Woodbury and recently losing one of their best fighters. Daryl was also their hunter, their tracker, and generally someone they all relied on.

        You explained to them that you were traveling with some people to Atlanta but they left you behind and you'd been on the move ever since. "I'd be glad to sleep outside if it makes you more comfortable." You said to Rick. "I can leave in the morning. I just really need somewhere to sleep."

        Rick studied you for an uncomfortably long time before he asked, "How many walkers have you killed?"

        "Walkers?" You asked. You'd never heard that term before.

        "The dead." He clarified.

        "Oh... I don't know, really. A lot."

        "How many people have you killed?"

        "None." You said honestly. "But there is one person I might beat to death if I ever see him again."

        "Why?" 

        "He left me stranded, surrounded by the dead."

The Next Morning

        Rick let you sleep in a separate cell block. He let you know you'd be locked in for a the night but that he'd come get you in the morning to talk. You didn't really care. You just wanted rest. 

        When he came and got you that morning you were offered a warm meal, which you gladly accepted. You made sure to give them the majority of your antibiotics as a show of gratitude. 

        Meanwhile, deep in the woods, two rednecks were hashing it out. Name calling, shoving, whatever it took to unleash all the pent up frustrations they had between each other.

        See, in all that time Daryl spent with Rick and their group, he began to find a side of himself that was suppressed with his brother around. The only person to ever make him believe he could be good was taken from him before they made it to the quarry. Merle, on the other hand, only represented everything that Daryl was trying to put behind him. Merle was capable of hurting good people or looking the other way instead of helping someone in danger. If only Daryl knew some of the things Merle had really done.

        "There was a baby!" Daryl defended as Merle laid into him for risking his own ass to save a family on a bridge.

        "Oh, otherwise ya woulda just left 'em to the biters." Merle retorted.

        "Man, I went back for ya. Ya weren't there. I didn't cut off your hand, neither. You did that. Way before they locked you up on that roof. You asked for it."

        "You know what's funny to me? Hmm? You and Sheriff Rick are like this now." Merle said, locking his two fingers together. "I bet you a penny and a fiddle o' gold you never told him that we were plannin' on robbin' that camp blind."

        "It didn't happen!" Daryl snapped. "And we woulda never had to if ya didn't let the truck run out o' gas! And my girlfriend wouldn't be dead!" Daryl's chest was heaving as his eyes stung, threatening to spill fresh tears at the thought of her. Merles eyes flashed something Daryl couldn't quite decipher.

        "It didn't happen 'cause I wasn't there to help you!"

        "When we were kids.. Who left who then, huh?" Daryl frowned.

        "What? Huh, is that why I lost my hand?" Merle rasped.

        "You lost your hand 'cause you're a simple-minded piece o' shit!" 

        "Yeah?!" Merle lost it. He grabbed Daryl by the shirt. "You don't know!"

        When Daryl fell to the ground, his shirt ripped down the back. Merle froze. His chest felt tight as he stared down at the gruesome scene left on Daryl's back from years of abuse at the hands of their father. "I -- I didn't know --"

        "Yeah, ya did." Daryl's voice cracked as he pushed himself to his feet. "That's why ya left. But (Y/N), she never left. She was always there, man. Always. She was the one who saved me. She protected me. Not you, man!" He wiped a tear as he took a breath between heated words. "We were gon' run away, gon' get the hell outta that town and get married, maybe start a family. I don't know, and I never will thanks to you!"

        He did blame his big brother for the loss of his love, but not in the way that he should have. He blamed Merle's clumsiness, carelessness, and negligence. He had no idea that Merle trapped and abandoned you.

Later

        Daryl went back home to the prison. Merle couldn't stand too watch him leave, so he followed. Guilt was starting to eat at him, gnawing away at his insides, mouthfuls at a time. He almost felt nauseous hearing about you and what Daryl had planned with you. He tried to imagine his battered baby brother in a nice little house with a wife and kids. Hell, he even tried to picture it for himself, but the image wasn't clear enough for it to seem possible. All either of them had ever known was violence and loneliness. That was why they needed each other. That was why he had to get rid of you.

        You had just finished a tour of the prison. Rick told you that you could stay for a while, but he didn't know if he trusted you as one of them. He shared a little about a rival community with a crazed leader. You understood. You never expected to stick around, even if they offered. You couldn't see yourself trusting anyone after what Merle did to you.

        You were sitting in the cell you slept in the night before, sharpening your machete and thinking about the things that you couldn't change. You heard distant voices echoing from the other block. It was some sort of confrontation from the sound of it. You snuck over to the cellblock where everyone stayed and peeked around a corner. Glenn and Maggie were blocking most of your view, but they seemed to be the most pissed off. Rick was off to the side trying to mediate.

        "You can't let him stay. Not after what he did to Glenn!" Maggie demanded.

        "He goes, I go."

        You stopped breathing. That voice sent chills up and down your spine. 

        "Okay." Rick held his hand out, attempting to set forward a solution but the room fell silent as you stepped into view. Merle noticed you first. He looked like he had seen a ghost.

        "Well, I'll shit bricks." He murmured in disbelief.

        "(Y/N)?" Daryl breathed, almost inaudibly. Your eyes were welling with tears as you stood just feet away from the man you loved.

        Daryl dropped everything and ran over to you, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up. You couldn't even hug him back because your arms were trapped under his. All you could do was let out something between a giggle and sob.

        "Daryl." You whispered. Your body felt so perfect against his, just how he remembered. Then, it dawned on him. He set you down and turned to look at Merle, a blend of betrayal and fury flooding his eyes.

        "You said she was dead!" Daryl growled. 

        As everyone around you watched the scene before them unfold, they felt clueless. Daryl had never mentioned you because it hurt too much to bring up. Your feet began moving before you could even think. One second you were standing beside Daryl, then you blinked and you were inches away from Merle, rearing your fist back and striking his jaw with a force you didn't even know you were capable of. Merle stumbled and dropped to the ground holding his face. He moved his jaw around a little before he glared up at you.

        "Okay. I deserved that." He accepted.

        "Yeah, you did." You spat. 

        "Hold on. Someone care to explain what the hell's goin' on here?" Rick spoke out.

        You turned to Daryl, as if it was he who answered the question. You didn't care to share with the class. Daryl needed to know.

        "When we got separated in the woods.." You began, taking a breath. "Merle and I found a cabin. We hid there, waited for shit to blow over, and we were supposed to meet you back at the ruck. Merle figured you'd wait for us there."

        "And I left her." Merle admitted from behind you. You glanced back at him momentarily. You were surprised at his accountability.

        "In a closet." You added spitefully. "The place was surrounded. Took me forever to get out of there and even longer to get back to the truck. By then, you two and the bike were gone."

        Daryl's nostrils flared with rage. His fists were balled up so tight his knuckles turned white against his tan skin. His shoulders rose and fell with each heavy breath he took. He was so pissed, so hurt. The weight of the revelation had weighed him down so heavily that his boots felt like they were nailed to the ground. Otherwise, he would have lunged at his brother and beaten the teeth out of his skull. All that time Daryl spent in pain, mourning the loss of someone who wasn't gone. All because his brother didn't like her.

        "Why." Daryl growled.

        "The bike only fit two, man." 

That Night

        You sighed contently as Daryl traced little circles over your shoulder. Once it was decided to leave Merle in a cell, and everything had been explained to Rick, you and Daryl retired to his own cell to enjoy your reunion in private. He was laying on the bottom bunk, one foot crossed over the other as he stared into space, enjoying the feeling of your head on his chest and your arm and leg draped over him.

        "I missed you." You whispered, breaking a long, comfortable silence.

        "Mm." He hummed. "I mourned ya every day. I shoulda gone back."

        "Don't do that. We're together now. Don't blame yourself." 

        "Shoulda never believed 'im. I knew how jealous he was. Thought he'd get over it." He confessed. You smiled softly and nuzzled up closer, taking in a whiff of his sweaty scent.

        "Me too." You agreed. "But he left me with my bag. He didn't want me to die. I think he was afraid if only two of us fit on the bike you'd leave him behind."

        "Nah. Woulda had your sweet ass ride the handlebars." He teased, twirling a finger through your hair. You giggled, then you paused.

        "Wow. I think that's the first time I've laughed since we got split up." You realized.

        "Sure ya didn't find no boyfriends along the way?" He joked. He always did that when things felt too heavy between the two of you. You rolled your eyes, not that he could see it.

        "You say that like I've had a lot of those. We've been together since we were like, twenty." You laughed.

The Next Day

        Merle and Michonne had disappeared. You learned that the leader of the opposing community -- the Governor, as they called him -- wanted Michonne in exchange for peace, but Rick refused. Merle had likely taken her as a peace offering since he knew what the Governor was capable of.

        You and Daryl left to search for him. He took you to a spot where they had previously convened for negotiation. The two of you did a brief sweep of the area before stumbling across some walkers. You each took one down after another until you were left with only one. You froze when you registered what -- or who -- it was. 

        A sob immediately escaped Daryl as he fell backwards. You blinked back tears as you crouched down behind him and pulled him against you, rocking gently as Daryl wept. Merle's dead body clumsily pushed itself off the ground and onto its feet. You stood first, hoping to put it down before Daryl had to do it himself, but Daryl was quick to push past you. He violently shoved the corpse. It sumbled back, but it walked toward him again. Over and over Daryl shoved what was left of his brother as he cried. Tears were freeling spinning down your cheeks. 

        When Merle's body fell on its back, Daryl crawled on top of it and plunged his knife into its skull over and over and over until he collapsed.

        You wanted to intervene, to console, to be his rock, but something told you to let him get it out. He needed to. So, you waited until Daryl's blind rage simmered down and placed an assuring hand on his shoulder.

        "Wanna bury him?" You whispered.

        Daryl shook his head.

        "Okay." You relented. You glanced around your surroundings and noticed a patch of wildflowers off in the distance. "I'll be right back." You squeezed him gently before jogging over and gathering each and every flower in the patch. When you walked back over to where Daryl was hunched over Merle, he looked up at you with wet, red eyes. When he clocked the flowers, he gave a single nod and stood up beside you. You split the flowers in half and handed Daryl a bundle. The two of you placed them each individually around Merle's corpse.

        You thought back to a conversation you had with Merle the night before, when you couldn't sleep and went out of the cell to get some water.

        "Take care of my baby brother, will ya?" Merle's voice echoed through the quiet block.

        "I always have." 

"We'll take care of each other." Your vice cracked as you spoke. "Promise."

        "Promise." Daryl whispered.

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Safer

Summary: After the fall of the prison and a brutal assault, Daryl cares for you.

NOTE (please read): A mutual requested this a while ago. Took a long while to write, and tbh I considered turning the req down given the premise and my firm stance on writing graphic SA which you can find here. However, they explained to me that they are a victim of a violent s*xual assault, and they expressed it would be healing in a way to have a story where they were cared for by their comfort character. After some consideration, I decided to go for it. I'm sure a lot of us have been victimized by people who couldn't control their urges, or those who lacked respect for our boundaries, bodies, and consent. Myself included. So, this story is for us, to those of us that can stomach it. 

DISCLAIMER: There are no scenes of graphic SA, only the aftermath. While I will not be telling any descriptive scenarios of being assaulted, I do want to clearly express that this is a generally heavy story and it may not be suitable for all audiences. Please consume responsibly.

**I will not be tagging anyone on the taglist due to the content of this story**

18+MDNI ||  WARNINGS: non-graphic allusions to SA, violence, mild nudity descriptions, generally heavy content so I can't say it enough: TW!!!

Banner from: cafekitsune

IF YOU READ BEYOND THIS POINT, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. I have made great effort not to trigger anyone, and to give all readers an opportunity to turn away if this story is not suitable for you.

        Daryl's vision was blurred as he blinked himself to consciousness. It took him some time to gather his thoughts and recognize his surroundings. His wrists and ankles were bound together, his mouth gagged with a cloth that tasted of sweat and filth. He stared up at the treetops towering over him. It was dark outside, save for the dim light of a dying campfire a few feet away. He lifted his head from the forest floor and looked down past his feet. Lumps of sleeping bodies under raggedy blankets and torn sleeping bags rested around him. His heart raced as his memories crept back in; of you, screaming his name, of him fighting off the group of men who caught him off guard, of twigs snapping and a searing pain over the side of his head. Was that why his face felt so sticky? Was it dried blood?

        His eyes strained in the fading light of ember and ash. Where were you? He noticed a crumpled form at the foot of a tree. Her breathing was shallow and her clothes were torn, pants not even pulled up over her bare behind. That much, he could see. His throat tightened. His eyes watered. What the hell had he let them do to you? How could he have let this happen? He had to get you out of there, and fast. If they hadn't killed him yet, that was surely on their agenda.

        He began to squirm and writhe against his restraints. Whoever tied him up had experience. Just as hopelessness began to set in and cloud his judgement with fear -- real, genuine fear -- he noticed a reflection in the leaves. Just a few feet past his boots, a man was curled up on his side, snoring lightly in the calm breeze. His back was turned to Daryl, and behind him set a grungy backpack with a blade sticking out of the smallest pocket in the front. He glanced back  to you, shivering on the ground, unsure if you were awake or unconscious or simply passed out from the exhaustion of prior events. 

        The sight of you in your disheveled mess was all her needed to kick him into gear. Carefully and hastily, he scooted himself down toward his only chance at redeeming his status as a loyal protector of the weak and vulnerable. Ideally, he'd be able to accomplish this in silence, but he was not in an ideal situation. His circumstances were heavy, laced in sweat and angst. The leaves beneath him rustled as his back slid across the ground, twigs snapping or moving to the side as he made his way closer to the large hunting knife. He'd pause between each scoot, studying the sleeping men around him for any sign of movement or wakefulness. When he'd decide the coast was clear enough, he'd resume. It felt like an eternity, but he made it there. 

        His core muscles strained as he sat himself up. He realized how sore he was. He must have taken a good beating. Seemed fitting, though. He was never one to go down without a fight. He left that sort of weakness in his past.

        He guided his shaky, bound hands over to the bag. He slowly slid the knife out of the front pocket. His heart raged against his ribs. He didn't dare take a single breath until it was secured. 

        Slow. Slowness. Slowly. He repeated every variation of the word in his mind as he positioned the knife between his palms and dragged it back and forth until the rope finally severed. A silent breath of relief escaped him as he ripped the gag from his lips and worked on the rope tied around his ankles. When he was free, he stood and counted the sleeping bodies beneath him. Excluding you, there were four. 

        He considered waking you up and running for the hills, but he couldn't leave any loose ends. No, he thought of it like when your t-shirt has a loose thread. You could leave it to keep unraveling, or you could burn it at  the base and extend the lifetime of your clothes. He decided he needed to burn this string before it could unravel any further.

        Starting with the man closest to him -- the one who so graciously left his knife in plain sight for the archer -- he krept over and crouched down, plunching the blade into the base of his skull. Then, he moved on to the next, and the next one, and the one after that, until they were all a problem of the past. Until that pesky little thread could do no further damage to the rest of the shirt.       

        When the dirty work was behind him, he dropped the knife and rushed over to you. Your wrists were tied like his, but you were tied to the tree so you couldn't run. He eyed you over and gulped. With your pants not fully covering you and your shirt all ripped up, he could see the finger-shaped bruises littering your skin. There was blood on your inner thighs. Your lips were swollen and cut. His blood heated until it hit a boiling point. His hands trembled as they hovered over you. Touching you  felt like a crime, but he had to wake you. He had to get you out of there.

        "(Y/N)." He whispered as he laid a hand on your shoulder. You were shivering in the cool air, but a thin layer of sweat blanketed your exposed flesh. He gave you a gentle shake. "((Y/N), c'mon. We gotta go." He pleaded softly.        

        Your body jerked and you jolted awake. You gave him no chance to explain as you scrambled to your knees and cowered away against the tree. 

        "(Y/N) it's me. It's Daryl." He attempted his most soothing tone of voice. "C'mon, let me get ya cleaned up."        

        He outstretched his arm, offering you his  hand. Without making eye contact you made a move to take it, but you were stopped by the restricting force of the rope that kept you anchored to the tree trunk. He moved quickly for the knife he tossed to the side earlier and returned with it. Without the pressure of remaining silent, he had your hands free in seconds.

        He wasted no time helping you to your feet and averting his gaze as he slid your pants up where they belonged. He found he had a hard time keeping his mind straight and focused as your weeping filled the quiet campsite. 

        "Shh.." He cooed, keeping one hand on your upper back as he ushered you along with him to gather his things and yours. A smart man would have rummaged through the belongings of the ones he killed, too, but he wasn't concerned with making a smart call at that point. He was only worried about you.

        "It's alright. C'mon. Let's get ya somewhere you can rest. It's alright. C'mon." He felt useless as ever, repeating the same generic words of comfort as you limped along beside him. He never urged you to up the pace, he didn't drag you along or have you carry your own bag. He felt like the least he could do was shoulder the weight of survival on behalf of you both. He couldn't get the image out of his mind of ou laying there,caked in blood, sweat, and bruises. A girl like you should have been caked in perfume and makeup. You hair should have been done up nice for a Sunday brunch, not matted with leaves and dirt. Your clothes should have been pristine and well fitting, unlike the filthy torn clothes that were beginning to hang off your frame like tender meat falling from the bone. You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve any of it.

        Eventually he found an acceptable spot that looked like it could have been a den for a hibernating bear. It was a big shrub by a little stream, perfectly indented to give you both enough room to crouch under its foliage. He gently set you down, dropping his bow and your bags beside him. He crouched down in front of you and scanned you, worry written articulately over his features. 

        Your eyes remained glued to the ground. Your nose was upturned in disgust but your eyes told a different story; one of pain and despair and mourning for the person you were before that night. Your frown was deep enough to leave a scar. 

        "(Y/N)..." He breathed. Your eyes slowly found their way to his and welled with tears all over again. Of all things you had -- meaning, being alive and away from those men -- there was nothing you were more grateful for than his blue eyes staring back at you. You hated the way he looked at you with defeat and pity, though. You hated that he had one more thing to worry about. Still, he was there, and he was welcome. "Let's get ya cleaned up, okay?"

        You nodded once, if absentmindedly. Your thoughts were elsewhere. You couldn't pinpoint their location, though. They were scrambled, swarming all around you, like gnats you couldn't swat away.

        He pulled an old shirt from his bag and leaned over to the stream, getting it nice and wet before wringing it out. He turned back to you and brought it up to your cheek, gently dabbing and swiping away at the dirt, grime, sweat, and blood. He moved on to your neck and hands, then he paused. You both looked down at your jeans. You knew it needed to be taken care of, and he did too, but the question was really about which one of you would be brave enough to work on the gruesome scene between your legs.

        One look at your expression and he knew it couldn't be you. But, how could it be him? He couldn't put you in such a vulnerable position. No, not him.

        That's when the lightbulb went off over his head. The stream, of course.

        "Here." He offered you a hand. You took it slowly and he led you to your feet. "Wanna get in the water?" He asked. You stared down at the serene flowing water, trickling just before your feet. He cleared his throat. "I don't gotta look."

        You almost could have laughed. After everything that had happened, Daryl seeing you bathe wasn't really a concern. Still, you had to maintain some shred of dignity, and washing those men off of you was a much needed stride toward leaving that horrid night in your past. So, you nodded, and he turned away to start a fire where you could warm up after rinsing off.

        The button was busted off of your jeans. You guessed they couldn't waste their time with something as simple as undoing a button. You let out a shaky sigh and gritted your teeth. You moved to bend over and slide your jeans down, but a searing pain shot through your insides. You whimpered. "I can't." You barely managed.

        "Huh?" He asked over his shoulder.

        "I can't." You spoke up with a tremble. "I can't get them off. It hurts."

        His throat tightened up. Had they really been so cruel to you?

        "Ya want me to..." He trailed off.

        "Please." You whispered and shut your eyes. He stood beside you and pulled your pants down to your ankles, kneeling down as he did so.

        "Grab my shoulder." He instructed softly. You did. "Left leg." He said. You pulled it out. "Now the right." 

        With your jeans off, he stood up and looked down at your face, which you his from him, avoiding his gaze. 

        "Your -- Uh.." He glanced down at your underwear. You nodded, not needing to see what he meant. He followed the same process with those and turned away as soon as he was done. You cleared your throat. 

        "Can you help me sit?" You whispered. He sucked in a breath. It wasn't that you were annoying him. Anything but that, actually. He was glad to help you in any way you needed. It was the simple fact that you needed the help that was eating him alive. The thought that those guys could hurt you in this way, to this extent, was infuriating and heartbreaking. 

        He turned back to you and hovered behind you, placing a hand under each arm to support you while you lowered yourself down into the water. Once you were sitting on the creek bed, you adjusted yourself and sighed.

        "Just, uh, watch for snakes, okay?" Was all he could say before turning his attention back to the fire finally.

        Your frown deepened as you stared down at your bloodied thighs. A plop beside you startled you before realizing it was just the old shirt he was using to clean you up.

        "Figured ya might need it." He mumbled.

        You gripped the cloth in your hand and stared at it. Blood and filth stained it. Your lip quivered as you ran it over your inner thighs, scrubbing your own dried blood away and watching it disappear in the gentle current. You hissed and winced as you cleaned yourself where you were really injured. 

        When you were done, you peered over your shoulder, where Daryl stared at the small flame. He felt your eyes on him and he looked up at you. 

        "Need some clothes?" He asked.

        "Please." You replied. He nodded once and rummaged through your bag. He could only find a semi-clean shirt, but no more pants. He pulled his own bag forward and searched for the new two-pack of boxers he'd scavenged awhile back. 

        "I, uh, didn't see no more pants, but... You can have those." He said, holding your shirt and the fresh boxers out to you.

        "Thanks." You pressed your lips into a thin attempt at a friendly smile. 

        He turned away again so you could change your shirt, but you needed his help with the boxers, which he did without you needing to ask, and without a single peek at you.

        He helped you back over to the den where you could warm up by the fire. You kept the blanket in your bag, so he made sure to wrap it around your shoulders while you sat.

        "Ain't got no food." He broke the silence after a little while. You nodded.

        "Not hungry anyways." 

        "Mm." He hummed. "Get some sleep. I'll keep watch."

----

        By midday, you were on the move again, trailing right behind him as he stomped slowly over the underbrush so you could keep his pace. He'd stop every now and then, and though he didn't say it, you knew it was because he didn't want to overwork you. 

        By late afternoon, the sun was on the far end of the sky, casting an orange glow over the woods. 

        Daryl had barely been able to look at you, and you couldn't exactly claim any different. You two had taken a break again, sipping water and scanning around for any game or edible plants.

        "I want ya to know.." He cleared his throat, shattering the thick silence that glazed over you both all day. "I want ya to know I didn't see it. None of it."

        "I know you weren't looking." You deadpanned.

        "Nah, not at the stream. I meant -- I didn't see none of it." He clarified. He had a sneaking suspicion the reason you couldn't bare to look at him might have been the possibility of him seeing what had happened to you. He, however, just hated seeing you look so broken, knowing had he been more vigilant yesterday, none of those guys would have been able to sneak up on him. You looked at him finally.

        "I know. They hit you over the head 'cause you were fighting them."

        "Mm." He nodded. "I just... I need to tell ya I'm sorry." His voice cracked as he looked down at his hands and back up to you. His leg was bouncing anxiously and his gums must have bled from how hard he chewed at them.

        "Why?" You pushed your eyebrows together.

        "I shoulda been lookin' out. Shoulda protected ya. Shoulda--"

        "You were. You have been." You cut him off. "You've looked out for me every day since the prison. You've been protecting me since the quarry. You protect everyone. That wasn't your fault." You insisted. He just looked back down at his hands and sniffled, blinking back tears. He scolded himself for being the one to cry, when you were the one who got hurt. "Hey." You pressed on. "Listen to me. You got us out of there. You took care of them. You saved me. Then, you still took care of me. If we were still back there, they would have killed you and robbed you by now. And, if they hadn't killed me yet, I'd be wishing I was dead. I wouldn't be here without you. I would have never survived even before last night without you, and I wouldn't be sitting here telling you that today if it weren't for you."

        He looked you in the eyes as you spoke every word. It was a great relief to him that you weren't angry with him -- that you didn't blame him. Still, he felt so uneasy.

        "Can we camp here?" You asked suddenly. He shrugged.

        "Yeah. We can." He agreed. His voice was still broken.

        "Can I sit with you?" You asked. He looked confused but he still nodded, even if he was unsure what you meant.

        Ignoring the aches all over your body, you crawled over to him and sat in front of him, between his legs, leaning your back against his torso. He was stiff, unused to being so close to someone, but he didn't resist. As you settled in and got comfortable, he rested his arms by your sides.

        "You didn't fail me, Daryl. Nobody makes me feel safer."

Join the taglist || Masterlist

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Beginning at the quarry and heavily following the series

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, canonical character death, poorly written smut, masturbation, allusions to abortion, medical blood draw, vomiting, allusions to suicide, minor canonical character death, child injury, pregnancy complications [Will update warnings as we go]

A/N: The series will heavily follow the timeline and events of the show but there will be additional non-canonical events/injuries/etc.

Chapter Moodboards by @dannyo000: Pg 1, Pg 2

Summary: Daryl met you while hunting to feed the group he saddled himself with at the quarry. It was just sex, no strings attached. Until it wasn’t. Strangers to friends to lovers. A bit of slow burn and angst.

•Chapter 1

•Chapter 2

•Chapter 3

•Chapter 4

•Chapter 5

•Chapter 6

•Chapter 7

•Chapter 8

•Chapter 9

•Chapter 10

•Chapter 11

•Chapter 12

•Chapter 13

•Chapter 14

•Chapter 15

•Chapter 16

•Chapter 17

•Chapter 18

•Chapter 19

•Chapter 20

•Chapter 21

•Chapter 22

•Chapter 23

•Chapter 24

•Chapter 25

•Chapter 26

•Chapter 27……in progress

Gorgeous moodboard by the amazing @dustbunniess ❤️

730 DAYS | daryl dixon [coming soon]

“we protect our people. we’ll protect you–i’ll protect you.”

“don’t make promises you can’t keep, daryl dixon.”

summary: 2 years since you’ve been trapped with the saviors as one of negan’s many wives, and 2 weeks since you’ve made your escape into the world of the living dead, anticipating whatever fate awaits you; but when you meet unlikely hero, daryl dixon, he saves you and brings you to alexandria. it’s a paradise you’ve longed for, but how long will this freedom last until negan finds you?

pairings: daryl dixon x f!reader

warnings: smut, violence, blood and gore, sexual assault, mentions of noncon, use of deadly weapons, fluff, angst, murder, slow burn-ish, strong language, torture, decapitation, s6-11, 18+, minors dni.

author’s note: so i started watching twd again, which i haven’t watched in years but now that i’m a grown woman i’ve been feigning for daryl lmao, he’s so fine idcidcidc.

000

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ A Mess ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

About: Your husband wasted no time getting his dick wet after the world ended. When you catch your adulterous husband in the act, you find an unlikely companion in Daryl Dixon.

Pairing: Reader!Walsh x Daryl Dixon

Era: Quarry -> Pre-Alexandria/Post-Terminus

Genre/Vibe: TWD typical things, Drama, Romance, Eventual Smut, Survival, Apocalyptic/Dystopian

Warnings: TWD typical violence, spoilers, character deaths, profanity, eventual smut, attempted SA, loss, grief

18+ MDNI

Parts: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten

'•.¸♡ Teasers ♡¸.•'

╰┈➤        "I'm confused." Andrea spoke up. 

        "Oh, allow me to clarify." You smiled, sickeningly sweet. Lori shook her head at you, but you ignored her. "Shane, my husband, and Lori, have been keeping a secret from us. Care to share with the class?"

        "(Y/N), man, come on. Why you gotta start problems?" Shane let out an exasperated sigh.

        "No? Okay, allow me to speak on your behalf, then. My husband has been fucking Lori, who, if you guys weren't aware, is married to Shane's best friend, who he claims is dead." You said.

»»-------------------►

╰┈➤        "I don't ever wanna catch you near her. Ya hear me? You so much as breathe too heavy in her direction and I'll fuckin' kill you. Ya got that?" Daryl got closer and closer to Shane's face with every word. When Shane didn't answer him; "I said do ya fuckin' understand the words that are comin' outta my mouth?"

»»-------------------►

╰┈➤       "You don't have to watch over me. I can take care of my own shit." You assured him.

        "I know." He said. You felt something warm wrap around your hand. You looked down and it was his own hand, laid over yours, fingers cupping under your palm lazily. 

        "What are you doing?" You asked, looking over your shoulder to him.

        "Dunno. Keep singin'." 

»»-------------------►

╰┈➤        "Here, let me show you." You whispered. You reached up for his face, his hands sliding softly off of your arms. When your palms found his checks,you tippy-toed up a couple of inches, and slowly leaned in, placing your lips softly on his. It wasn't a long, rhythmic kind of kiss. It was just simple and soft, and it lasted just a few seconds longer than a quick peck-and-go.

»»-------------------►

╰┈➤ He massaged you on the inside without ever losing his pace with his tongue. By this point you weren't even moaning anymore, you were blatantly whining. It was almost torture -- it felt so good. The pressure was just enough to keep you on edge, to build up that feeling in your stomach that spread all over, but not quite enough to get you there, not yet. He slipped another finger inside. Your lower half started buzzing, legs trembling as your hips jerked and twitched. You were getting so close.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ⇘A Mess-Volume 2⇙ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

About: A 5 part sequel to A Mess with lots of sex and drama and cute moments. The goal is closure and a happy ending so I hope you’ll all enjoy! It’s written over the course of the final seasons of TWD. So, Savior arc -> the very end!

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader (Ex Reader!Walsh)

Era: Alexandria Pre-Saviors -> Post Whisperers

Genre/Vibe: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Happy Ending

Warnings: lots of smut, profanity, TWD typical things, spoilers

cover art by the amazing @dixons-sunshine ! Please check out this lovely person’s blog!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ Teasers ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

╰┈➤        “Must’ve needed that.” He smirked. “That attitude o’ yours was gettin’ kinda old.”

╰┈➤        “The hell’s goin’ on in here?” Daryl called into the disarray that was once his home. 

        “Daryl!” You gasped, skipping over to him and jumping into his arms. With his attempted killer preoccupied and another witness to his potential demise in the room, Eugene finally felt safe enough to stand up, both hands still hugging the Jack Daniels tightly to his chest. 

        Daryl tilted his head at Eugene as you dangled from around his neck. 

        “I — She’s crazy.” Was all Eugene managed to say.

╰┈➤       “I just—“ He took a breath to collect his thoughts. “She don’t know about none of it, ya know? I just.. I don’t look at her and see somebody I let down.”

        “Is that what you see when you look at me?”

        “No.” He shook his head. His gums were raw from how hard he’d been chewing at them. “I see somebody I’m afraid o’ lettin’ down.”

╰┈➤       “Wasn’t what?” You snapped, turning to face him, eyes blazing. “Wasn’t what it looked like? Yeah, right. Heard that one before.”

        Your body was trembling with rage. Considering the events that led to your relationship with him in the first place, you were infuriated that he’d be doing the same thing to you as your sleaze bag ex.

Part 1 - here

Part 2 - here

Part 3 - here

Part 4 - here

Part 5 - Coming Soon

Haven’t read the original series? Find all 10 parts on the masterlist! (Banner credits also linked on the masterlist!)

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix

Till THE DEAD do us part Masterlist

A/N: This story will take place in all the seasons, but it’s not exactly a rewriting cause I’d have to re-watch everything to use the exactly lines of the characters, also I think it’s better if I tell a side story without changing the main facts of the story. I’m not good with synopses, so sorry about that.

This story has a Female Reader, but I don’t describe her appearance, so anyone can identify with her.

Summary: Y/N Grimes is Rick’s younger sister, when the world ended she had Lori, Carl and Shane. But did she really have them? Her brother was dead, her sister-in-law was sleeping with her brother’s best friend and her nephew was just a small kid. She had him, Daryl Dixon was no knight in a shining armor and she was no damsel in distress, but maybe they were exactly what each other needed.

Warnings: swearing, death, violence , blood, injuries, sex, smut. Minors do not interact. 18+ (with the time I’ll add more to the list).

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader

Chapters

Smut - 🥵

Chapter 1: Vulnerable ~ Moodboard Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Anything that reminds you of me ~ Moodboard Chapter 2

Chapter 3: I’m sorry and Thank you ~ Moodboard Chapter 3

Chapter 4: Pinky Promise ~ Moodboard Chapter 4

Chapter 5: We’re all gonna die ~ Moodboard Chapter 5

Chapter 6: Are ya blind? ~ Moodboard Chapter 6

Chapter 7: Chupacabra ~ Moodboard Chapter 7

Chapter 8: Because it’s you

Chapter 9: I ain’t yer bitch, Grimes

Chapter 10: I’d carry it proudly 🥵

Chapter 11: I ain’t playin’

Chapter 12: You already have me 🥵

Chapter 13: This group’s broken

Chapter 14: We’ll not lose each other

Chapter 15: We’re definitely Lucky

Chapter 16: Ya know I hate lies, don’t ya?

Chapter 17: Of Kisses and Chapsticks

Chapter 18: I ain’t sleeping with Hershel

Chapter 19: After all this time?

Chapter 20: Feeling better D.?

Dividers of the chapters by @cafekitsune , for now it’s only on Chapter 17, but I’m thinking about going back and using in the olds too.

THE SCARS WE SHARE | daryl dixon

❝i looked for you…at the start. why’d you leave without saying goodbye?❞

summary: you were the only good thing daryl had in his life. bonded by similar trauma, you suffered abuse at the hands of your stepmother, just as daryl had suffered from his own father. when you finally decide to escape your abusive home life, you’re forced to leave behind your best friend in the process. now with the world in an apocalyptic state, you’re left wondering if daryl was even alive.

pairings: daryl dixon x f!reader.

warnings: smut, violence, blood and gore, unrequited love, best friends to lovers, mentions of s/a, mentions of abuse, use of deadly weapons, fluff, angst, slow burn-ish, strong language, kidnapping, coercion, seasons 5-11, 18+, minors dni.

playlist: already gone - kelly clarkson | hanging on - emilee moore | through the trees - low shoulder | skin - zola jesus | home to you - fka twigs | words - skylar grey | two is better than one - boys like girls | back to december - taylor swift | how to save a life - the fray | for the love of a daughter - demi lovato | confessions of a broken heart (daughter to father) - lindsay lohan.

©darylmydix. please do not repost.

000 | 001 | 002

Pissin' Our Pants Yet?- Chapter 3: The road

💕Pairing: Negan x Female Reader 

✏️Genre/au: Canon, Action, Smut, Sci-fi, The Walking Dead Fic

✏️Rating: PG 18+, explicit

📝Wordcount:

⚠️chapter warnings: Shitloads of cursing, Gore details (zombies), Mentions of cults, mentions of cult practices, dictatorship status

<<< 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 2 | 𝕸𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 4 >>>

Hii! Did you stumble across this work? Glad you're here 😊 Please, let me know your thoughts once you are finished. Feedback keeps me motivated to write 😁

Note that English is not my first language, so please if you find grammar mistakes, let me know. :)

My gratitude goes to @alldevilsarehere90 for her hard work on beta reading this huge chapters🧡

Scavenging with any group that leaves Sanctuary, occupies most of your days. What's outside is your world, where you know how to move, how to play. It's almost like you are trying to avoid reality, the view of what's going on in the lower floors of the building. Turning a blind eye to the Saviours' abuse towards people is the only way you could do so. Not being there. Still, it’s like it haunts you, seeing from the corner of an eye, how it gets perpetrated.

Negan has to agree with it when it's so common. There's no way he doesn't see or know, the Saviours' use of physical punishment to afront any sort of confrontation and the constant abuse of power when it comes to belongings. Your thoughts and actions twist to centre on winning him; the big bad wolf's trust. Without that, there's nothing you can do for these people or his wives. 

Most of your productive working time is around him as if he wants to be glued to you. He will ask your opinion on random things, sometimes important decisions that require some knowledge. It reminds you of when you were your mum's right hand and she would let you make decisions to evaluate your qualities as a possible successor. In his own words: he values your opinion as much as Simon's or any of the other high ranks, admitting it comes from your stay outside by yourself. He says it blows his mind that you've managed to survive on your own, remarking it has nothing to do with you being a woman.

It surprises him so much he asks more than once if it was, in fact,  six months because that's a lot of time to be on your own. The first time, you talked about the scars on your body, where they came from, and who or what caused them. Although you told him there were a few you couldn’t recall. You knew there was one he hadn't seen and that's the only one you avoid talking about.

The second time, it was more like asking for a reminder and when he asked about your group, you just didn't feel good talking about it. Surprisingly, he didn't push it further.

In the beginning, you thought his appreciation excluding your pretty face was touching, since he had been flirting with you from the moment he set eyes on you. At some point, you even expected him to be trying to push you into marrying him like he's done with his golden-caged birds. But on second thought, you figured out he's interested in understanding how your mind functions, for easier control since you have nothing to lose. It wasn’t a surprise but the idea still bothers you.

Inside the Sanctuary you feel the breath in the air coming from that many people living together. Different mindsets cluttered in the same space like a bee's nest, just less alike because the ones protecting the working bees are also their bullies. 

Being with people after such a long time alone doesn't seem to be your forté but being alone again is too fucked up to consider it an option. The world has become a deadly dangerous place with all those non-dead walking around and trying to take a chunk out of you. Although the survivors can be even worse. 

Here the rules matter, which seems to be engraved with fire in these people's minds. Negan keeps people alive in a system that's tough but works. Kind of. It reminds you of those documentaries you used to watch on TV about modern slavery in various countries, that made it sound too far to even suggest it could happen in yours. But here you are, observant of those images in the very place you live, just a few feet from you. 

Leaving that aside, you can admit freely that it has been partly luck that's kept you alive. Like it is with anyone else because anything can kill you these days. That, along with your ability to avoid people, if you're honest, is probably a big part of the equation. 

You'd say your aiming is your best quality and it's probably the best skill one needs to protect itself and hunt with or without guns. You are also very fast but when it comes to the rest of your skills, you'd say you are just about average. Incomparable to your mum who was awesome in everything she did. 

You tried to learn everything you could from her but she was exceptional. Losing her and your brother at the same time, destabilized your whole world and vision of it. That was partially why you left your group and wandered around aimlessly. You couldn't see things so clearly anymore, the mourning blinding your best judgement and decision-making. The memories of the days after their death are still confusing to this day.  

When you found yourself lonely and realized that was going to be the rest of your life, some sort of mad need for socialization took over you but boy, the things you saw on the road. Soon you understood it wasn't safe anymore to "apply" for another group's membership. But then you had to make peace somehow with your new reality. Going back to your group just wasn't an option because you didn't find them where they were supposed to be. They had probably waited long enough and thought you weren't going to come back or that you were the one dead already. 

That was until the mall happened. 

It did not seem a bad option after taking your security measures. You even unblocked the back doors as a safe passage if another group crossed you. But you trusted too much in your luck going to the first floor. In big places, the rules were to enter, pick up the goods as fast as you could and leave. At least, while being alone. 

Now, even with a short group of four, you feel kind of safe. Well, it's almost completely safe. Becoming a Saviour does affect one's ego, how could it not, when it makes people feel like they are on top of the world. Invincible. As if the walkers were just a minor problem, a day after day thing but even with that sensation building up in one's chest, nobody puts their guard down. That would be really stupid.

"Do Saviours get bit often?" You ask John, one of the guys in your group. Even if his name is also your brother's, they are nothing alike.

"Nah... It doesn't happen a lot. You worried?" he asks you, without stopping what he is doing. You mutter a simple, "Not really," and he smirks.

Your group is out of the safe zone, looking for supplies or anything interesting that could be of use. Maybe a well-positioned building for another outpost or another group to discipline for Negan. He did not want you on the search parties for the "problematic community" that had been running for the last week and a half. "New arrivals don't get those privileges, pretty face," he said to you in front of your group of newcomers, when you asked. 

You think that at least you are not the only fresh blood in the nest. Having all eyes set on you, people expecting things, good or bad, maybe both, sucks. 

In fact, even if the other Saviours found them and there was a plan going on, your group was not on the first line or in it at all that matters. You were told that almost every Saviour was going to be at the "final show" but Negan still didn't trust you enough to put you in certain positions outside. 

'Dude, get over it, get that stick out your ass. The flamethrower thing was a mistake!' you thought when Negan said: "You will stick to the basics until I know for sure you won't do the shot to send people running for the hills".

It all becomes routine, or sort of, as new days go by. You wake up before the clock in the mornings and take a shower in the commons, chit-chatting with Arat and Norma as you brush your teeth. There are other women around but these two are kind of the ones with whom you get along better. 

One morning, Arat praised your work and said you'll go up quickly if you keep working hard and giving useful input. One of the girls in the showers jokes about it being easier when you bend on your knees privately for Negan, a few laughs follow the statement, to which you spit out the toothpaste and calmly leave your toothbrush on the counter. Walking towards the shower, you hear Arat mutter an "oh-uh" although she doesn't stop you. Opening the curtain of who you know has said it, you grab her by the hair and bang her head against the wall, breaking her nose, then watching as she slides down the wall, moaning in pain. 

"For people like you, men treat women like shit," you say before spitting on her, then Arat makes her presence known beside you by putting a hand on your shoulder to turn you around. 

"She's learned her lesson," she mutters. "You won't say a word about this. Keep your mouth shut next time you feel like offending another woman for being better than you," she tells the one bleeding.

"I wasn't going to hit her again." You don't even feel right about it. You've just lost your temper too easily for your liking. Leaving aside the fact her type of attitude is the kind you despise. 'Sometimes people need to learn the hard way' you tell yourself unconvincingly. 

The incident did not leave that bathroom, although there were a lot of witnesses.

At lunchtime, you sit with Arat to eat some sort of spaghetti bolognese with meatballs in her apartment with Norma and Donna, another Saviour who is seemingly in some kind of relationship with Arat, when a knock on the door calls your attention. A low-ranking Saviour, just like you, opens it when given permission and informs them they have the Alexandrians under their radar. Negan is claiming Arat for planning and the three of you are left to eat alone. 

That same afternoon, while you are looking at the maps in your room memorizing the future attack, Negan's plan over the Alexandrians starts to roll because a bunch of them are leaving the community in an RV. It's an ambush, prepared like any other but it has coincided with someone running off from Sanctuary and a search party already there. The outposts near were fast to move and play their part, following the previous preparations. 

The plan is divided into phases. First step: you all had to wait until one of the lookouts that are surrounding Alexandria gave the intel on a number leaving the fortress. Second step: block the roads and get them to surrender. This part is already done.

There are two options after that: One; they will come out, in which case someone will have to bring their leader or you will go find him or her and put them all in their place. Someone has to die, "unavoidably" according to Negan, to prove the point that no one messes with him and his Saviours. He also added that he's being magnanimous as people didn't really know who they were messing with, so he isn't going to just take an eye for an eye. But once the rules are settled, there will be no place for mistakes. 

At this point, you are sure that isn't a subject of discussion and nobody has played the devil's advocate. You won't because you can easily understand why he's going to do that. Protecting his people first, saving people later, as it has to be. 

And option Two; they won't surrender, which would lead them to the same end but with Negan going harder on them. 

The plan is set and turns out you are indeed a part of it. Not all the Saviours are going to have the "privilege", as he pointed out, but you are, even though he originally said you wouldn't. And you are one hundred per cent sure it's to prove to you that no one can go against Negan's will. You hear a knock on your door and he enters after your "Come in".

"So, you've really been diving into your work here, huh?" he says, closing the door with a grin. "I have no problem with that, but I gotta say… Not being able to find you after your shifts…After what happened between us...Man, I would say, you are avoiding me. Not cool." he says practically into your ear, with his breath raising goosebumps on your neck.

"Guilty as charged," you admit. You have been, indeed, trying to avoid being left alone with him. You thank all the gods of the world for his discretion on the subject as you would probably slap him.

He had shown you the skilled lover he was, over and over, until you were spent under him, with both your bodies covered in sweat. Needless to say, you were impressed. 

As pleasure subsided, you were able to find your brain again and once he groaned on top of you and let his body fall to the side, something else surprised you. When he lay next to you in the tiny bed and pulled you to him, cuddling you against his chest. 

You fell asleep for a few minutes while twirling softly on the hairs of his chest, as he drew circles on the leg resting across his hips. When you woke up he was still there, his caress, tickling you awake. After kissing you softly, almost sweetly, he finally stood to get dressed and left with a courtesy, stating that management wasn't going to sort itself out.

After he left, you stood regardless of your naked form, to open the windows and refresh the air in the room, it came in fast and cold and although you welcomed it, you felt the iciness in your soul too. 

Did you let your attraction for him cross lines for what Sherry said, maybe out of fear? You weren't sure how you felt about him. Somewhere between attracted and concerned, and that wasn't exactly a good thing. The way he treated people was absolutely not your cup of tea. He is the kind of guy you would usually hate to be around.

Were you just having fun? Or were you expecting something to come out of it? This was something that was leading you to a dead end and you felt the need to run away like you always did when it came to men, sex, love and its relatives. Giving him what he wanted could keep away the idea of making you a caged bird from entering his head but it would take off the importance of whatever you did in the Saviours. Everybody would just see that you were giving it a try with the big bad wolf. 

It's all put in a delicate balance and you know it will fall apart. 

"This is not a good idea, Negan." you voice out.

"What in the holy hell are you talking about?" you've almost forgotten that you are facing the maps displayed on the wall.

"Everything," he raises a brow not believing what he is hearing. "This plan. You and me. Everything is fucked up, Negan. I'm not gonna be your lover and that's what I would be as I'm clearly not your wife." you say in a soft tone, just talking calmly. He opens his mouth but you cut him off before he says a word. "I have no interest in becoming one. I'm a woman of action. I have a clue why everybody follows your ass but I'm not falling in line in all ways. No. My life stays mine and I'm not even sorry for that." you had the intention to say it all calmly but at the end, you hear the heated tone in your words. It seems to happen too often lately, you are tense and restless. As if you were the one doing something wrong. "I do my fucking job, follow the rules and I'm a fucking damn loyal bastard to you because that's how I am. But I'm not going to let your--our." you can't put all the blame on him, "attraction, reduce my qualities as your new bed-warmer. I'm a fucking valid person for a bunch of reasons. I hope you can understand that." you say as you turn around slowly, having felt him cut the distance and his warmth behind you, expecting that sour feared face you've seen more than a couple of times, since being at the sanctuary. Surprisingly, there's a toothy grin with a furrowed brow, something you read as amusement.

"Wow. Yeah, I do! Don't cha worry darlin' we can keep this fuckin' hot thing going on between us as our little secret. That's no fuckin' problem for me." he speaks in a low whispery tone above your nose, meeting your eyes. "But no, you, like everybody else here, are mine," he says, brushing off the importance of the subject and yet putting emphasis on the possessive statement. You can't believe he said it just like that as if people were play-things and nothing more but decide that you will touch that subject at another point. "But what the fuck do you mean that you don't agree with the plan…" he says, having a mood swing like he usually does. That is a good quality for making people fear your reaction but you are way too built up to shut your mouth. Maybe because of his reference to you being his. 

"I think the way you're doing some things will backfire at us, the Saviours, right in the ass, Negan."  his demeanour turns dominant and stern, stormy eyes subject to objectification. "When you push people too hard, especially the ones that do what they've done to our people, they tend to unite and fight back till their last breath. You act as if people are belongings that don't know right from wrong-"

"I beg your pardon," he interrupts. At this precise moment, you know, you've fucked up. "Are you actually questioning me?" he gives you the look, the one that makes the toughest man look at their feet. You included. "Who are you?"

"Negan," you say, raising your head to meet his eyes again, obedient like a puppy. Experience has shown you that keeping your mouth shut, especially when you have not, is the best way to survive. You will do whatever you want because your life is yours, no matter what he says, you won't let others decide for you but sometimes, the best way to get away with what you want, or just simply get away from a difficult situation, is to make others believe that you agree with what they want. When people think that you're submissive they don't expect you to take opposite decisions from what they would want you to do.

"Then you will want what's best for you. Isn’t that right?" he says, still serious and raw. There is no possible objection to that statement. 

 "Yes, Negan," you give him the puppy eyes, so he smiles at you.

"I think we should take a ride. Just for the pleasure of it," You get scared for a second, he starts to take leave without waiting for your answer but stops. "That was a suggestion, by the way. Unless you're scared of being alone with me, darlin'." 

"Is this a date?" you ask him with an edge of sarcasm inside your words, relaxing as he does seem to have genuine intentions.

"Yeah." he gives you in a low breathy tone, like a whisper, while wrinkling his nose and showing his teeth, then bites his lower lip seductively. You chuckle.

"I think I might pass," you reply, putting on a poker face and he raises his eyebrows surprised. "Just kidding, let's get out of here, salt and pepper," he chuckles at the pet name. "I drive…" you say while you take the leave in front of him.

"No way I'm letting you drive my car!" he chuckles but you stop to look at him, brows arched.

"I swear to God, Negan, if you pull up that shit that a girl can't drive-" you are not even joking, it pisses you off. Men and women can work out the same things, it all depends on each individual's qualities, not the gender.

"Hey! Calm your tits down. Nobody swings Lucille, nobody drives my car, it’s as simple as that. Now, if you want to drive, you will have to find yourself a machine that works. My car, it's just mine," he says arching a brow in a way to say 'I don't want to have to repeat myself'.

"Got it," you say and start your walk to get to the garage. You jumping inside Negan's car raises some eyebrows but suddenly you don't care. 

You haven't noticed how much time you've spent in your room looking at those maps until a Saviour opens the garage door to let Negan's car out of the building, the sun already heading west, its light less intense, the temperature less hot. Perfect timing.

Out of the safe area, as it's circled on the maps, your head rests over your arm on the window breathing the fresh air as you close your eyes. The trip was definitely needed, for a second it's like this isn't the end of the world at all. Just two people on a date. Like when your worst problems, from a first world person where to pay your bills and maybe what to do on Saturday night. Now, all that seems so stupid, such nonsense. 

The car runs as smooth as new and you guess there's a mechanic at home. 'So cool. I should probably investigate the building more, I've been too busy working and hiding to know all that's offered.'

"So. Where do you want us to go, sweetheart?" you hear in the background, too taken by the moment. "Earth to Alice. Where are you, dollface?" he asks, almost with a genuine look.

"I'm right here, babe," you say, doing an impression of him.

"Are you trying to be cool?" he asks with a chuckle.

"I am already, pops" You turn on the music on his player. "I think that we should ride to a place that we don't know, to a place where no one has seen us before" sounds filling the vehicle, surprisingly, being that this is his car. "I'm thinking you and I better just go with the flow. The last thing that we should do is go slow..." you sing along, forgetting for a second he's asked you a question. He looks at you, raising an eyebrow, and then, looking at the front he accelerates. "A really adequate song, right? I didn't expect you to hear this kind of music."

"Arat said you might like it," he says with a smirk. 

"Wait. This was planned," you say matter-of-fact, changing your position on the seat to look at him directly. He smiles, looking at you. 'Of course, it is, he could not just leave like that for the sake of it. He's the leader, for Christ's sake.' you conclude. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see." That's the last thing he says on the road.

He stops the car in the middle of a set of crops that has gone wild, the golden plants tickling in your fingers as you walk around enjoying the view. There is a forest a few yards away at the left, close enough for you to see a squirrel jumping up a tree. 'That would have been dinner… this is her lucky day.' 

"What is this place, planning on building a farm for retirement?" you ask, struggling to understand why he chose this place to travel to. It's beautiful, you have to admit it, the view extends for miles, so much that you can't see the details at the end of it.

"Don't be impatient. You'll see it pretty soon." He leans on the car and takes a packet of cigarettes from the side pocket of his leather jacket. He takes one and turns it. "A smoke?" he leaves the filter of a cigarette showing for you to take it, as an offer.

"No, thanks. Never did, I have no intention to start now that I need my lungs to run," The smile coming to that statement confirms he already knew it. You lean on the car close to him, you know he does not smoke that often for the smell of his skin and his breath. "What are we looking at?"

"Damn, woman! Patience…" he says, his pretty smile holding the cigarette with the side of his lips. You fake a pucker followed by a naughty smile that makes him snort and roll his eyes in amusement.

Closing your eyes when the soft breeze warmed up by a sunny day hits your face. You keep them closed enjoying the moment trying to engrave this memory in your mind to hold onto when things go wrong. For the future, if there is any. The warmth against your face, the smell of the trees, the plants that are tickling your legs over the trousers... and Negan, like a second sun to this earth, giving life, taking it, volcanic, warm, symbolic… 

In other circumstances you two would probably never have crossed. He was from somewhere else, he sure had a wife or at least a girlfriend, there is no way he was alone. None of his actual wives were with him before Sanctuary so maybe he lost her on his way through surviving. The world had always been like this: one day you had someone but you could lose it the next; an accident, a murder, a disease… people were always fragile, even if they felt invincible. What went down, only accentuated that fact. It showed the truth within, what was held in the shadows, the taboos. At least in most people. In others, it surfaced the feel of the community, the need to survive together, and the strength of grouping up. 

You think you are somewhere in the middle, far from perfection. You are inclined to protect the weak. Good, noble while others are good to you.  Savage, wild, fearless… cruel if there's someone evil, despicable. Negan stirs your darkness with some acts as much as he stirs the light inside you. It's a balance that can easily be consumed by the darkness. Everything points to it. Your mentality with the time has grown patient and yet, you live in the moment. 

This is a beautiful moment to live in, so you live it. 

You hear the sound of his breath exhaling the smoke of his slowly consumed cigarette, enjoying it. With that mundane action and your previous knowledge of him, you notice that, despite his attitude of walking on air, he still makes the most of everything he does. You've seen him do that with the wrong stuff that has you on edge but you realize, it's not that he's a bad person, it's just him doing what you are; living the moment and owning his shit with no regrets. 'Maybe we are not so different after all.'

A new breeze brings his scent to you, now mixed with the nicotine but still his. You memorize it; the touch of his body on your side is warm and makes you feel less lonely, even if it’s unreal. 'We are born alone and we die alone,' has been your mantra. You notice that you have been starting to feel the excitement you normally do when you're around someone you have a crush on. Knowing if you let it continue like that, even if it’s just for a second, it will surely become a car crash for you. As much as he is the sun and you can need him, you might get burned if you have too much. 

You were never emotionally attached to the boys you slept with or if you ever did you killed it as soon as it appeared, leaving some heartaches in your past, or maybe not, you always ignored it. What you don't know won't hurt you. 'This can't be different' you tell yourself.

You open your eyes when he clears his throat, without knowing how much time you have had them closed. His gaze is on you but your eyes are focused solely on the horizon where the sunset, one of the most beautiful ones you've ever seen, starts to turn the sky into a spectacle of colors. As if the sun itself has set the clouds on fire above you. You feel as if the tears confined inside you are going to spill rivers on your cheeks, moved by the most beautiful thing you have seen in a long, long time. 

Watching the sunset was a thing you used to do with someone very special -before ice covered your heart-, it was in those moments that you stayed silent and the world seemed to be only for the two of you. The rest of the world disappears, making all the noises muffled as if you were deaf and the only thing that mattered was the sky burning. 

Life has become so painful since then and no one you've ever cared about can enjoy this anymore, they can't see any of this anymore. You feel the knot in your throat and you start to freak out. No crying in front of others. Never.

"You know how to get a lady into your bed…" you say cheekily trying to avoid him thinking you are into sentimental stuff, not that you are these days. He smiles almost sadly, he has his eyes lost in the sky, melancholic. 'You two are not that different. He's lost someone too. Who is he thinking about?' 

"What can I say? I'm a gentleman," he says, in a flirty tone, taking another whiff of smoke to his lungs. That’s when you notice he's taken the chance to put his arm around your waist, while you are lost in the view and he uses it to get you near him. The hand starts moving lower and with it, a naughty smile appears on his face.

"That hand has dishonest intentions, gentleman," you say rolling your eyes and in a quick move he puts you up on the bonnet of the car. You give him room to slide his body between your thighs. "Oh! Your body acts like a hooker." He laughs at that. He's so warm, so sexy. You escape the kiss he wants to give you, to go to his neck, smelling him while you give him soft bites on his hot skin. It drives you crazy. You let your back fall against the metal and you cover your eyes with the back of your hand.

"Jesus, if you ain't a vision.." he mutters in a little husky tone. You exhale, hearing a chuckle and one of his thumbs caressing your lower lip. Your arms slide above your head as he leans forward on top of you with eyes that show the desire burning inside of him just like the sunset that you have just seen. You want him to show you. Closing your ankles behind him and your arms on his neck, you pull him against your body. When his mouth finds yours,  his lips capturing yours, it's as if time stops. The way his lips press and move against yours, his tongue moving slowly just at the entrance of your mouth, makes you light-headed. Your body itches for more, absorbed by the feeling of him. His lips move down to your chin, then neck, an expert hand pulling your hips against his with a single move. Pressing his erection against your core, your breath catches, and your lungs almost fail to work.

In a fast move, he unties your belt and takes off your trousers, faster than you've ever seen a man capable of. 'He must have had a lot of practice,’ you guess. He puts a hand on your waist pulling you towards him again as his parted lips meet yours. Then with just one hand he unties his belt and zips down his trousers. The hand over your waist trails down to your pelvis sneaking inside your panties, fingers testing the waters to make sure you are ready for what comes next. You are. 

He pulls his trousers down slightly to make room for his member to make an appearance and simply slides your panties to the side. A word crosses your head 'Condom' and as if he can read your mind, he takes something from his wallet, and puts it within his lips, his teeth helping to break the package. With a fast movement of both hands, he has it on.

"So you were ready, huh?" you suggest, under his complete control. He's making you dance his waltz. 'But damn if it ain't the hottest one.' At this very moment, it doesn't matter who holds the power. He nods with raised brows and a smirk.

He smiles as his tip finds your slit, moving slowly up and down to coat up your entrance for him. His slide-in fills you comfortably in three swift motions, the craving for him growing as he stills inside you, observing your expression. He clearly finds something he likes, because he starts to move increasingly at each moan his hard rock elicits from you and you love the little growls and grunts that your constricting walls rip out of him. 

You raise your upper body to let your lips meet, your initial tenderness is soon followed by a soft bite and pull of his lower lip, increasing the sounds of flesh meeting flesh as that little touch of sin motivates him. Your lips run over his neck and a bite finds his jaw, making him grunt as both his hands press his hips against yours. Your walls tense as you edge closer to your orgasm. Suddenly the static of the radio on the dashboard distracts you from reaching the sky, although Negan does not cease until he hears the words. 

"Negan, we have them." Negan's face turns towards the car, his passionate expression now gone and something different in his eyes, something dark, something that sends shivers through your spine as he pulls away. The shadow of a premonition that something bad is about to happen. 

A quiet moment extends as Negan climbs off of you, his brown orbs lighting a little when his eyes meet yours again, making you relax slightly. He tidies himself before zipping up his pants to go and pick up the radio. The mood he displays as he answers contrasts completely with what you've seen and felt exuding from him only seconds before. With the radio in his right hand, the other one finds your waist and he kisses your forehead. 

"I'm sorry, babe," Negan says in a low apologetic tone. "We will pick this up where we leave it after this shit's sorted." Right after his words, he kisses your neck, giving closure to the moment with a deep kiss, pressing his body against yours. His own needs unsatisfied, he sighs after the kiss in annoyance. You just nod and give him an understanding smile. 'He is a charming bastard. He had you under him the day after picking you up. God damn you if you fall in love with him… This is just fun for him. He already has the rest: housewife, paramour. Six times.'

Telling yourself you'll manage the feelings as you've always done, you decide he is convenient for survival, sex is just that; sex. He's the hottest man you've seen in years, counting before all of this, the chemistry unavoidably obvious and you need to feel it, you need to live it. As well as being a dangerous man to go playing around with feelings that can tear your life apart if something goes wrong. 'Mistakes with men like him are paid with blood and tears.'

Negan speeds up on the empty road, you feel the smooth roar of the car as it settles at seventy miles per hour. There is no other authority than him now, so, who will tell him not to? You would, if you didn't find it amusing.

As much as you don't agree with the kidnapping, killing, humiliating and basically robbing of other communities' supplies, you understand the plan that will go on tonight. Besides your late protest about how Negan pushes people to their limits, you get why this is happening, and why he says he is being magnanimous with this group. Indeed, if someone killed that many numbers, even just killing one of the people you cared about, you would want hell to fall upon those offenders. 

Looking at the plan from an objective and subjective point of view, it is epic. The number of members participating, cutting roads, redirecting them to the hot spot… it's by far intimidating. Negan has power and many subjects to follow his orders, whatever he wants to do, gets done, and that's quite bone-chilling. His domains extend day by day and those who say one day everything might belong to him are not far from the truth. He is a warlord bending over every community on his path but the little thing that seems to escape his comprehension is the limits between showing power and humiliation. That will backfire on him some day no matter how many people stand at his back. He's not a God, he's just a human, bone and flesh that can bleed and die. 

For some reason, that worries you. It's not just that the myth that holds together the Sanctuary, would die, leaving the civilians to some merciless Saviours, it's unsure if Negan's not there his lieutenants will keep his rules and guidelines. There's something else. You've been around him enough hours a day, received enough praise for your mind or good choices, seen enough sneers and chuckles, enough reward and punishment for the guy to grow on you. Thankfully not romantically but in an appreciative manner. Maybe some weird admiration.

He's built something from scratch, kept people alive, and created a system and rules to keep people safe. Everything that so many other communities have struggled with, even when things were easier, he's kept it tight and together. That, at least earns him some respect from you. The primal instincts he awakes in you are just a that’s a whole new ballgame.

When you arrive, the sun has fully disappeared leaving its place to the stars and the moon. His men are following the plan down to the last inch, you can only see the cars parked and the mentioned RV in the middle of the clearing. A mulled-haired guy, beaten up, stays on his knees with a Saviour at his back pointing a rifle at him, to the touch of the artificial light. Simon's been radioing in with every detail he could get his paws on, so you know this one's the driver and the others are moving on foot inside the forest. You are just too many for them to stand a chance and you wouldn't like to be in their place. 

Simon notices you getting out of the car along with Negan, and smiles, although you are sure he did not see Negan kissing your temple before that. You guess he’s just figured it out,  Negan hasn’t gone mouthy on the subject before you talked with him previously. Simon is his right-hand man and you guess he's confident too, to occupy such position. Even with that, it pisses you off that he knows what you've been doing as if it was his business, wanting to erase that mustache-smile off his face. 

Negan, being the leader, walks in front of you, looking at the stuff the Saviours have found on the trailer, displayed on the trunk of a car for Negan to see. As he goes to inspect the goods you stay behind, leaning on the same car as Simon. "I dare you to smile like that again and see what happens…" flows through your lips, giving him a side-eye, without giving a chance for his response you move closer to Negan. The smile on your lips is hidden by the dim illumination from Simon's sudden wide eyes, although at this very second you can feel him burning holes on your back.     

"They are like little mice running directly to the cat's mouth. And. I. Am! The big-sized cat!" says Negan with his characteristic toothy smile, getting your attention and Simons' too. "I almost feel pity for them!" he adds with a burst of laughter that ends in a high-pitched squeak of his breathing, like he always does when he finds something very funny. Simon and the Saviours present, laugh back. You can tell that there is something off in him, you just cannot tell what it is. 'Surely you are not that obedient, right, Simon? Maybe you are hiding something,' you think for yourself. Not even a smile appears on your face, knowing someone is going to die tonight. You might understand why it's going to be done, you might even agree with it, but enjoyment is far from what you feel about it. Negan looks at you with an arched brow, his smile fades just a little before he adds. "Let's get down to business, shall we? Alice, come 'ere." And you obey. "Time to prove yourself," he says, lowering his tone a little. "You wait here and be a good Saviour. Simon! You know what to do," he says, as he gets inside the RV.  

"Right! Let's get this set up," Simon makes you put a van full of bullet holes near the RV, some other cars are parked facing the center, then Negan turns off the lightning and they move the Alexandrian further. Just after, Simon organizes your positions, patting your shoulder to pity you for what you might see. There's an echoed sound of whistles through the forest and you join them as you have been commanded, walking to the back of the semicircle of Saviours, to watch for any walker attracted by the sound. 

There is nowhere to run for the poor souls that are about to be punished. No one can cross the Saviors and get away with it, that, you have clear. There is punishment. There is and will always be punishment. 

Finally, seconds later, the rest of the group arrive at the meeting point carrying a stretcher, just to find themselves surrounded by the Saviors coming from everywhere around the forest and the incessant whistle. Negan's trademark whistle. There is nowhere to hide, their RV parked in front of them, now the lights of the cars turning on, blinding them for a second while the Saviours that followed them make the closing wall of the circle. Looking like deers surrounded by wolves, fear of the unknown is written all over their faces. The general whistles start to fade, yours too. Then a thick silence is made.

"Good. You made it. Welcome to where you were going." says Simon, walking forward. You observe one more time behind you, other Saviours keeping their ears up for walkers or other guests but it has to look like you all are just watching a show. "We will take your weapons," he adds, extending his arms vaguely to the rest of the team, then points a gun to one of them, a kid with a wounded eye. "Now." 

'Very brave, Simon…' you think.

"We can talk about-" speaks up a man with a peppery beard and really strong southern accent, who seems to finally understand the situation they had put themselves into.

"We're done talking. Time to listen," throws Simon in a meaningful tone. Some men approach the group to take the weapons and he walks to the kid. "That's yours, right?" he closes in on the child, adopting a menacing stance. "Yeah, it's yours," adds before clipping on the kid sheriff hat. Regaining his posture he commands. "Okay! Let's get her down and get you all on your knees. Lots to cover."

"Hold up," says a redhead that looks like he could definitely put up some resistance. Big muscles and a fierce look that also exudes from his very being. 'A soldier,' you can guess. You've seen enough of them to be able to tell them apart. "We got it."

"Sure, sure," replies Simon, making a signal for them to proceed. They help a short-haired woman that looks very sick to get to her knees in the center. For the others, it takes a little longer to obey. "Gonna need you on your knees," replies Simon starting to get impatient. "Dwight!"

"Yeah," answers the blonde fellow, dutifully.

"Chop-chop," Simon commands, to the expectant man. 

"Come on. You got people to meet," Dwight moves from behind the crowd and advances to the bullet-holed van. The first person you see shocks you to the bone. 'Daryl!' you freeze. 'He's alive!? What is he doing here!? Oh god, I moved that van!' So many questions are building in your head that you start to spiral. The last time you saw Daryl the world was guided by less hard rules than survival, or at least that was the image portrayed by everything surrounding you. Times when you were way younger and with fewer experiences in life over your shoulders. Those were by far, sweeter times.

You met Daryl when you were twenty and he was twenty-seven, by chance, getting into the worst-looking bar in your area with your "friends". They were in one of those reckless moods and they called you for a girls' night, although they were nearer to Daryls' age than yours. 'Why am I with them again? Oh, yeah! My mum wants me to be nice to them because they are her new friends' daughters.' you told yourself each time. You ended up sticking with them, though you were a lone wolf and by far very different from them. 

"If you want to feel like you are wild, or whatever, we could go for a bungee jump. You are just going to find a bunch of regular people chilling, I'm telling you," you told them that afternoon. You knew that to be a fact but they did not listen. 

When you opened the door because somehow you were the head of the group, although you weren't even allowed inside by age, your eyes found Daryl instantly. You knew right in that second, the guy was just a bit odd in his group. A quiet guy, in a group that looked like the kind of pricks you would like to kick their asses. Troublemakers, busting up fights. The kind with 'I'm a prick because my parents neglected me and I don't know what the fuck I'm doing with my life,’ as a life excuse. 

Merle, Daryl's brother, called you and your friends over to sit with them, as they spotted you at the door and the impulsive girl of the group was walking there before you could stop her. The rest had to run after her, looking at each other with longing of going home.

'There are only two ends to this night,' you thought. You walked behind them with your sassy face and took your seat at Daryl's side. He looked at you sideways, not sure of what to do or not sure what you had in mind with him.

"Come on Daryl! Say something to the girl. You might finally get your ugly ass laid today, boy!" Merle laughed at his brother. Daryl, annoyed, flicked his tongue. He seemed bothered about something. You thought he was cute but did not say anything to him and instead glared at Merle. "Come on darling, you know why four girls have come here alone, dressed like that. And if you don't, well, you are too innocent to be here." 

Your clothes were quite normal, according to the fashion trends, not that you should have apologized if they weren't. Your sweetheart neckline sleeveless skater black dress was over your knees. Your friends wore similar things, showing more or less thigh, but that was not his business anyway.

"Dressed like what? We are not on display for your entertainment. Asshole." your voice slid through in his direction, venom staining your tongue, ready to bite at the wrong move. Your friends looked at you as if you just poked a bear with a stick.

"Be careful how you speak to me, girl. We are having fun! Don't be such a party pooper!" growled Merle, as if his sexist comment was not a serious thing that was meant to offend.

"How I-But you just-" you almost said, taking it way personal.

"Let's go for a drink," interrupted Daryl, with a calm tone, standing up. You didn't know he did it for your sake that night because Merle would, no doubt, have slapped you. You liked the fact he finally said something to you and gladly followed him. "You guys should leave, this is not your place," he said when you took a seat on a stool, looking behind to see his brother getting touchy with one of your "friends", she gave you an ok signal and a wink. You turned around rolling your eyes.

"Well, thanks for the advice but I'm not the one that chose the worst bar in town," he looked at you sideways again, kind of offended. "I meant no offense." He just nodded and handed you the beer that he just purchased. 'Cool! He has no idea I'm not old enough to drink! If I tell him they might kick me out… what would these airhead girls do next…  Damn. Why do I even bother?'

"I-Doesn't matter!" you interrupted yourself and made a toasting gesture with it. You told him your age later that night and although Merle made a joke about that he should keep away from jailbait, Daryl did not seem too bothered to see you again the next weekend, as you met them with the friend that was now hooking up with Merle.

He was difficult at first, whether it was for your age or him being uncomfortable around new people, you weren’t sure. You hung around and tried to be easygoing with him, although you would jump down the other guys' throats if they tried to talk to you. You kind of knew how to earn a biker's respect, it wasn't you trying to be someone you were not, just you being who you didn't trust to be around other men. 

He seemed to be good at reading people because he seemed to do it with ease, almost as well as you, only far more silent. Your persistence paid off and within a few months, his sweet and kind side became more obvious for you. It was easy to understand where that volatile character came from, he was raised by Merle and his parents indeed neglected them, which made him have to work for everything himself. There was never really anyone there for him to trust or rely upon, besides his brother. And Merle wasn't exactly a solid rock.

The more you talked, the more you were able to wheedle from him. The more you were able to see beyond the surly attitude he had towards everyone, it was a defence mechanism but that was it, he didn't do a single thing to go rogue or do bad things per se if he followed his brother it was his brother who did wrong, not him. For some people, it was difficult to separate them from behavior and action, so Daryl was harshly misjudged, which only fed his aversion towards people. But it was truly not that difficult to get along with him if you dismissed disruptive judgments. 

Your mother did not like him at first and asked you to stay away from him, that pissed him off when he found out about it. He asked you to leave him alone and said 'What is a nice college girl doing with a savage town boy, anyway? Your mum is right, we don't match.' But when you made your way to see him again because you knew he was pushing you away. To avoid bad blood between you and your family, he did not send you away or say anything to make you feel bad about your argument. The two of you just sat next to each other until you reached for the hand resting over his thigh while getting closer to him, then you tangled your fingers with his and he did the same.

The physical contact was just a world apart, at first it was difficult because you weren't sure how to interact. You liked the guy, so you wanted to let him know he was different from the other man you talked to. You had always seemed like a cold bitch in that aspect of your life, not sure if it was for the way your mum was around her people, even if she was an affectionate mother, or if it was for the thought that guys had to earn any sort of closeness from you.

It was probably the latter because that mentality has not changed that much. You have to like someone very much to be physical in any way. On the other hand, he flinched at your approaches at first, so you respected his personal space for months until he got used to having you around for a little bit more than talking.

It was you who took the initiative in sex, even being a virgin because he was always very reserved when it came to the subject. You were kind of worried about what kept him from advancing, so you made sure to be clear enough on how far you wanted him to go. 

That day, you placed a condom box over his nightstand making sure he saw you do it, the rest was history. He was delicate and gentle, it stung at first but it wasn't painful at all and he even made you feel the fireworks. For what you knew, the first time this wasn't always the case. Besides that, Daryl didn’t seem to be a very sexual person.

You were in love with him, nothing stopped you from being with him, and no one was able to come between the two of you. You even managed to tolerate Merle in his ways and inopportune jokes. That was until his dealing with drugs fucked up everything.

Your eyes grow wet from the memories and you force yourself to blink them away. It is not the moment for a breakdown. You always knew you were not over what happened with you two but had pushed your feelings so far away in the back of your mind when you moved. You didn't know how bad that wound was still stinging, until now.

All you can do in the situation you are in is to put on your 'cold as ice' face back on and keep your shit together. At least until you get your thoughts and feelings in place and order. 

"We've got a full boat! Let's meet the man," Simon approaches the RV and knocks at the door, then walks back to where the future Negan's victims are, to stand behind them. Negan opens the door and steps out with all his weight, bouncing on his knees with Lucille’s placed intimidatingly at his shoulder. Displaying his pearly whites in a wicked grin and in that exact moment, you know that something you won't forget is about to happen. Something really, really bad.

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Pissin' Our Pants Yet?- Chapter 4: New order

💕Pairing: Negan x Female Reader 

✏️Genre/au: Canon, Action, Smut, Sci-fi, The Walking Dead Fic

✏️Rating: PG 18+, explicit

📝Wordcount: 9173

⚠️chapter warnings: Shitloads of cursing, Gore details (zombies), Mentions of cults, mentions of cult practices, dictatorship status

<<< 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 3 | 𝕸𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 5 >>>

Hii! Did you stumble across this work? Glad you're here 😊 Please, let me know your thoughts once you are finished. Feedback keeps me motivated to write 😁

Note that English is not my first language, so please if you find grammar mistakes, let me know. :)

My gratitude goes to @alldevilsarehere90 for her hard work on beta reading this huge chapters🧡

"Pissing our pants yet?" says Negan, the wicked big bad wolf on full display, the dance of shadows and lights in the clearing only making him look more imposing. The alpha in him is exuding from every pore through the depths of his hatred. 

'That's how he uses his anger. He channels it to dominance and subjugation,’ you think as you watch Lucile with her dangerous wires resting at his shoulder, his head held high. If you would have met him in this situation instead, you would have felt far more terrified of him than you were back in the mall. His characteristic smile back to his lips as he starts to walk, knowing they are not yet aware of the things Gregory the pencil dick has told Simon about them. "Boy, do I have a feeling we’re getting close.'' He keeps on his advances, calmly, inspecting the prey, checking each one of them in a semicircle. "Yep, it’s gonna be Pee-Pee Pants City here, real soon," his smile doesn't fade an inch at any moment, then casually points at each one of them while asking: "Which one of you pricks is the leader?" 

"It's this one," Simon replies, pointing to a slim man seemingly in his mid-forties, judging by his peppery beard. Looking at Negan as if he isn't surrounded by at least fifty men or as if Negan is as much of a threat as a walker without legs. To a certain point, you can understand his attitude. 'The dude has taken down a bunch of Saviours like they were pigs waiting to be slaughtered, instead of soldiers to a tyrant's regime,' you remind yourself. "It's this guy," adds Simon with his typical second-in-command tone. Negan looks at the guy up and down, first curious, then gets closer, smiling widely. He already knew. 

"Hi, you’re Rick, right?" he licks his molars, knowing he’s about to break some tough questions for these people, surely: the 'What's he going to do to us?' one. But starts talking seriously and the darkness shown in his features just seconds ago, makes its way into his words. Simon, in front of you, seems to be somewhere darker, his body so tense while seeming to be standing casually, you are sure you heard his joints snap. Like a contained animal on a tight leash. "I’m Negan. And I do not appreciate you killing my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people, you killed more of my people," his eyes strain and his voice grows lower with those words. 

"Not cool. Not fucking cool. You have no idea how not fucking cool that shit is," the guy looks at him and you notice that sparkle in Negans eyes. Something crosses his mind. "But I think you’re gonna be up to speed shortly. Yeah, you are so gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes," that smile slowly comes back to his face, the lights making his pearls stand against the dark expression in the rest of his demeanour. "Yes, you are," his tongue travels to the side of his mouth again and for some sick reason you find that sexy. "You see, Rick, whatever you do, no matter fuckin' what, you don’t mess with the new world order. And the new world order is this, and it’s really very simple, so, even if you’re stupid, which you very well may be, you can understand it." There's a short pause in his speech. "You ready? Here goes, pay attention:" he adds, dropping Lucille from his shoulder to point to the guy who's sweating and shaking like jelly, probably starting to notice there's no way out or trying to figure one out, making him move uncomfortably away from her. 

"Give me your shit, or I will kill you," a confident smile appears on Negan's lips. You are the only lucky bastard at Sanctuary on that matter, there's nothing that Negan can threaten you with besides your own life and you are sure he already knows that wouldn't even be a threat. That is until Daryl has reappeared in your life and something has twisted in your soul. Bringing back the threat of trouble and something old, something you thought you left on the road. "Today was career day." Negan starts to pace in front of them with Lucille at his side, talking louder for everyone to hear. Not that you couldn't in this forest of silence. "We invested a lot so you would know who I am, and what I can do. You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me," he points to a short-haired woman. "That’s your job. Now, I know that is a mighty big, nasty pill to swallow, but swallow it you most certainly mother-fuckin' will." there's some rage in his voice but he knows tonight the rules will be engraved in every single one of their minds with blood. That smile coming and going in the meantime, makes you hope it's just his way of making people think he doesn't care about hurting people to make them fall in line. "You ruled the roost. You built something. You thought you were safe. I get it. But, the word is out: You are not safe. Not even close." emphasising those last words to make a point. 'We are the only ones safe, the Saviours. Only if we follow his rules.' It makes you shiver. 

"In fact, you are fucked. More fucked if you don’t do what I want. And what I want is half your shit. And if that’s too much, you can make, find, or steal more, and it’ll even out sooner or later. This is your way of life now," he explains, extending his arms referring to the situation they are in. "The more you fight back, the harder it will be. So if someone knocks on your door, " he chuckles, "you let us in. We own that door. You try to stop us, and we will knock it down. Do you understand?'' Then he cups his ear not really expecting a response, as he arches his brows towards Rick. All probably because there's still some glare-fight coming from his little crowd. The courtesy isn't replied. "What, no answer?" He steps back again to direct himself to the kneeling group. 

"You don’t really think that you were gonna get through this without being punished, now, did you?" you look at the group stopping your eyes from staying too much on the one body you know. You knew him but you can't stop the thought: 'Anyone but him, please.'  "I don’t want to kill you, people. Just want to make that clear from the get-go. I want you to work for me. You can’t do that if you’re fuckin' dead, now, can you? I’m not growing a garden.'' Then you notice a change in the air, so thick it could be cut with a knife as if the words before were just a warm-up and he is starting the main event. Starting to get serious. "But you killed my people, a whole damn lot of them, more than I’m comfortable with. And for that, for that, you’re gonna fucking pay. So now, I’m gonna beat the holy hell outta one of you." he makes a slight pause to put his weapon of choice on display. 

"This, this is Lucille, and she is awesome. All this is just so we can pick out which one of you gets the honor.'' He keeps walking and stops in front of a redhead that gives him a 'Let it be me, I'm not scared of you,' kind of look, to which Negan smiles, inhaling sharply while rubbing his beard. "Huh. Ugh, I gotta shave this shit," he mutters to himself, then keeps walking till he sees the young man with the patch on his eye. "You got one of our guns." Negan squats in front of the kid. "Yeah. You got a lot of our guns," his gaze grilling on the kid but the boy keeps eye contact. You shiver, thinking that giving him a stink eye in this situation is probably a dead sentence but the boy is so young, he's probably not yet had the time to make big mistakes to pay for. 

"Shit, kid, lighten up. At least cry a little," Negan tells him with a chuckle before clearing his throat. He moves around still not deciding, just creating tension before choosing who's gonna die tonight. But stops in front of the short-haired woman again, who already looked like she was going to pass out when she was put down from the makeshift bed and she looks even worse now, judging from Negan’s ‘not giving a fuck tone’, says: "Je-sus. You look shitty. I should just put you out of your misery right now-"

"No! No!" shrieks an east asian guy, near to tears as he launches forward towards the woman. You bet, to protect her. 'They are a couple, definitely.' Dwight and another Savior reduce him quite violently, the first one pointing the crossbow to his head while the guy grunts on the ground.

"Nope," Negan, who has been watching the whole thing, starts to move again. "get him back in line," commands before sighing.

"N-noo…" grunts the guy while Dwight drags him to his place again. Then growls and yells with impotence and desperation. 'They don't look like bad people, in fact, they look like pretty normal people you would find at the grounds of Sanctuary. Maybe they just wanted to defend themselves' but it's not your call. "Don't... Don't…" the guy continues to plead, Negan chuckles again but you can't see the fun in all this even if he pointed it out to you.

"Hey, listen. Don't any of you, do that again. I will shut that shit down. No exceptions. First one's free. It's an emotional moment," Negans' smile comes back again, "I get it." He pauses. At this point, it seems obvious how many times he's done this to know how to increase the tension and not let the situation become a bloodbath. You realise that this might, indeed, be a tough choice. He has to choose between them the one that will seal the deal. They all are very close to each other somehow, from what you've heard along the waves, seems like the community is tightly bonded together. "Sucks, doesn’t it? The moment you realize you don’t know shit?" He looks at them and stops his eyes at the kid again, then points him with Lucille and his gaze shifts towards Rick. "This is your kid, right?" he laughs cruelly, sucking in a croaky breath. As if it's been a funny realisation, although you know he already knew somehow before making that comment. "This is definitely your kid!" he adds with a chuckle.

"So stop that!-" growls Rick, finally saying something.

"Hey! Do not make me kill the little future serial killer. Don’t make it easy on me," he suggests, showing off that he already knows who is who and what's been done. "I gotta pick somebody. See, everybody's at the table waiting for me to order." He starts to walk again, with his characteristic whistle, letting the air break through his teeth before saying: "I simply cannot decide..." Then turns, giving them his back, before another dark chuckle escapes, adding to his mystique. Turning, again, to look at them, he adds:  "I got an idea…" wetting his lips, giving it a little thought and his teeth gleaming brightly again. A terrible one, you guess. 

"Eenie. Meenie." he starts, pointing at each one of them, starting at Rick. "Miney. Mo. Catch. The tiger. By. His toe. If. He hollers. Let him go..." he moves to the other end of the lined-up people. "My mother. Told me. To pick. The very. Best. One. And you. Are. It." The time stops for a second, so does your heart in anticipation. Something familiar, yet unknown, stirring up some old emotion close to terror in you. Pure terror. "Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy’s other eye out and feed it to his father, and then we’ll start. You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell, you’re all gonna be doing that!" The mighty strength put on Lucille for the first hit affects his last words. Then something stops in you, a numbing sensation, swallowing anything you'd been feeling until this moment. Your blood cold in your veins as you see real blood dripping. Some old memory triggering but it doesn't clarify, it doesn't show in your mind. "Oh! Look at that! Taking it like a champ!"

"Suck. My. Nuts," replies the redhead as the blood starts flowing through his head and drips down. The people who know him cry and grunt in desperation. You can do nothing, you just stand there trying to seem like you are looking, but your mind is not focused on that anymore. 

It is hard to see someone you know, do those kinds of things to someone else but you remind yourself that this is survival to the fittest, you have chosen a side, you don’t know these people. You have to stick to the plan. They killed a bunch of your people. You are not a heartless bitch for this. Just one kill, just one and everything will be over. Your head spins on the times you've killed, it was always personal somehow: someone who was a threat, someone who'd hurt you or your family, someone hurting someone else who couldn't defend themself… What was really that different from this? Nothing. Your hands are dirty too. Who hasn't killed these days?

"Did you hear that?" You focus back to a mass of brain and blood instead of where a head should be, on the floor. Negans' voice is tired from the effort. "He said: Suck my nuts!" He exclaims, before laughing. He continues to smash the mass. This only adds to the distress of the people on their knees. Negan moans by the strength put on his act and you forget for a second the situation you are in. "Look at this!" he swings Lucille, spraying blood everywhere and makes that deep husky laugh, when he’s enjoying something way too much. "You guys, look at my dirty girl!" he continues between tired breaths. "Sweetheart. Lay your eyes on this." He adds, pointing to a woman within the kneeling group and sighs heavily. "Oh, damn. Were you- Were you together?" points out moving Lucile between the corpse and the woman. "That sucks. But if you were, you should know there was a reason for all this. Red- and hell, he was, is, and will ever be red. He just took one or six or seven for the team!" he concludes, with dark humor added to his last line. You can hear all of them breathing shakily, affected by the circumstances and it spins your head, unable to get joy from it. Unable to convince yourself that joking around in a situation like this is acceptable. "So, take a damn look!'' Then,  before you notice that you have been walking at all and even less moved, you are grabbing Daryl who has tried to jump on top of Negan, surely to punch him. You whisper in his ear "Be smart, don't get anyone else killed..." he moves his head to look at you, eyes wide open, then tries to shake off from your grip. 

"Daryl!" shouts Rick.

"No! Oh, no." You see Negan pointing at Rick. After a little silence, he chuckles looking at you. Your mind processes then that he might assume you protected him, which you did too, somehow. But the darkness in his sight gives you the thought he might have caught on to  you and Daryl knowing each other. If that is it, you two are fucked, in one way or another. "Get him on his knees."

You obey and retire back to your place on the right side in the background, you begin shaking worried he might kill Daryl as he warned just minutes before. Simon approaches, "Calm down, sweetheart," he whispers, but you barely notice. The way you shake being the telltale sign of how troubled you are, makes you shoot him a murderous look and even with all his height and strength he backs up, hand leaving your shoulder. A thought occurs to you, that if Negan kills Daryl... 'Why do you still care, you idiot!? He broke up with you ages ago! Literally, ages, what? Ten-eleven-twelve years ago? Shit, who can remember that...? Maybe he is not the person you remember him to be.' You keep strong but know you will hate Negan if he kills him. You would kill him. 

In a normal situation, you would be working in a conversation with Daryl. Settle things for you to move on from the past for good. Not that you would bother with anyone else. After all, you were raised not to take bullshit from anyone. But now, 'Shit... This totally sucks...'. 

Negan looks at you once more but your head is already spinning to the past. 

You tie your middle-length, dyed black hair in a ponytail before you hand him a cup of hot chocolate from the thermos. Then you rest your head on his thighs once again. Staring up at the sky full of bright tiny dots in the darkness whilst you caress the picnic blanket next to his legs with your index, making circles while watching your breaths making foggy clouds in the air.

It was your idea to go see the stars in the middle of November but it's the best time to go stargazing, when there's less heat and humidity haze, not that you couldn't see them in summer but the view was definitely better. 

The road to Brasstown Bald has also been enjoyable by itself. Anything that has to do with going on Daryl's bike is pleasurable to you. Sometimes you wish you could just have your own and at this point, you know Daryl wouldn't be the kind to shame you about it. You can't say the same about your mum, she definitely would oppose the idea. She has had enough of her son being a biker, she doesn't want her daughter to be a biker herself. Little does she know you are actually an ol' lady. Even Merle calls you that.

You pull your furry blanket higher due to the cold and Daryl's gaze drifts towards you. In a quick movement, he places his drink over the grass, peeling off his own blanket and lies down next to you. Then takes the spare blanket and pulls it over the one you already have.

Although your heights are not so different, his much bigger frame makes you feel tiny in his arms as you cuddle, with your head against his chest. His breaths and his heartbeat are like lullabies. The tenderness filling your heart makes you wish moments like this could last forever. 

It's surprising how many things your body can do automatically. You've moved into the background from one edge of the crowd to another, being now on the left. Even with that, you've seen it all, as if you were watching. Even if you've tried to eradicate it.

"Sure. Yeah," Negan keeps his squat in front of Rick. "Give me his axe," ’Jesus. What's he gonna do with it now…?’ you wonder. Simon walks forward from his corner and hands it to Negan, who puts the axe in front of Rick and starts to get into an ironic stare-off, smiling and analyzing the man he has in front of him once again. After seeing there is no back down from Rick, his demeanour turns stern. Standing, he puts the axe in his belt with a deep sigh, then grabs Rick by the collar of his jacket and starts to drag him through to the RV. "I'll be right back. Maybe Rick will be with me. And if not, well, we can just turn these people inside out, won’t we?" He pushes Rick through the open door and adds: "I mean the ones that are left." He points at you and then points to the vehicle in a silent order. You jog following after him, closing the door behind, you can locate the axe pinned on the table before you sit in the copilot. Negan is already in the driving seat. He’s looking  straight ahead with determination. 

"Let's go for a ride." He tries to start the engine with no success. "Wow. What a piece of shit!" Then he sucks in with his tongue between his teeth and adds: "I'm gonna kill you..." with mockery, imitating Ricks' previous statement and chuckling at it. "Are you kidding me? Did you see what just happened? What I just did? You just..." he comments, sighing ironically. "Your best chance, is to stand up, grab that axe, and drive it to the back of my head," he states, without even turning around. You are not sure if it is due to cockiness or because he is sure Rick will not do it but you're still sitting with your legs halfway in Negan's direction in case you have to stand abruptly. "See how you do?" Now you see Negan looking through the rearview mirror. "Keep acting tough. Go ahead. Grab, the damn, axe.'' When Rick does exactly that, Negan stands up at the second, pointing an M4A1 SOPMOD previously left next to the driver seat while you point him with your Magnum Desert Eagle. You have not even bothered to get up and just turned in your seat. Negan makes a denial gesture with his head and chuckles.

"Drop it," He says in a tone that almost mimics the sigh, which causes a shiver of excitement in your body. ‘At what point have you started to like his dominant tone…? Damn girl, you're fucked up.’ Rick obeys,  the clink of the axe on the ground sounds around you. Then Negan uses the base of his weapon to hit Rick's belly, cutting off his breath. Sighing again, he sticks the axe back on the table in such way that it makes Rick reel back, even though you remain impassive. "Do not make me get up again." Concludes Negan dryly. When he turns back, you exchange glances. "Well, look at that. Dawn is breakin'." his eyes meet yours again, with a face you can not decipher, then turns back, his pearly smile doing the honors on his face once again. "It's a brand-new day, Rick," he announces with a chuckle and sits in front of the wheel, ready to go. "I want you to think about what could have happened, think about what happened, and think about what can still happen." Negan sighs as if tired of repeating himself, which is probably not a good thing for the dude on his knees. Then Negan starts the engine and the big machine finally moves. Silence falls upon you all for a few seconds and you take the chance to observe the person who has become Negan’s plaything, only to realise he is lost inside his mind. ‘Good, he's thinking, maybe this will end soon for all of us. This shit is taking too long if he just accepts that he has nothing left and that he lost… I hate this shit I wanna go home.' The day is brightening but the road is covered in a dense fog that won't let you see in an inch of distance without the lights. You hear a walker approaching just before the RV splashes its head in the front window. 

Negan laughs with malice "Oh! Boom!" jokes Negan before he keeps laughing. "That reminds you of anybody you know?" ’Oh boy...’ Another giggle comes along while bashing another walker’s head against the front of the vehicle. "Oh, yeah." The growling continues, you suppose it must be a herd attracted by all the noise that has been going on the past few hours. The brakes squeal and the engine shuts off, then Negan makes the keys jingle in his hand. Grunting, he walks to the back but you just stay and observe. Squatting on Rick’s side, he states: "You are mine. The people back there," Rick does not meet Negans' eyes as he speaks "they are mine. This," He shows Rick the axe "This is mine."

All the grunting noises coming from outside indicate a large amount of walkers approaching the RV. Negan stands up and walks to the door opening it and does something you would not expect. After killing one of the undead, looks at Rick whose eyes are on the carpet that covers the floor and with a naughty face, he throws the axe over the roof of the motorhome. "Hey, Rick, go get my axe. Let's be friends." Rick looks at him for a second, pissed off, not wanting to bow his will to Negan’s ways of humiliating people. Another walker tries to get inside, fighting for the taste of flesh. "Oh," Negan says with a chuckle, then bashes its head with Lucille. Negan sighs and angrily approaches Rick, threatening him with Lucille. "Get my axe." Moving away to leave some space for the guy to reach the door, you can see in the obvious expressions of his face that Rick is struggling to give up. But then Negan throws him out of the truck without giving him a thought and closes the door behind. You stay put, staring at Negan who's now looking back at you.

"I can't wait to get home," you whisper, looking away while you stand, more for yourself than anything else.

"Yeah. Well. I have a better idea after what I saw earlier," says Negan with a lusty whisper. You suppose he is referring to the fact that you saved his gorgeous face from a punch.

"You're welcome," you say, looking at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. "It was nothing, really. But I was referring to going to take a nap. I'm so done..." you talk back in a playful tone while closing the distance between you. His features show he's not in the mood for pull-and-push.

"I was expecting to end what we started before. Maybe get that sweet a-" You give him a killshot glare to which he responds with a dark smile from his side.

"Language," you grill.

"Hey, didn’t mean to-" he responds quietly in contrast with his previous attitude but gets interrupted by Rick's footsteps on the roof of the RV. He looks up, forgetting about you and loud enough for Rick to hear, says: "Bet you thought you were all gonna grow old together, sittin' around the table at Sunday dinner and the happily ever after," pausing for dramatic effect. "No. Doesn't work like that, Rick. Not anymore. Think about what happened," then his eyes meet yours. "People died, Rick. It's what happened. Doesn't mean the rest of them have to. Get me my axe." There’s the lesson you mustn’t forget: he doesn’t feel like what he is doing is wrong. "Get me my axe!" repeats looking at the ceiling and then whispers to you: "So, sweetheart you are on my top list now. The way you stopped that guy, your fury..." he gets closer, expecting you to react but instead, you press your hand on his chest. He wastes no time grabbing it and kissing your wrist.

"Let's leave this for the privacy of Sanctuary, shall we?" you whisper in his ear. He puts his hand gently in your throat, catching your jaw and kisses you. You can hear in the background how the amount of walkers around the RV is increasing.

"I thought you were the guy, Rick. Maybe you're not!" speaks Negan but this time doesn't look away, his hand moves to the back of your hip. His voice louder and intense. "We'll give it one more go. Now, I really want you to try this time. Last chance," his face gets darker when he hears no movement from up, his hand leaves your hip to unlock the automatic weapon and his eyes look up before shouting: "Bring me, my axe!" then he moves quickly away from you and starts to fire it towards the ceiling, slightly away from where you could hear Ricks' footsteps. You note the thud of his run and the sound of a chain rattling. The two of you head to the back window to see him hanging, grasping like a koala onto an undead guy hanging off the bridge. Then the walkers start to pull him down by his feet when he slides a little from the moving body. You look at Negan, who only smiles at you. You gesture at him with a: 'Please, do something,' look, his only response is a chuckle and an eye roll as if he thinks you have no sense of humor. When your eyes make their way outside again, you both see how the head of the hanging corpse is separating from the body 'Jesus! That's awful!' you think, totally disgusted. Negan quickly opens the back window and starts to shoot at the walkers surrounding Rick. You move back to your seat, expecting this to be over soon.

"Clock is ticking, Rick!" Says Negan, closing the window with a knock of his hand against it, then adds, "Think about what can still happen!" You can hear Rick outside grunting, assuming he's fighting the walkers. Negan winks at you and you have to hold back the disgust you feel for his enjoyment. Negan presses the horn, to alarm Rick outside, you guess, or maybe the walkers. You can hear Rick bashing walkers on the other side of the door. One splashes against the RV, like a popped water balloon. He tries to enter but the door is locked and you can hear one more crashing against the bodywork. 

Negan calmly opens the door and shoots with his M4 clearing a little area for Rick to enter, then gets out of the way before Rick jumps in closing the door behind him, panting hard. Negan paces in the same spot, while Rick attempts to get the air back into his lungs. When he finally stands, the big boss looks him over, demanding the object with his hand. Rick reluctantly gives it to him with hate in his eyes and sits at the table with his head down. Negans' stare stays on the other man and even with his back to you, you know he is smiling. "Attaboy!" with that he sinks the axe into the table once more and walks to the wheel. You see from the corner of your eye how Rick follows him with his eyes, staring daggers at him. 'Man, you are not understanding shit, are you…?' you think. He is so focused that he seems to have forgotten your presence. Negan starts the engine and drives back to the meeting point.

"We're here, prick," states Negan, standing up and walking over to Rick, who at the same time keeps that killshot glare fixed on him. Negan notices and judging by the way he smiles, you know he's not having any of it. 'This guy has way too much testosterone or he’s just a fucking idiot. Oh lord… Just bow your head and accept you lost'. Negan starts to talk while checking on the cabinets. "This must be hard for you, right? I mean, you have been King Shit for so long. Losin' three of your own like," He snaps his fingers in front of Rick. “And yes, I'm taking the punching hellcat too.”

“Oh. Goody!" he exclaims when he finds a bottle of ethyl alcohol before opening it. Following the motion with a sigh, he leaves the cap on the table and leans on top of Rick before adding. "You were in charge." He unhooks the axe from the table, "Hell," he rubs it against Rick's jacket to remove the traces of clotted blood that cover it, making Rick wince. "you were probably addicted to it. And now," Negan starts throwing the liquid over the metal of the weapon to clean it. "well, clip, clip- that's over. But," he points out, as he takes a seat in front of Rick, "you can still lead a nice, productive life producing for me." Rick's eyes meet Negan's, not submitting and this time he passes Rick the axe by the handle. You can sense his smile again. "I think you're gonna need it. I just got a feelin'," Negan tells him before he sighs. You know that Rick is pushing his patience with the useless resistance he is showing. "So take it," he concludes, demanding. By his tone, you'd say Negan is borderline angry but you can't really tell if it's part of the game or if it's real. 'His mood swings… damn…' He stands and you follow his lead, only to see him throwing Rick out of the RV.

Negan grabs Rick by the nape again, to put him in front of his group as if he was a dog. You follow out of the RV and close the door behind you before reuniting with the rest of the crew.

"Here we are. Let me ask you something, Rick. Do you even know what that little trip was about?" inquires Negan without moving. You can now see the faces of Rick's group in detail and notice, that Daryl now has blood running down his shoulder, which pisses you off, awakening old feelings of protectiveness. "Speak when you're spoken to."

"Okay. Okay," replies Rick breathing heavily.

"That trip was about the way that you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand..." explains Negan, adding a smile when Rick gives him the look, again. "But you're still looking at me the same damn way. Like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that's not gonna work! I wanted you to understand. So," then he squats next to the man in question, playing with Lucille in his grip. "Do I give you another chance?"

"Yeah," replies Rick rapidly, still panting. "Yes. Yes."

"Okay." Negan taps on Rick's shoulder before adding: "All right!" standing again and rubbing his nose thoughtfully. "Here it is," bouncing he paces for a moment, "the grand prize game. What you do next will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone's last crap day or just another crap day." He then gestures to the Saviours at the back. "Get some guns to the back of their heads." obedience takes only seconds. "Good. Good. Now level with their noses, so if you have to fire-" gesturing an explosion paired with sound effects in a very graphic way, adds: "it'll be a real mess." then chuckles. "Kid," he says, calling the youngest subjects attention, inviting him with a hooked finger, then pointing to the floor where he wants him to go. "Right here." Disobedient, the boy does not move and stays put looking back at him. "Kid. Now." Finally he moves.

"You a southpaw?" Negan asks him once he is where he ordered.

"Am I a what?" asks the kiddo, giving Negan a strange look.

"You a lefty?" Negan inquires, rephrasing his question as he would to a child.

"No." replies the boy, derogatorily. ‘This kid has a fucking nerve! Like father, like son...’

"Good," adds Negan, while tying his own belt on the left arm of the kid with Lucille held under his own. "That hurt?" he wonders then, with no genuine care in his tone.

"No." 

‘God, Negan will fool himself into thinking this kid would make a good Saviour. His face says it all...’.

"Should. It's supposed to," he replies with his characteristic grin. "All right. Get down on the ground, kid. Next to daddy. Spread them wings!" orders the man, throwing the boy’s hat away at his back. The kid obeys when Negan makes him go down to the floor and gives him a final push to make his belly touch the ground, with a grunt. "Simon, you got a pen?" 

"Yeah," Simon responds, unimpressed.

"Sorry, kid," apologizes the big boss as he takes off the lid from the marker pen, then groans when he squats next to the boy as if his knees hurt after so much bouncing. With the cap held between his teeth, he starts drawing something on the kid's arm and adds: "This is gonna be as cold as a warlock's ballsack, just like he was hanging his ballsack above you and dragging it right across the forearm." then takes the cap from his mouth and returns it to the pen before passing it back to Simon. "There you go. Give you a little average."

"Please don't. Please don't," begs Rick, eyes pleading with Negan.

"Me?" Negan chuckles dismissively. "I ain't doing shit." then stands, with Lucille back in his grip again. "Ahh...Rick, I want you to take your axe and cut your son's left arm off, right on that line."

‘What the fuck…’ 

"Now, I know- I know. You're gonna have to process that for a second. That makes sense. Still though, I'm gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die," Rick begins hyperventilating. "then Carl dies, then the people back home die, and then you, eventually. I'm gonna keep you breathing for a few years, just so you can stew on it."

"You-You don't have to do this. We understand. We understand." pleads a dreadlock-haired woman.

"You understand," emphasizes Negan. "Now. I'm not sure that Rick does," he remarks, before returning his attention to the man in question. "I'm gonna need a clean cut right there on that line. Now, I know this is a screwed-up thing to ask, but it's gonna have to be like a salami slice." 

‘He’s got to be fucking joking… why am I even surprised at this point...’ you think. 

"Nothing messy, clean, 45 degrees- Give us something to fold over. We got a great doctor. The kid'll be fine..." Then fakes to ponder on it for a second. "Probably." Squatting again directly in front of him he continues, "Rick this needs to happen now,  chop-chop, or I will crush the little fella's skull myself." he adds, aiming the baseball bat at the kids' head.

"It can-It can-It can be me. It can be me. W-W-" Rick stutters sniffing, completely discomposed. "Y-You can do it to me. I c-I can go with-with you."

"No. This is the only way..." Negan replies calmly. "Rick, pick up the axe." He orders as he stands again. A short silence is the response. "Not, making a decision, is a biiiig decision." Negan’s tone is starting to rise, meaning his patience is cracking. "You really want to see all these people die? You will. You will see every ugly thing," Rick hyperventilates again. "Oh, my God. Are you gonna make me count? Okay, Rick. You win. I am counting. Three!"

"Please…" Rick starts crying, "Please…" he gasps, "It can be me. Pleeease!" the crying intensifies, desperation evident in his words. "Please don’t…"

"Two!" Shouts Negan without compassion.

"Please, don't do-" "Rick continues pleading while sobbing. 

"This is it," replies Negan, after he squats to grab the crying man's face to make his point clear. "One!"

"Aaah!" Growls Rick desperately.

"Dad just do it." you can hear the kid whisper. “Just do it." 

‘What a pair of balls.’ 

Rick stays there struggling, breathing heavily and you start to think he might pass out. You have seen someone do so before, being under pressure, sometimes the body just collapses but instead, he keeps screaming, grabs the axe and points it to the sky, getting ready to do what he knows will change his kids' life. Negan squats next to Rick again, but his face is an image of winning and pride. Rick looks at him with the most pleading eyes you’ve ever seen. Broken.

"You answer to me. You provide for me." Rick nods obediently. All you can think is, 'This is what Sherry meant when she said he always gets what he wants, no matter what…' "You belong to me. Right?" growls Negan, while the man continues nodding, eagerly trying to get air back into his lungs. "Speak when you're spoken to!" shouts Negan grabbing Rick’s face violently "You answer to me! You provide for me!"

"Provide for you" replies Rick in a broken voice.

"You belong to me, right?!" remarks Negan, still shouting.

"Right," Rick answers.

"Right." Negan wins. ‘Negan always wins.' you think. 

"That. Is the look I wanted to see!" He exclaims, standing again. But things aren't over yet as he grabs the axe. "We did it, all of us, together. Even the dead on the ground. Hell, they get the spirit award, for sure." sighing, he adds: "Today was a productive damn day! Now, I hope, for all your sakes, that you get it now. That you understand how things work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you, that," he interrupts himself, chuckling. "is over now. Ah..." he adds before doing something that puts you on high alert, pointing at Daryl with Lucille: "Dwight! Load him up.'' The man in question has to put some effort to pull him back to the back of the van before he points at Daryl with the crossbow. Then you look at Daryl for a last time, his eyes meet yours before they close the doors. 

Negan squats again, next to Rick. "He's got guts- Yeah, he does. Not a little bitch like someone I know," he remarks, mocking Rick. "I like him. He's mine now. But you still want to try something?-Not today, not tomorrow- Not today, not tomorrow-? I will cut pieces off of-" he looks confused for a second and directs his eyes to Simon. "Hell's his name?"

"Daryl," Simon answers solemnly.

"Wow." Negan chuckles. "That actually sounds right!" his eyes dart back to Rick. "I will cut pieces off of Daryl and put them on your doorstep." smiling he decides to rephrase: "Or, better yet, I will bring him to you and have you do it for me." then he chuckles and pats Rick's shoulder before standing up. "Welcome to a brand-new beginning, you sorry shits!" he shouts, theatrically. "I'm gonna leave you a truck. Keep it. Use it to cart all the crap you're gonna find me." Then everybody starts to move, including Negan. You too in his direction. "We'll be back for our first offering in one week. Until then ta-ta!"

With that, he leaves behind his trail of destruction. In this case, it is more psychological than physical. 

You leave along with Negan, right behind him as you both get into the car. There and then the tiredness hits you. ‘Shit, I’m getting too comfortable… I was never this tired when alone.' But you put your seat back and close your eyes in what could be read as a trustful gesture towards Negan. You can feel his glare for a second but you just relaxe and let the darkness consume you. Then you are in a different place. 

It’s a cold night, too cold to be outside but your group has not found a shelter yet. After two days of walking around, trying to find food and medicines for Eric, the member who has been ill for a few days. Without that luck, it’s just getting worse. You have no other option than to light a fire for all of you to warm up. Laura and Alan, the blonde couple will keep the watch during the night so the rest of you can sleep. 

You wake up, startled by a scream, to find Eric has inexplicably become a walker. He had just a bad cold, no bite, no scratch. Now he's attacking your mum, who was sleeping right next to him to offer some aid during the night. 

He is ripping right into her throat by the time you all react to the horrible scene unfolding before you. Your first reaction is to put a bullet through his head. Running towards your mum, you can only watch as she chokes on her own blood. Tears start running down your cheeks and a hard lump forms in your throat, as you contain a scream of pain. Out of love and compassion, you show mercy by shooting her right in the middle of the forehead. 

You stand there, staring at her lifeless body with no light in her eyes, it's as if time has stopped, as if you were frozen, unable to move a muscle. She’s gone. Your mother is dead. 

The warm tears keep falling but you are numb, your thoughts collapsing, until you feel a hand pulling you before snapping back to reality. The screams and the gunshot have attracted more walkers to your camp. Some members of your group are already dead, their bodies scattered around you with chunks of them missing. Finally reacting, you run in the direction you are being pulled in. Your brother has your hand and you are both already breathless in your escape. 

After killing a few walkers on your way, you two get to a tree to rest for a few and that is when you notice it. Your hand is wet with red, blood, your brother's blood. You follow the trail up to his shoulder to see a bite. He is already losing too much blood, it probably nicked an artery. 

"John…" he hushes you. "John." You whisper this time. "You are bleeding..." you say. As if he hasn’t noticed yet, his eyes follow your gaze to his arm, under the light of the moon it seems to illuminate it.

"Shit!" he whispers. "Fuck!" you see a walker go the way you just came from. "You have to shoot me, Allie."

"What!? No!" He hushes you again. "No way…" you insist, adamant.

"I’m going to die, Alice." That shoots you like a bullet through the heart and you start to sob. "I don’t want to become one of those things… and I will only slow you down if we go together, for me to end up like them anyway. I don’t want to put you in danger.'

"Please don’t…" You can't stop crying. You feel weak and lonely all of a sudden. Unable to believe you are going to lose the only people you ever loved in your life on the same night. Your mum and your brother wiped out like dust in the wind. As if they were nothing. "I can’t do this alone… Please…"

"Allie, I love you and I want you to try to live. There has to be somewhere you can live a life, there has to be somewhere. I want you to find it. I want you to fight for it. I want you to live. Promise me you will live." You don’t say anything. "Promise me, Alice."

"I promise." You say and hug him, only to feel the accelerated beating of his heart, working very hard to keep the blood pumping through his body.

"You have to do it now," he mutters. You don’t know how much time has passed but you can see your brother looks paler. He tries to pick up the gun that is still in your hand but you pull your hand away. He looks at you, eyes pleading, but you can’t do it. Something stops you. Something selfish that wants to keep clinging onto your bond.

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…" you whisper as you cry. He nods, understanding, and with a movement faster than you expect, he yanks the gun out of your hand and shoots himself in the temple.

You whimper and automatically cling to his body stopping it from falling. You cradle him, burying your head against his chest, letting the knot in your throat break in a pained cry.

You wake up with a whimper as someone's hand moves you. You panic for a second but then notice you're still in Negan's car and he’s been the one to shake you awake.

"Sorry, love. You seem to be going through hell there." You notice the warm sensation of tears falling through your cheeks. "Oh shit…" You rush to swipe at your skin unwilling to show your weakness.

"I’m fine" he looks at you, clearly not believing it but he doesn't press it as he returns his eyes to the road. Noticing you’re shaking, you put your seat straight and rub your hands feeling strangely numb. ‘If the nightmare is back, it has to mean something’. 

You are still restless when you get out of the car. Negan starts ordering you, the Saviours, to occupy your next hours resting since he's satisfied with the job you all did. You see Dwight taking Daryl out of the van, Negan gives him a nod, and then he walks to the door and disappears through it. You feel the urge to go behind them and make sure Daryl is fine but that would be a serious mistake, for the both of you. So masking your nervousness, you lead the way through the corridors. Feeling a big, warm hand take hold of your wrist, takes you by surprise and your first response is to snatch your hand away that is before you realize it’s Negan.

"What’s going on?" He wonders seriously.

"Sorry, I'm just really tired," you reply showing a toothy smile but Negan does not buy it.

"I wouldn’t like to have a misunderstanding here, so, for your own sake, tell me what’s going on." He asks politely, yet there's a threatening undertone to it.

"I just vividly dreamed about how my mum and brother died… I think I’m feeling a little bit out of my body right now. My apologies," you answer, deleting the smile from your face. You can’t believe the fact that Negan gets closer and kisses your forehead.

"Go to sleep, sweetheart. I’ll see you in a few hours," he whispers. You nod appreciating the gesture, and with that you leave, walking slowly through the empty corridors. Once again in your room, you let your body fall on top of the bed and everything becomes pitch dark again. 

You wake up confused and alarmed for a second before realising where you are. It's night time and silence reigns at Sanctuary, as always. That's one good thing that came along with the disease. The silence. 'Some day nature will win it's place back.' you wish.

You get up from the bed thinking it could be a good chance to sneak out and get into the cells and see Daryl again, to know what kind of treatment he has been given. 

'Am I stupid to worry about him?' you wonder.  Looking through the room in the darkness, only the moonlight allows you to find the clothes you were wearing earlier. Still not showered, there is no point in changing the garments. 

Your steps lead you to the cells. The door isn't closed but you take a careful look at what's around you, in case there's someone on watch. There's an annoying song playing on repeat but you don't dare touch the music player. Surprisingly, there is no one looking after the prisoners. Taking the chance to look at which doors are locked before you find out only one of them is. Then you find yourself entering the guardian's room, looking for the set of keys. 

Opening the door you see a plastic plate on the floor with some sort of sandwich and Daryl covering his eyes from the light in the corridor, in one corner of the room. Your eyes fall over his dirty clothes and hair, thinking how the man has definitely seen better days. Then you realise he's looking at you. 

"Are you okay?" you ask, feeling stupid. He's obviously not but it's more like an opener of conversation. You begin to squat in front of him and reach out to touch his shoulder, only for him to avoid it. 

"I mean no harm…"

"Why are you with them?" he inquires, fierce eyes meeting yours.

"Seems things have taken a twist, uh?" you reply bitterly, unable to hold your tongue without that judgement.  "Now I'm the one with the bad guys and you're with the good ones. Who would have said that ten years ago, when your brother screwed everything up and you… still chose him," you grill him sarcastically, he lowers his head just slightly while still analyzing your face. 'Are you sorry or you are still your brother's puppy dog?'

"It was-" he tries to speak but you interrupt him.

"I was alone. I had no option. Also… I thought it could be a better chance of survival," his eyes still hard on you soften a little, just slightly enough for you to notice. "Don't lecture me, from what I've heard you killed dozens of Saviours for no apparent reason…"

"If you think they are good people you're delusional," he comments. You chuckle. It seems that some of Negan’s traits might be running off on you.

"Call me whatever you like Daryl… I've always done right by my conscience, I'm not going against it now." You whisper the last word. "I'll also remind you what I said that day; 'I forgive you'. No matter how bitter I am about it." you whisper that close to his ear, waiting for him to lash out at you but only surprise alters his features. He says nothing. When you move to stand, you find something calling your attention in the corner of your eye. Dwight's shocked look from the other side of the door with a sandwich in his right hand.

You calmly close the door and walk his way handing him the set of keys, with a dangerous smile, warning him to keep it a secret. If he were to drag you down, he would fall too and you both know it. Instead, he just nods and you keep walking while deciding it might be a good idea to have a shower and some food. 

In a hurry, you walk to pick up your stuff and rush to the showers, in case you are needed for anything. Afterwards with your hair still damp you sit on the couch of your room, opening a can of sardines, and cutting some bread to fill your stomach, even though it's still quite nauseous from the previous events. 'He's there, eating shit and I'm here eating like a monarchy these days. If I was lucky I wouldn't even know he's still alive…'

You are almost done when you hear a recognisable knock. 

"Come in," you call.

"Hello, darling," says Negan, swinging the door open slowly and entering with his hand still on it. His eyes meet yours with darkness.

Taglist @stxrg4zer @indigosparkle444 @paintlavillered

I hope you enjoyed this. Let me know your thoughts and reblog to let it spread 😊 See you soon! ~

GOOD LORD 🫨🫨

𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐘𝐨𝐮❜𝐫𝐞 𝐍𝐨 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐞

Summary ➳ Ever since Daryl and Merle joined you and the rest of the survivors, Shane believed that the brothers were no good and warned you to stay away. But you never had good hearing.

(A/n) ➳ This is gonna have multiple parts, I’m not a fan having multiple dividers used as time-skips. Take care of yourselves!!

Word Count ➳ 2.1k (There ain’t a lot of smut but I’ll make it up to you guys in the next part!)

Content Warnings ➳ Female Reader, mentions of death/killing, swearing, mentions of masturbation/masturbation (M), oral (F), cunilingus, fingering, pet names (baby), overstimulation…

Part 1 | Part 2 (Coming soon!!)

You often found your mind wandering ever since the outbreak, you struggled to believe what was happening was real. You tried to think positively and hoped that in the end, you would wake up from the nightmare. But there was no nightmare since there was no dream. The outbreak indeed happened and the world is in fucking shambles.

Even during the panic, you found it unbelievable, you refused to believe. It took your brother bruising your arm to drag you into the truck. And when Lori and Carl were put into the truck, Shane told you his belief of his friend’s demise. Another thing that you refused to believe and luckily, you didn’t change your view.

Shane stretched his arms as he stepped out of the tent, a groan leaving his lips. But he wasn’t the only one awake so early, you were as well.

You were folding the group’s clothes, but you were also looking at the tags of the men’s shirts the group had taken. You were ripping the sleeves off of those you deemed the right ones.

“What are you doin’?” Shane asked you, lifting an eyebrow as you ripped another sleeve. He had a good guess of who those were for.

“Daryl’s shirts are coated in sweat an’ dirt. There are holes in ‘em.” You replied, a harmless smile on your face. Shane knew that you were trying to do something good for him. “He needs new ones.”

Shane kneeled, taking your wrist to stop you. “Don’t you think he can do that himself?”

“But he’s out huntin’.” You pulled your wrist back.

“If he can make time for huntin’, he can make his shirts himself.” Shane snatched the rest of the shirts and pushed them to the side. “What are you doin’ up anyways?”

Your eyes looked away from his, fidgeting with the tag of Daryl’s shirt. Your dreams were plagued by nightmares, you wouldn’t go into detail, and you were happy that you forgot most of it.

Shane could see it in your eyes, he rubbed your back. “Don’t worry, we’re gonna get our home back.”

“Would we?” You mumbled, rolling your eyes.

“What was that?” Shane demanded to know. He grabbed your shoulders. “Say it again.”

“It’s gone, Shane. We have no home, there’s nothin’ to go back to.”

“Don’t you ever think like that.” Shane snapped. His voice was low yet gruff, showing how serious and angry he was. “We’re goin’ to get home. Understand?”

You looked away once more, nodding. Your ears caught the sound of Daryl panting, arguing with his brother to wake up and help him.

Shane moved his hands from your shoulder to brush back your hair. “Go back to your tent, get some rest.” Patting your back and taking the sleeveless shirts, his voice returning to normal. “And keep away from them. I shouldn’t have to remind you, again.”

You heard Shane speaking with Daryl, handing or shoving the shirts to his arms in trade for some of the game he caught. You also heard Shane taking credit for the work done for Daryl.

“I did ‘em. You smell like shit.” Shane was starting to piss you off. First telling you to keep away from people you were going to have to work with and then taking credit for work you did…

It was most likely midnight. You and Shane were the only ones sitting by the dying campfire. Georgia may be hot during the day but could be cold during the night.

Shane glanced around, he was cautious, making sure it was just the two of you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close. “Stay away from them. I shouldn’t be repeatin’ myself and I don’t like to.”

You knew Shane could be an asshole at times but deep down, he meant well. But it was harder to believe him each time when he wouldn’t give you a reason.

“All I am askin’ is an explanation.” You begged Shane. “Give me a reason.”

“Do I really need to explain myself?” Shane loudly sighed when you nodded immediately. “They are suspicious. I know we need every hand we can get but when it comes to them, to Merle. It’s obvious that they are plannin’ somethin’, somethin’ bad.”

“What does that have to do with Daryl? Or me?”

Shane was getting annoyed by your constant questions. He ran his fingers through his hair, nearly pulling them out. “Let me ask you this. Do you think Daryl will go out of his way to save you?”

“What if-”

“No ifs ands or buts. Answer it.” Shane said sternly, he didn’t need your response since your silence was your answer. “Daryl is only lookin’ out for his brother, he ain’t gonna be saving your dumbass unless you got somethin’ for him or Merle.”

“Don’t say that about him. Daryl is just misunderstood.”

A harsh laugh left his lips. “Jesus (Y/n), why are you tryin’? You are unbearably naive. Always having soft spots, like that damn dog. Watch, Daryl is gonna bring you down to his shit level, and when he does, I ain’t gonna be there to help your pathetic ass. You’re gonna be risking your life for people who don’t give a damn about yours.”

Tears stung your eyes, hurt by your brother’s words. And Shane could see it. “You’re my sister, the only family I have left. I won’t have you taken away from me because of them.”

You felt like a fish out of water, the way your mouth was opening and closing. It took you a good minute before you could finally speak. “The world has gone to shit Shane. We need each other to survive, we can’t be divided.”

“(Y/n)-”

“You gotta get rid of your black and white thinkin’. Find common ground with them, not draw a line in the dirt and spit on it.”

You pushed his arm off and stomped off, you must’ve looked like a child.

“(Y/n).” He called out to you, watching you walk off.

You sat on a random rock once. You knew your path back to camp, you remained close by, in case of an emergency.

You wiped your eyes, frustrated. You took deep breaths, running your hands up and down your thighs to stop you from completely sobbing.

“The hell you doin’ out ‘ere?” You flinched, snapping your head around just to see Daryl with a string of rabbits over his shoulder.

“I could say the same.” You grumbled, turning your head back around. “Why you huntin’ out so late?”

“None of yer damn business.” He countered rather harshly. “You gonna answer?”

You were ready to rant but Daryl was a man of few words, and he preferred it if people got to the point instead of wasting his time. “Shane and I fought. He’s a fuckin’ asshole.”

“...Wan’ me to kill ‘im?” He asked, loading his crossbow and hearing a click.

A faint smile crossed your face, holding in the snicker you had coming. “I thank you for your offer. But I’ll be alright. He’s probably stressed.”

“What’ver you say.” Daryl turned around and walked away, just in time for Shane to appear. He didn’t bother giving Shane a second look.

“Still havin’ a hard time deciding if I’m real or not?” Rick asked, taking the water you handed him.

“No, I made up my mind when Shane told me. I knew your stubborn ass would come out sooner or later.” You laughed as well as Rick. You laid your head on his shoulder, sitting by the dead campfire with him.

Comfortable silence overcame you both, but Rick had questions. Especially when he hadn’t seen you and Shane speak, even when he returned.

“Shane… What happened?”

“Shane… He doesn’t think that the brothers are good.” You replied. “I understand where he’s comin’ from but Daryl’s different.”

“Talk to him often?”

“Not really.”

Rick sighed. “You’re too kind, one day that will come back an’ haunt you.”

Rick left the conversation at that, leaving you with your thoughts. You were stuck. You couldn’t focus and you didn’t want to be around your brother.

You joined Daryl despite his protest and annoyance. He allowed you to follow, even more when he learned that never shot a gun before when the topic of weapons came up.

“Don’t be lookin’ tense.” Daryl commented, his hand coming to your wrist. “Yer holdin’ it too tight, relax yer damn grip.”

You mumbled an apology, doing your best to take his advice. But after a couple of minutes of remaining tense, Daryl took away the gun. “That’s it, what’s on yer mind?”

“E’cuse me?”

“I ain’t gonna risk our food on you unable to shoot a damn gun.” You rolled your eyes. “Yer shit brother?”

You grumbled, cursing Shane under your breath. “I rather not think about it.”

“Yer gonna have to find a way to deal with yer shit if you ain’t gonna talk.”

“Like what? Takin’ care of myself?”

Daryl shrugged. “Probably.”

“What am I supposed to do here? Not much to take care of myself with.” You motioned to the trees that surrounded the two of you.

“Perfect place to jerk one out though. Quick and easy-”

“E’cuse me?” You repeated, a little louder this time.

“How many times you gonna say e’cuse me?” He horribly mimicked your voice. “The way ya lookin’ at me shows that you hadn’t done it.”

“I have.” You huffed but Daryl lifted his eyebrow. “I-It’s just- it’s difficult. I can’t do it when I know people are around or gonna be lookin’ for me. I don’t wanna be embarrassed.”

“Haven’t ya learned to do it quickly?”

“No… But are you willin’ to help?”

Daryl gave you a confused look. “Thought yer brother didn’t want you ‘round me? Would ya think he’d approve of this? Me touchin’ ya?”

“Who gives a damn what he thinks? He can’t decide what I want.”

He placed his crossbow against a tree and crossed his arms. “Ya gonna give somethin’ in return?” You nodded hastily. “Then take yer damn pants off.”

Your fingers pulled on his sandy blonde hair, taking gasps of air as you felt his tongue lapping all of your juices. How long has it been? An hour or two? How many orgasms have you had? You weren’t even going to try and count them all.

He kept a tight hold on your hips, he pulled you back whenever you pulled away. He had you laid against the dirt, feeling the pebbles and sticks poking at your back and head stopped bothering you when all you could think about was clouded.

Daryl remained between your legs, your thighs clenching around his head, the wetness covering the lower half of his face. His tongue danced around your folds and clit.

Daryl shifted his position, he kneeled, giving him a perfect view of your flushed body. A layer of sweat across your open skin, an arm thrown over your eyes and your other hand was no longer pulling at his hair but gripping a patch of patch.

He dipped one finger into your cunt, feeling you squeeze around him, making him add another. He slid his fingers in and out, fucking you quickly.

His other hand reached to unbuckle his belt, unzipping his fly and freeing himself. He jerked himself off using precum as a kind of lubricate. Each stroke of his cock was matched by the pace he was fingering you.

Above the wet sounds of your cunt, he could hear the soft moans leaving your mouth. His breathing fell into an unsteady pace alongside an occasional groan from the back of his throat.

Both of his arms were burning, moving faster than to what he was normally used to. A painful shiver ran through him, he was coming.

Another painful bolt. There was a hint of pleasure, but there was a different feeling. “H-Hold on-” Your back arched off the ground, a gasp cutting you off. “I think-”

He curled his fingers and repeatedly hit your g-spot. “C’mom baby, c’mom baby.” He repeated under his breath, twisting his fingers and scissored them inside of you.

You swore loudly, feeling the sudden release, squirting all over Daryl’s hand and pants. Daryl tossed his head back, leating out a strained fuck though his teeth. You felt his hot cum spill over your cunt, your arm moved away from your face and looked at Dary through your hazed eyes.

Daryl gave a couple of more pumps, stopping both of his hands. You gasped when his fingers pulled out, you could see the mess you made. “I didn’t mean-”

“Don’ worry ‘bout it.” Daryl chuckled, bringing his fingers to his lips, licking off the remaining juices on them. “Feelin’ better?”

You nodded, panting. “Very.”

“Good, ‘cause you still owe me.”

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission.

I FOUND TREASURE OMFGSJ THIS IS AMAZING TY FOR UR SERVICE 😫🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

GROWN UPS 💋 (18+)

summary: “Ya’ really think tha’ bothers me? ‘M a grown ass man, woman. Ain’t ever afraid of a lil’ hair”

era: pre-negan alexandria

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slightly submissive daryl x female reader (the juicy shit: unprotected sex, rough sex, riding, biting, choking, hair pulling, pet names (Darling, sugar, allthat), cunnalings, cumming untouched)

Disclaimer(s): This is not only my first tumblr post, this is my first x reader so forgive me if its bad </3

Considering that I am a black writer I want everyone to be included in the wonderous x reader experience which is why I have some drafts with neutral appearances and plus size so stay tuned if youre interested babe <3

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“Hold on there, big guy. Take your shoes off” A giggle rested on your lips as you watch Daryl huff and haphazardly toe his boots off, keeping his hands firm on your hips. As soon as his socked feet were on the ground, his lips landed back ontop of yours, licking deep into your mouth.

He had been out on a run for what felt like weeks, even though it was only a few days. After dropping off his findings to Rick, he went straight to find you.

Daryl’s hands roamed and groped your body like a starved man, grunting and moaning into your mouth. He had you pinned right against the wall in the living room, pressing your bodies as closely together as he could.

He practically had you trapped there, holding you in place as his kiss swollen lips began sucking and biting at your exposed throat, pulling breathy moans from your chest. One of his strong hands slid up your shirt to grab a handful of boob, which he squeezed through your lacey bra.

You so badly wanted to take this session upstairs where you know you’ll get your core guts rearranged, however for the past few days you’ve been having a small insecurity, and that was your recent lack of shaving.

Even though you are in the middle of an apocalypse and razors have become a lot more scarce, it still made you feel a little bad about yourself, considering you did have thicker hair down there. As these negative thoughts began to cloud your mind, you started to get turned off, absent mindedly humming under your boyfriend’s touch. You didn’t want him to think that you were gross.

He took note of this and withdrew his hand from under your shirt, and brought it up to your face, redirecting your focus onto his face. “Ya’ alright there, plum?” Part of you wanted to say yes, but your head was already shaking no. “I’m sorry it’s just…” His blue eyes stared into yours, patiently wanting for your response. “I haven’t been able to shave in a while” You mumbled, tearing your eyes away to try and ease the embarrassment you felt.

After a few moments of silence Daryl scoffed, as if he just processed that you were being serious. He stared at your face for what felt like forever until he finally tilted your head back to look at him, studying your face closely. “Ya’ really think tha’ bothers me? ‘M a grown ass man, woman. Ain’t ever afraid of a lil’ hair” His voice was raspy and dark as he spoke, and oh, how you loved yourself a bold man.

His words shot straight down your core and to your cunt, which had began to throb again. With his words still fresh in your head, you pulled him by the collar up the stairs to your room, where you would get exactly what you wanted.

You swung your door open and slammed it shut, giggles and moans falling from your lips as Daryl scooped you up and dropped you onto the bed, ready to continue his earlier attacks on your body. This time around, he took your shirt completely off, frowning at your bra. “Quit pouting. Help get my pants off and I’ll undo my bra” You spoke as you readjusted yourself to grab at the hooks, while Daryl tore your pants off your long legs, hands immediately going for you underwear. “Nope. Your mouth is gonna be real busy tonight, since you’re such a man” Daryl smirked as he settled his hands obediently on your hips before he hooked his teeth onto the waistband of your panties and pulled them down, taking them out his mouth and stuffing them in his back pocket. “Fer later” He said as he looked at the amused look on your face. “I’m confused why you’re talking and not eating me out” Daryl licked his lips as he pulled your legs further apart, eyeing your hairy cunt for a bit longer than you’d like. He on the other hand was enjoying the amazing view.

He tightly gripped your hips and pulled them upwards, giving your clit a wet lick as he deeply inhaled your natural scent. It was so intoxicating to him as he really started to go down, licking and sucking at your clit. His spit trickled down and mixed with your slick, and he began to tease your fluttering hole with his finger. Your bottom lip was caught harshly between your teeth, as moans rumbled from your chest, some being a little higher than others. You moaned especially loud when two thick fingers began sliding in and out of you, curling into your sweet spot and scissoring open.

Daryl himself was painfully hard in his pants and had been working up to his own orgasm, as he literally couldn’t get enough of you. The feel of your skin under his burning palm, the taste of your wet cunt on his tongue, cheeks turning red from a combination of pleasure and your pubic hair rubbing against him. It was so overwhelming for him, as his dick twitched harshly in his pants. Pathetically, he began to grind down on the mattress, groaning erotically against you as he did. Your plump thighs tightened around his head when his relentless attack on your clit became stronger, his tongue hardening up against the bundle of nerves. “Fuck my baby that feels so good” Your fingers tangled in his brown locks, tugging at his scalp in a way you knew he liked.

Little did you know your short tugs would throw him over the edge, body trembling roughly as his cock throbbed in its confinement, shooting ropes of cum in his boxers. His moans vibrated against you, and you could feel yourself nearing the edge, unaware of your boyfriends situation. You had started to grind down on his tongue and fingers, legs tightening and shaking as you climbed to your peak, moaning lewdly when you tumbled over.

Daryl pulled off you, and his face was a wet deep red mess. His hair was disheveled and your eyes landed on the dark spot in the front of his jeans. “Would you like some help with that sweetheart? How pathetic that you came from only eating me out” You tugged him forward by his vest collar, which you prompted him to take off. Your hands moved to unbuckle his pants as he leaned down to kiss you, the taste of yourself still lingering heavy on his tongue. You tossed the belt onto the floor and yanked at his pants. “Are ya tha eager ta see me naked, darlin?” A smug smile landed on his face as he kicked the offending piece of fabric off, spoiled underwear following suit.

When your eyes landed on his thick cock, engorged tip looking just so damn sensitive, you nodded your head as your dark gaze stared into his. “Get on your back” You placed your hands on his shoulders as you rolled him over, straddling his strong hips and leaning over the bed to snatch his belt up. “Hands.” Your snapped the leather in your hands, staring down into his core. Holy hell did he love it. He loved the feeling of you tightening his own belt around his wrists and pinning them above the headboard by wrapping the extra leather around a post. He was an absolute sight for only you.

Your mouth watered as you stared down at your man, who was on complete display for you to gawk at, as you ran a lean hand up his chest, capturing his lips in yours before slamming down onto his cock, high gasp coming from him as his swollen tip bumped your cervix suddenly. You were only getting started as you placed both hands on his chest, grinding your hips skillfully and bouncing steeply, pulling yourself back down when he was only half way out.

It drove you both crazy, Daryl even more so as you kept saying dirty things to him in an alluring tone. He had a brief thought that you were some type of sex demon attempting to fuck his soul out, to which it was definitely working.

Daryl couldn’t keep his head up to watch the pornographic way you were riding him, his hands had began to tug at their restraint.

“Does that feel good baby? I wish you would look at me so I can tell” He whimpered in response, eyes rolling back when you increased your pace. Your fingers traveled up into the front of his hair, which you tugged forward to raise his head. The action went straight to his dick. Your fingers trailed out his hair and down his face, back down his chest.

“Keep your eyes on me, my sweet. Do you feel good?” You tilted your head as you ground you hips down, his dick blissfully bumping your sweet spot. “S’ so good, please let me touch you, sugar, please?” His voice sounded weak and pathetic to his own ears, but it went straight to your cunt, smile creeping on your lips. “Earn it. My poor legs are tired.” You cooed, making a pouty face at him as you rocked slowly back and fourth. “Gonna pound ya’ from underneath, ‘mma make ya’ feel real good” His senseless babbling encited a moan from you, especially when he planted his feet on the bed and lifted his hips, immediately started a rough pace.

He was so desperate to fuck the shit out you. As he panted heavily, watching intently as he quickly slid in and out of you. He had been so focused that he didn’t feel you undoing his restraints until his hands were guided to fat hips which he gripped tightly and flipped you onto your stomach, lifting your hips up before ramming back in, one hand going up the headboard to steady himself. Even with the position he had you in he still felt compiled to do what you say, deep whimpers falling each time his sensitive tip roughly bumped inside you.

From where his hand was on the headboard, it had began to slam into the wall at the same harsh pace as his hips, which he angled up to hit your sweet spot and slide that much deeper. Fuck, he was starting to become dizzy with pleasure. Your erotic moans filled his ear as he leaned down over you, burying his face in your neck to inhale your strong smell, somehow increasing his pace. “Daryl baby I’m so close… you make me feel so fucking good” You mumbled into the comforter, the hot sounds of your boyfriend’s breath and the banging headboard filling your ears. A calloused finger trailed down your stomach and rubbed your clit in quick circles, Daryl’s strained voice right in your ear. “Cum fer me, darlin’ please let me make you feel real good, fuck- please” You could tell he was much closer to the edge than you, his voice had raised by an octave, his strokes had gotten short yet stronger, and he was practically panting like a dog. You reached a hand back and yanked his hair harder than you intended, crashing your lips together. You felt your bodies shake as Daryl’s strokes had become sloppy as his second orgasm hit him like a fucking truck. It was so strong that he couldn’t help but pull away and release a harsh whine that burned in his chest. Your own release had you pulling Daryl back down for a kiss, harshly biting his bottom lip. His finger slowed to a stop on your overly sensitive clit.

When you pulled away, it felt like you couldn’t get enough oxygen, breathing heavily as Daryl rolled onto his back groaning as he pulled his soft cock out. Your hips landed on the fluffy comforter and Daryl’s cum had started to leak out of you, heating your sweaty face a little more.

After a few minutes, you felt soft lips on your back and a warm towel between your legs, followed by Daryl climbing back into bed and pulling the covers over you, wrapping big arms around your lower back as he pulled you closer. Laughter rose from you chest as he peppered you in kisses. “Told ya’ ‘m a man” He mumbled sleepily, and you scoffed. “My big strong adult man” you kissed his chest, and he hummed, already falling asleep. In the back of your head, you made a mental note to check the damage done that was done to the wall in the morning.

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A/N: this was way longer than i intended it to be but i hope y’all enjoyed!! <33

I’ve been thinking about this for like two days, and I need y’all to tell me in detail what you think.

Do you guys think Daryl likes long nails/acrylics,painted or just short ones? I need some detailed opinions from y’all cuz I can’t think🙁🙏

(Using all kinds of tags to get awnsers cuz I’m desperate)

Disguises

Pt. 2

~~~~~~~~~

You had been with the Savior's since they had begun. It was hard not to be when their leader is your older brother. You were ashamed that you could barely have a friendship without Negan breathing down your shoulder, but as you looked around the empty cafeteria, you decided that the silence wasn’t that bad. Turning your head as you bit into your leftover apple, you jumped at the banging that echoed off the staircases railing. Sighing, you turned the way, getting ready to scold Negan for being loud again. A surprised smile crossed your face as Simon waved at you with the wrench in his hand. 

“Was that necessary, Simon?”

“It absolutely was, princess!”

You stood from your seat with a sigh, shaking your head at the nickname you had warned Simon not to call you. Reaching the staircase, you smacked Simon on the arm before you sprinted up them as he shouted at you in indignation. Having made it up the stairs to the hallway, you rested your hands on your knees as you took deep breaths. Gosh I am so out of shape, you think before you hear footsteps pounding towards you.  Turning your head while you straightened your posture, you watched Simon run towards you with his hands outstretched to grab you. You laughed loudly for a solid two heartbeats before you turned on your heel and ran towards your older brothers office, knowing he would protect you from Simons tickling hands. 

“You’ll never get me~!”, you shouted over your shoulder as you kept running as fast as you could. 

“I wouldn’t count on it, Princess!”, Simon called back to you as he slowed his steps.

Still looking back at Simon, you furrowed your eyebrows when he slowed to a casual walk. A gasp left your lips as you bumped into a solid mass, your hands flying out to steady yourself against it.

“I thought I made it very fucking clear that running was no longer fucking allowed in the hallways.”

You slowly glanced at the person you had run into do despite your thoughts of who it might be. Meeting Negan's eyes, you let a small apology smile take up its usual place your lips. 

“We weren’t running, Negan! We were...walking...like normal people who follow the rules.” 

Your lips formed a pout as your older brother stared at you, not once believing that you weren’t running when he had seen you running since you caught your breath. Shaking his head, Negan placed a hand your head, patting it like you were your childhood dog. You shook him off angrily with crossed arms before a pair wrapped around your waist from behind, Simons voice whispering directly into your ear.

“Got you, princess.”

Glaring at your older brother, you started wiggling in Simons unfairly strong arms with a squeal. Negan laughs at your attempts as he walks towards the end of the hallway, turning back to watch you laugh in Simons hold. He furrows his eyebrows before he disappears from your sights, leaving you to escape Simon and his tickles.

An hour later, after more running and failed attempts of escaping Simon, you both laid on your queen sized bed panting from the exertion. Turning your head to Simon, you pouted at him.

“That was completely unfair!”

You watched as he turned onto side, his beautiful eyes staring into your e/c ones. You mentally shook yourself, you couldn’t ever fall for Simon or your older brother would have both your heads.

“It wasn’t unfair, you’re just too fucking easy to catch and keep still.”

A sigh passed your lips as you thought back to the times you were grossly overweight. When the world had gone to shit, your only choice was to fix your issues or die. You chose to change yourself and even if the apocalypse, you learnt to love yourself and the world... minus the walkers.

“Its not MY fault! You’re too strong! It’s your fault!” 

Simon shook his head at you, your pout growing as a smile settled on his lips. You nodded back at him as you dropped your pout, setting your sights on his arms with a glare. As you stared at his arms, you tuned out everything around you and you began creating fantasies inside your head about how it would feel for Simon to pin you against the wall, his strong arms caging you in. His pillow lips pushing against yours in haste. A strong, veiny hand wrapping itself around your small neck...

“-and you aren’t listening.”

Simons voice pulled you out of your fantasies and a blush covered your cheeks while his laugh filled the room. He rolled himself off your bed as you began spluttering, trying to find an excuse to tell him. He waved his hands in-front of you to stop your ramblings.

“I was just saying we should get goin’ before your fucking brother comes knocking the door down and then my head in.”

You sat upright in a flash, your eyes widening as you remembered you had to accompany Negan, Simon, Dwight and some random Saviors on an ambush mission. You mumbled an apology towards Simon as knocking started on the door. Your hands waved frantically between Simon and the door, nodding your thanks once he got the hint and opened it for you as began pulling off your clothes.

“Well fuck, princess. I didn’t even have to pay for the show!”

You rolled your eyes and threw up your middle finger towards the door, pulling on your black ripped jeans.

“Ha ha, Dwight. Shut up and tell me why you’re here.”

Simon laughed at Dwight's misfortune, a cough covering his laughter as he put on a straight face. You saw Dwight send him a glare before your shirt was over your eyes. When your white t-shirt was in place, you stood with crossed arms, waiting for the scarred man to explain himself. He caught on quickly and you hid a smirk as he stumbled over his words momentarily before he gathered himself. 

“Negan was becoming pissed off that his little baby sister wasn’t by his yet and his right-hand man was missing as well. I was sent to find you, Y/N, but I found both of you instead.”

You rubbed a hand over your forehead as you nodded. You had been expecting a lackey to come search for you on orders from Negan, you were just glad it hadn’t been Gavin. He was a creep. One you never wanted to deal with again. Reaching over to grab your leather jacket, knife and gun, you slung your jacket on and attached your weapons to your hip as you walked past the two men who stood staring at you. Once you were out the door, you looked over shoulder when you noticed the men weren’t moving. Heaving a sigh, you called out,

“Hurry up, oglers! It wouldn’t do to keep my brother waiting any longer~” 

Running a hand through your h/c hair, you laughed silently to yourself before Simon caught up to you and swept you up onto his back. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you stayed on Simons back until he was stopped in-front of Negan, a raised eyebrow greeting you as you lifted your head from Simons shoulder.

“Took you three fucking long enough! Hurry up now, assholes! Don’t just stand there! We got some new pigs to scare into order!”

Your eyes rolled as you followed Negan to his truck, Simon directly behind you as Saviors scrambled to gather weapons and make sure everything was in order. It was time to play, and when Negan wanted to “play”. He did.

Attention Pt. 2

Pt. 1 

~~~~~~~~~~~

When you and Rosita finally moved, it was towards the gates under the now dull seeming moon. The two watching the gate seemed hesitant after seeing your tears, but a solid glare from Rosita had the gate opening. The two of you wandered out with an almost urgent walk, ears already perked for the groans of the dead. Words were definitely not required, the hug speaking for enough of your emotions. You had both lost someone, multiple people you loved in a span of a few hours. 

It was a lot of emotional turmoil but with everything being calmer in a few days time, everyone should be feeling a little better. You firmly believed in that thought even though there was a nagging feeling in the back of your mind. The gravel road crunched under your feet as you both walked in silence. Words felt almost wrong at this point, the sadness becoming palpable enough that when a lone walker roamed from the tree line and towards you two, you stood there and watched it. No knives drawn, just heavy eyes watching the rotting man stumble at you. 

You only jumped into action when the groans finally registered and Rosita walked forward in an almost drunk state. Your hunting knife in hand, you trudged up to the walker and sunk the blade into its soft skull. Its body fell limply to the ground and you stared down at it, Rosita being the one to snap out of it and drag it out of the main road. She made her way in front of you afterwards and grabbed your shoulders.

“There’s an old Costco warehouse a few miles down. Let’s go.”

You nodded with a muttered ‘okay’ as you began the walk that you could only imagine was going to be ankle pain inducing. Though you never minded the extra motivation to get back to Alexandria as soon as possible, you knew that coupled with the emotional pain it would be grueling. As Rosita walked to your right, you kept glancing to your left to keep an eye out for more possible lone walkers. Rosita kept watch of the right while you trudged along the winding roads.

The pair of you got close to the warehouse in about an hour, deciding that running would be good for you both. Reaching the gate surrounding the  building, you scanned it quickly for any breaks in the fence. After you had found none and had told Rosita who had also found none, you both climbed over it as quietly as possible. It wasn’t the best way to get in as it proved an issue for getting out but you were both quick on your feet so you both brushed it off. 

You found an unlocked door around the back of the building, a few walkers trying to chew off your arm only to be met with a swift plunge of your knife into its head. Rosita opened the door as you kept watch around the warehouse, watching for anything suspicious. Seeing nothing immediate you turned and followed Rosita into the building, propping the door open slightly with a metal bar that she had found by the door.  You looked around as soon as you entered, the interior being large and echo inducing. You made eye contact with Rosita and agreed to search together, the risk of trouble while alone in such a large space would be disastrous. 

The two of you walked to the left of the building, eyes scanning the boxes you passed on the way. You would get back to them later but you were still curious. Your curiosity proved helpful when you saw a box of backpacks, pulling Rosita over to open it and pull out the Reebok bags. You both had two on your shoulders and one in a hand while your knives was in the other. Continuing along your original path, you reached the very left side of the place and began opening boxes without looking at what they were. The left side proved to hold tools, pet toys, kitchen appliances and outdoor furniture. Rosita started laughing at you when you pulled a foldable camping chair from its box and then its bag, jumping a few inches the air when it snapped itself open with force. 

After your laughing fest and gathering some tools and kitchen appliances that could easily fit in a backpack, you began making your way to the right side of it. With the results from the very left side being disappointing and the boxes closer to the middle providing non-helpful cook books and pet food as well as cat litter, you and Rosita began to dread the right side. On the way over you both collected some children’s and baby toys for the younger ones at Alexandria. Coming across a few boxes of sex toys had you both doubling over in laughter when Rosita tried to sneakily put a dildo into one of her bags, you grabbing one and smacking her ass with it while shoving one in your own bag. 

Quickly escaping from the boxes of dicks, you made your way to the right side...officially. Reaching it was the best day of your life, the shelves chalk full of candy and bars of all kind as well as alcohol. You and Rosita jumped at each other in happiness, a few single serve bottles of vodka being downed by each of you as you shoved bags of jelly beans, chocolate and dried fruit into one bag. That alone filled a whole backpack to the point of barely being able to close any of the zippers. Rosita did the same, hers filled with the variety of alcohol. You both shoved protein bars and granola bars into your third bag, the empty boxes littering the floor around you both. 

All of your bags now full to the brim of cans and things had you both sighing and searching for children’s wagons to carry more than the backpacks. Finding large ones, large enough to hold you and Rosita as you used curtain rods to race down an aisle of shelving, you filled two each with the backpacks, Rosita running and grabbing more to maximize storage capabilities. Bottle of alcohol filled the gaps between bags filled to the brim with food and smaller things like toothpaste, toothbrushes, Advil, makeup, antiperspirant, some allergy pills and razors for shaving. The wagons squeaked along the floor from too much pressure in some places, making you copy them in annoyance as you both downed an old Pepsi, remembered period materials for the ladies, ran to get them, packed in lots and lots of everything and then left the building.

The sun was just beginning to rise as you walked outside with the wagons, you leaving yours to cut a hole large enough for the wagons in the fence with clippers you had found. You guessed you had wasted away at least 5 hours in the warehouse, the two of you maybe taking a nap and having some... lots of... the candy you had uncovered as well as wagon racing and casual conversations while sat on a porch swing that you had put together to surprise your friend. You may have gotten tipsy with Rosita, a few kisses being given to foreheads here and there, hands being held and makeup being used wrong. 

Thinking back on it made you smile as you squeezed through the gate and lead one of the wagons along as well. Rosita pushed one out to you after you stationed one to the side, this process going until Rosita was the one going through the fence and tying it up with zip ties as well as a chain with a few master locks here and there that you now wore the keys to on your neck. You both dragged the wagons behind you with some trip ups here and there from downhill roads that gave the wagons too much speed which caused them to bump into your ankles. 

You had red ankles by the time you reached the gates of Alexandria again, the lookouts looking very shaken as they opened the door after you waved to them happily. The adamant conversation you were having with Rosita continued as you walked through the gates, your laughter echoing until Rositas whole body language changed. Her shoulders tensed and her face became angry, her hands twitching on the handles of the wagons. You watched her in confusion until you heard Rick call out to you and your attention shifted. 

“Y/N...”, his voice was shaky, teary and it almost sounded like he was about to tell you that your childhood beta fish had died again. 

You were so hyper focused on your dad speaking that you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. You looked over Rosita one last time in confusion, hugging her quickly before sprinting to your dad after dropping the handles with a clunk against the road. 

“Dad! Are you ok?! I was so worried. I’m so sorry I left without telling you, we just needed some time for ourselves... we found lots of good stuff! We’re gonna be ok. I promise. I’ll personally go back and collect more when we need it! I-”

“Y/N...”

You looked confused as he didn’t reach out to hug you like he normally would, you brushed it off though as you hugged him tightly, spotting Carl standing not too far back watching you with surprise. You gave Rick a kiss on the cheek and pulled a rolled up comic book from your pocket as you made your way to your little brother. 

“Hey you little weirdo. I got you a comic book. And there’s a lot more too so you’ll never be short of them.”, you smack Carl over the head with it as you gave him a hug, his hands wrapping around you as he stayed stoic, not showing any emotion past the slight smile he sent you after you handed the comic to him.

You turned back to say more to Rick when you finally noticed big trucks inside the gates, around 50 or so people staring you down. You cleared you throat and shuffled awkwardly to your dad, whispering loudly to him in confusion.

“Dad... what the actual fuck?”

Noticing he wasn’t answering and glancing towards someone just out of view, you glanced over and froze. The man stood there with a cocky smirk on his face was staring straight at you, not even bothering to hide it in the slightest. His leather jacket hung off his broad shoulders perfectly, the white t-shirt a nice contrast to the dark leather, his jeans hugging thighs like they were about to pop off of him with a single step. What caught your attention was the baseball bat covered in barbed wire sitting in his hand while his other was stroking the salt and pepper beard on his chin. 

You made eye contact with him until shuffling caught your attention and you glanced over. You could tell that the man clearly leading these people was going to say something, but your gasp cut him off. Seeing Daryl in dirty, baggy clothes and in no shoes with his hair super greasy as he stood between two large men made tears come to your eyes when he made eye contact with you. The desperation in his eyes made you forget your surrounding as you sprinted towards him.

“Daryl!”, you were stopped short in your journey a few feet in front of him as someone grabbed you around the waist and dragged you back in front of the man with the baseball bat. 

You struggled against the man the entire time, your feet kicking in the air as you pushed at the strong arms holding you. When your feet were on the ground you waited for a minute, staring intently at the ground until someone cleared your throat. Then you ran. Catching Daryl up in a giant hug, you sobbed into his shoulder as he held you gently, a hand cradling your face as you leaned into it. The eye contact was intense with emotions as he leaned in and kissed you gently, your hands gently holding onto the back of his head as you kissed him back. 

It was cut short when you were ripped away from him again, your feet flailing as you were carried over again.

“Put me down! You great big barbarian! Put me down so I can kiss my boyfriend!”

The man holding you just chuckled as you struggled helplessly, holding you still in front of the boss man again. You glared at the arms around you until they moved with a “C’mon now Simon, let the lady stand.” from his apparent boss. You brushed yourself off and looked at Daryl again but your vision was blocked by the man you guessed to be Simon, his bulging muscles giving him away. You gave up trying to get another look at Daryl and looked up at the leather clad man.

“What? Never seen a girl before? I wouldn’t be surprised.”

You heard a few people gasp loudly at your comment but he just laughed at it and held out his hand. 

“Hello there, darlin. I’m Negan. Who might you fuckin be?”

As you grasped his hand out of habit, you saw his smile grow bigger.

“Y/N... Y/N Grimes.”

Disguises pt. 2

Pt. 1

~~~~~~~

Time flew by as you heard reports coming through on the walkie talkies, your own on the dash of the truck. 

“They’re headed south, just as we suspected boss.”

Negan smirked at you and Simon as he responded with a curt ‘good’ before the trucks engine was started again and the pedal was pushed to the floor.

“Here we fuckin go!”

Panic ran through your nerves as you clutched onto Simons thigh with your older brother laughing his ass off at your pain.

“This isn’t funny! You could’ve run us off the road and attracted more walkers!”

Negan just shook his head and slowed down enough for your to see an RV headed straight for where you were now parked. You furrowed your eyebrows and chanced a look at Simon. His eyes were focused on the RV but he had his hands ready and waiting on his walkie talkie and gun.

“Ready boys?”

The walkie talkie crackled with an affirmative response before yelling filled your ears with more gunshots. You sighed in annoyance as Negan grabbed your small hand in his large one and pulled you gently from the truck. You glanced up at him when you felt him lean down, 

“How do you like our new ride, oh sister dear?”

You didn’t respond. You had no need too, and you were going in that RV one way or another. You shook your head and began the small trek towards it, your eyes set on the man with a mullet who was on his knees to the side.

“What’s his deal?”

You paused your walk and nudged a random savior, nodding to the man.

“New little fuckin pig!”

Your head turns to see your brother swinging Lucille at his side while the man on the ground cowers away in fear. 

A hand rubs your forehead as you turn your head the other way to look around for Simon. Not seeing him, you frown and walk to the RV. Glancing around inside you shrug and take a seat at the table. You drummed your fingers on the table while you waited for Negan to join you with whoever would be driving. You jumped in your seat when the door slammed open and bounced off the counter as Negan sauntered in and sat across from you. He winked your way as you stared out the window, a small smile gracing your lips at his wink.

“Let’s get this show on the road!”

A couple minutes passed as you stared out the window in the parked RV, the casual chatter as preparations were being finished greeted your ears when you tuned back in to the world.

“How long until they get here?”

Negan chuckled and reached over to pat your hand which lay on the table,

“Any minute now. Don’t you worry.”

As he finished his sentence, you heard shuffling outside and Simons voice ringing out in the clearing,

“All right! We got a full boat! Let’s meet the man.”

Two knocks sound on the side of the RV and your heart drops as your eyes dart to meet Negan's.

“No killing?”

“You know I can’t tell ya that, Y/N. These sorry shits are unpredictable. Buckle up and wait for your que. You’re the ‘nice’ one, so act like it. I don’t like ordering you around, but for this, it’s important it all goes to plan.”

You sigh and stand to hug your brother as he lets out a sigh to accompany yours. A kiss planted on your forehead has you out of view from the open door even though you know they can’t see much past a certain distance. 

Your back slams against the seat as you kick your legs up and listen to Negan give his usual speech.

“Pissin our pants yet? Boy do I have a feeling we’re getting close.”

You hear his confident walk forwards as you close your eyes, feeling the anger you know is on at least three of the faces outside the RV.

“Yep. Gonna be pee-pee pants city in here real soon!”

Your eyes rolled as you heard the fake glee behind his elongated ‘L’.

“Which one of you pricks is the leader?”

One of the men shuffles forward and you hear a grunt as he tells your brother,

“It’s this one. He’s the guy.”

You sigh as you hear an exaggerated sigh from Negan and a small huff leaves your lips as you realize your sighs were synced. You stand slowly as you hear Simon whisper over the walkie talkie for you to be ready to walk outside.

“Hi. You’re Rick, right? I’m Negan.”

Your hands run nervously through your hair and you sigh, bouncing in your spot. Your shaky hands pick up the walkie talkie and you sigh into it quietly. 

“And I do not appreciate you killing my men! Also, when I sent more people to kill your people, you killed more of my people.”

You shake your head and press on the walkie talkie buttons, 

“Simon, I don’t feel good ‘bout this one.”

“I know, but your brother calls the shots. It’s too late now.”

You toss the walkie onto the table and straighten your jacket to calm your nerves. You double check your holsters for your knife and gun while you tie your shirt into a small knot above your belt.

“Not cool. Not cool. You have no idea how not cool that shit is. But I think you’re gonna be up to speed shortly.”

One last sigh leaves your lips as you steel your nerves and set your game face. Another run through of your hair with your hand and the door swings open.

“Yeah. You are so gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes.”

Negan chuckles as he swings Lucille around in front of the group while you step from the RV into the area beside him. You cock your hip out and cross your arms, looking up and down the line of people, taking each one of them in. 

“You see Rick, whatever you do, you do not mess with the new world order.”

Your e/c eyes take in the confusion on the groups faces as they stare at you, you smirk at a few and watch as their eyes switch between your brother and you for a few seconds with realization filling their scared faces.

“Ah. See, now I realize that my sister here is a stunning sight, but I am the one talking. You look at me when I talk to you!”

You shake your head at your brother and place a hand on his arm,

“Hey, hey. They’ve been through a lot.”

You say condescendingly as you glance down the line again, absorbing the sight of the bulky redhead kneeled proudly and sitting tall, the kid with an eyepatch sitting up tall with no emotion on his face, the dirty man curled on the ground in a blanket with blood soaking through it. Your eyes stop on the woman who's curled over, pale as a ghost and sweating missiles. Concern fills you as you look at her, your façade dropping when you realize her arms are around her stomach.

“Negan.”

You whisper towards your brother as you frantically pat his arm, Simon walking to grab Lucille without instruction as he grabs both your arms to calm you down.

“Hey. Shh. Breathe.”

Your mouth moves with no words coming out of it, your eyes flickering between both of his in a panic.

“She’s- She- you can’t...”

Negan shakes you and blows in your face as you recoil, coughing and taking deep breaths as you rest your head on his chest. You straighten up and gather your emotions, signing to Simon to get you a water bottle.

“Sorry. Sorry. Girl stuff, y’know?”

You hear a laugh leave someone and you turn to the people with a smile on your face before your eyes land on the sickly woman and tears fill your eyes.

“What’s your name?”

You ask the woman in a gentle voice, handing Negan your waist holster to show that you mean no harm. You wait for Simon to hand you the water bottle as you crouch and make your way to the girl.

“Here, please. Drink some. You need it more than any of us and I promise it’s a completely fresh bottle. Look..”

You sit down on the ground in front of her and twist open the bottle, the snap of the seal breaking ringing through the clearing before you reach for her hand slowly and pass her the bottle. As she drinks slowly, you watch as Rick stares holes into the side of your face. You turn towards him and send him a small, regretful smile. A furrowed brow and small frown is all you get in return before he turns away. 

“M-maggie.”

Your head snaps to Maggie as she coughs roughly, your hand going to her back immediately to calm her. You say a thank you as you stare back at Negan for a moment and he immediately knows what you’re remembering. A few years before the apocalypse, you had had a husband with plans for a family and nice future in the country. Your plans went to shit when your husband died in a car crash and you lost your baby in the same accident. 

“I’m Y/N. Do you need anything? Where’s hurting most? Does anyone know if she's dilated?”

You look left and right at her companions and see heads shaking ‘no’. You close your eyes and let out a long sigh. Turning back to Maggie who was sat cowering away from your touch, you whisper soft ‘hey’s’ as she whimpers and groans.

“Did we bring anything medical? Any scissors, alcohol, pain killers, morphine? Bandages?”

You stand quickly and list things out to a savior, Negan clenching his jaw as he puts a hand on your shoulder. You stare him down as he does to you, his eyes conveying his dislike for you trying to help the people who caused a lot of trouble for the two of you. 

“Please. You know why. This is the only time I’ve ever wanted to help two of them. It’ll be the last and then we can keep the speech going and carry on. But she’s nearing critical condition.”

You  whispered to him as you felt the hundreds of eyes on you as you begged your brother to help them out some. Confusion radiated from a few of them, Rick being the one who gave off the strongest waves. Glancing at him and then at Maggie and the man in the blanket shivering on the ground, Negan sighs and snaps at a Savior.

“Hurry it up then.”

His head snapped to Rick soon after, his eyes narrowing at the relief he saw on the cowering mans face,

“Don’t you think I’m done with you pricks yet. My dear sister just happens to have a kind heart towards... people. Not me. And you will regret crossing us, yes you fucking will.”

The cockiness in Negan's tone was enough for Rick to look scared again, new beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and mingling with the dirt and old sweat. A bottle of rubbing alcohol and bandages was handed to you, your brother giving you a look before he went on to taunt the group as you tended to Maggie first, making sure she was warm and giving her pain killers you had in your pocket in case of a surprise migraine. 

Maggie settled down eventually, the contractions being more than a minute apart, so you knew you wouldn’t have to birth a child in the middle of the forest with loads of Saviors and her group watching. You combed her hair away from her face one last time, nodding to Negan and kneeling in front of the injured man. 

“Is it alright if I take a look? You’re bleeding a lot, it could be worse than you thought.”, you held out a hand palm up, waiting for his okay to reach and take the blanket off him. 

A growl is all you got from and you sighed, sitting on your ass in front of him, staring into his eyes.

“Listen, I know you don’t like me already, considering my brother...but I was a doctor before this all. Even if it doesn’t matter anymore, I have PHDs in Medicine and psychology. I know what I’m doing and you have every reason not to trust me. But if that gets infected, you will die a slow and painful death.”

You heard Negan chuckling at you, a ‘that’s my little sister!’ leaving him as he swung Lucille in front of Rick. An eye roll later and a short grunt from the man, you had the blanket off the wound and the area rubbed down with water to clear the blood. Your hands worked gently against the muscle of the man, his hisses and jerks away from your touch making you smile. Normally you wouldn’t be smiling while tending to a patient, but with the sounds he produces and then the way he acts being so juxtaposed you couldn’t help it. 

So, you started laughing. You heard Simon chuckle with you because your laugh was always contagious for him. You probably looked crazier than Negan, sitting in front of this injured man, rubbing alcohol and bandages in hand as your body shook with laughter. 

“And what the fuck are we laughing about over here?”, you heard your brother ask in his intimidation voice.

It didn’t intimidate you and instead had you waving your hands about like a crazy person as practically fell over onto your side as Negan approached with anger written all over his face. Seeing that made you laugh more as tears streamed from your eyes to make mud with the dirt below. Negan chuckled at you which set you off into a new round of laughter. Simon had started laughing at you laughing and crying, so you stood and walked over to him still laughing your ass off. 

Simon caught you as you stumbled into him, his laughter combined with his mustache tickling your neck as he hid in it made you both collapse to the ground. Simon was struggling to breathe as you had straight up stopped breathing. Your faces were both red as a tomato as Negan walked over and cleared his throat. You started laughing more, which caused Simon to laugh even more, your body moving automatically into Negan as you stood and wrapped him into a hug.

“I’m soryyyy!”, you wheezed, still giggling, “I don’t know why I’m laughing!”

A sigh filled you ears past the combined laughter and before you knew it, you were over your brothers shoulder, still laughing as he carried you back into the RV. Being placed on the bed had you wheezing out laughs as Negan chuckled at you and then Simon was thrown in alongside you and you both laughed at Negans pissed off face. 

“Si! Stop laughing!”, you took a deep breath and started laughing harder at the offended look on his face.

“For me to stop laughing, you have to!”, he argued back, his head taking up residence in your stomach which made his head bounce with your laughter. 

This brought on more laughter that you just knew had to be heard from outside the RV, Negan’s voice growing louder to drown out your laughter, but you were too lost in mirth to even notice. His occasional screamed words, when your laughing got too loud, caused even more laughter when you started mocking him. It was sibling mocking, nothing serious, but it threw you and Simon into a fresh round of laughs until you had both passed out on the bed in the back of the RV.

His Property

A/N: Thanks to @/ghostsinthecloset for the dialogue prompt that created this! Maybe I’ll write some more parts? 

Edit: I wrote a part :D  His Property... Part Two!

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Kneel.”

“No. I’m not some... some weapon for you to command.”

“Not yet.”

You scoffed as you stood above the rest of your group, arms crossed in anger even though there was a dozen guns pointed at your head.

“You think you’re so special just because you’re standing, don’t you?”

The leather clad man scoffed and it prompted everyone around you who wasn’t at risk of dying to laugh at you. Your face turned red at the mockery, your boyfriend Daryl shaking his head at you as the bat that had just been used to kill one of you was pressed against your shoulder. 

“And you think you’re so special just because you’re a heartless piece of shit who uses a baseball bat, that he named to kill innocent people?”

Hesitant chuckles picked up in the crowd of Saviors, Negan shaking his head and taking a few steps back to signal his men.

“Get her down.”

You struggled against the men pushing you back down to your knees, your struggles proving fruitless as you ended up back on your knees with a firm few kicks to the back of your knees. 

“That’s more like it! Doesn’t it feel so much better to be back in the dirt where you belong?”

A short growl left you as you lunged forward, your leap cut short as you ran directly into the man who caused your group a boatload and a half of pain in the past few hours. 

“Well if you wanted to see me closer, all you had to do was ask, doll.”, the confident smirk on his face made you want to slap it off.

You wiggled in his grasp as he turned you to face your family, his rough fingertips gripping your chin as cool metal touched your throat. A collective look of concern washed over your groups faces again as they fully realized the situation. You had just angered the man killed two very important members of your group, your family, and now you had the chance to be next because you didn’t like Negan’s attitude. 

“Now, doll. I could kill you right here, in front of your friends and add one more to the kill list...or~”, he carried the ‘or’ out with a cocky smirk like he owned the world, “you can live! Wouldn’t that be peachy? But, you work for little old me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you looked to Daryl for some guidance, his head shaking minutely in dis-agreeance. He couldn’t lose you on top of Abraham and Glenn. Letting out a sigh, you look around at your family, Rick pleading you with his eyes to not just accept your death. Carl looked at you with grief, you were basically his best friend, sneaking him chocolate pudding and treats every once in a while. Everyone else held the same despair in their expressions, you were a strong member of their community, plus you had Daryl. Nothing better than that. You sighed and hung your head as much as you could with Negan’s fingers still gripping your chin.

“Okay...”, you said quietly, “I’ll go with you.”

Daryl, though expecting it, reacted immediately and jumped to pull you from Negans grasp, the knife held to your neck slicing it as you transferred holds. The both of you being pummeled to the ground by the man you remembered as Simon, Negan’s right hand man and second in command. Daryl landed on you, knocking the breath from you. You smacked his shoulder for landing on you but your moment of comedy was ruined milliseconds later as Daryl was dragged from your hold and you were pulled up and held tightly by Simon. 

“Hey! Let him go!”, you shouted at the men holding down your boyfriend as Simon ran his finger through the blood on your neck.

You hissed at the sting, struggling in yet another hold of a man that was not Daryl. Negan laughed and walked forward, Lucille swinging at his side. 

“This is an emotional moment, again, I get it. But that? Unacceptable. She is my property now, like the rest of you. It seems like you all need yet another reminder that I am the one in charge around here!”

Panic built up in the group again, he could kill Daryl, you or someone at random and no one could do anything about it. Again. 

“Simon. Hold her arm still, get her on the ground. Hold him still too. We don’t need more deaths here today.”, Negan barked out orders and they were followed swiftly.

You struggled against Simons ridiculous muscles as much as you could but ultimately ended up on your back, arm held out and still by Simons boot pressed against your elbow. Daryl was dragged closer “for a better view” and held still by three men. It made you proud to see it took three fully grown men to hold your man still but it also worried you because you knew he was hurt in the process of getting the group gathered. Snapping your gaze to Negan, you watched as he handed a bloody Lucille to the one called Dwight. The knife that was pressed against your throat now being swung in circles as Negan got on one knee beside your outstretched arm. 

“You can scream, you can cry... hell, you’re gonna be doin all that. Back to it~”, Negan ran a gentle finger across your cheek as he observed the new lack of struggle in your form. 

Hearing Negan repeat his line from earlier made you roll your eyes, but you soon realized his statement may be true as the knife dug into your forearm just under your wrist. Making eye contact with the leader of your new group, you clenched your jaw as he slowly cut into your supple skin. Blood filled the rips in your skin only to be wiped away as it appeared, leaving you, Daryl and Negan to gaze past the layers of your skin to an emptiness that filled with red rapidly after each wipe. The scream that finally left you as Negan cut through your vein sent chills through everyone in the clearing, tears welling up in the eyes of your apocalypse family as they heard you scream for the first time. Daryl struggled harder hearing you scream, the men needing a fourth to hold him back as you jerked in the hold of the two men holding you still. Minutes passed, screams echoed in the early dawn and your boyfriend lost his strength, the group watching on as you got paler. Moments passed with tension, the groans of the dead that approached being silenced quickly by Saviors. Soon enough, the sun peaked at your pain from through the trees as you stared into the sky, a heavy yet proud sigh guiding your dreary gaze to meet Negans.

“You in there, Y/N? You’re truly my property now. Take a look.”

Your eyes dropped down farther to your arm, raw skin from being rubbed accentuated by the bright red ‘N’ carved into your arm. As you watched the blood drip from the letter, you heard Daryl weakly call out your name. Meeting the eyes of your lover, you blacked out. 

“You can’t escape your own father. Haven’t you learnt that yet?”

You would never be his property. You swore you would never give in. Yet you were marked by him. Funny how family always finds its way back to each other.