#(( They point two fingers of the same hand at Well and Glenn. ))

[blog-of-a-time-witch]

Alright, let's make this quick. Another one's showed up and that one... Yeah, yikes. Both of you, close your eyes.

@well-actually-youre-wrong

@rockin-knight-of-justice

[bobbyseyesmile]

Pride and Passion | 11

Chapter 11

Warnings: Some smutty action as in fingering and Negans potty mouth (as usual) | 18+ | Minors DNI |❤️‍🔥

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Negan had told you to wait in the car when you reach Alexandria, to wait for his final permission. You really tried to listen but as soon as you saw the big gates and some of your friends standing on the watchtowers you couldn’t hold back any longer and jumped out of the rolling car. Much to Negan’s dismay.

“Y/N!” he yelled and tried to grab your arm but you were faster and already running towards the gate.

“Dad!” you yelled as loud as you could. “Carl! Judy!”

The people standing guard for Alexandria couldn’t believe their eyes: Was it really you?!

“Y/N?” Glenn whispered more to himself and then yelled: “Someone find me Rick! Quick!”

Rick was unloading some boxes with Daryl when he heard all the yelling. “Is it time already?” he sighed and flashed his best friend an annoyed look. Rick was tired- Negan’s visits were more frequent, even though, interestingly, he didn’t demand more stuff. He just came by a few times, looked around, made some stupid jokes then left.

“Dad!” Rick turned around watching his son running towards him, completely out of breath. “What happened?!” he asked, his voice filled with immediate concern. “Dad…” Carl tried to catch his breath. “It’s Y/N! She’s here with him.”

The box Rick was holding dropped on the floor and he ran towards the gate, not another thought in his mind but his daughter he hasn’t seen in months. He never knew if you were even alive. “Dad!” He heard your voice and ran faster, his long curls sticking to his sweaty forehead. When he finally saw your face, the confused look in your eyes when you turned your head looking for him, his heart almost exploded. It was really you.

“Y/N!” Your head snapped towards the voice and you saw your dad running in your direction. You did the same and a few moments later you finally reached the arms of your father- caging you in the biggest bearhug and silently sobbing in your hair. “You’re alive…”

Hot tears rolled over your cheeks, soaking his white shirt but none of you cared. For a moment all was good. Nothing else mattered.

Negan had some distance and observed the scene in front of him. He wasn’t a cold-hearted bastard, fucking course he was touched. Who wouldn’t be? A father and daughter reunited. Still, he doubted that his decision to bring you along was the best- normally everything was calculated and well thought of, he never let emotions control him. But with you? A lot of shit was different with you.

“I’ll give you some space.” You turned around, watching as Negan walked back to the vehicle, talking to his men.

“Come on. We have a lot to talk about.” Rick said and softly pushed you towards the house.

Michonne watched from the windows and opened the door, Judith in her arms. “Oh my god! I missed you so much!” you squealed and took the little girl from her. “My sweet, sweet angel.” The baby showed a small smile, presenting her tiny teeth, playfully grabbing your hair. You inhaled her scent, closing your eyes, wishing this moment would never end. This little girl meant the world to you.

A hand landed on your shoulder and you turned around, finding your younger brother. “Carl!” Tears fell again when you two hugged each other, not letting go of the other one. “God, I missed all of you so much, you can’t imagine.”

Michonne caressed your cheek, gifting you her warm and motherly smile. You always loved the fierce and brave woman- she was perfect for your father. “We are very happy to have you back.”

Your stomach turned. “I am not.” You whispered and gave Judith a small kiss on her head. “It’s just for today…”

“But-“ Carl started and you quickly shook your head. “Just today.”

“I’m sure we can talk to him, I mean-“ “No, Dad. Today was an exception, Negan made that very clear before we came here.”

“What did he do to you?” your brother asked.

“Let’s sit.” Your head pointed to the sofa. After leading the way, you sat down with the baby in your arm. Judith let out a small yawn, obviously battling to not fall asleep but after a few minutes you heard her steady breathing, her face nestled into your chest. You answered them every question they had, told them everything about the Sanctuary, Rosita, the workers and so on. There really wasn’t much to tell to begin with- After all Negan wanted you to sit still and look pretty for him.

“So, he never-?” Michonne lifted an eyebrow, secretly scared to ask the one question that kept your father awake at night.

You quickly shook your head. “He never touched me, I promise.” You saw the relieved look on their faces and gave your father a small nudge with your knee. Rick managed a small smile. “I hate to say it but it’s not bad, actually. ‘Course not great, but yeah… I mean, he’s pretty much always mad at me and I’m sure that I’m the reason for his constant migraine but other than that… I just sit around.” You shrugged your shoulders.

“But didn’t he say you’re his wife or something like that?” Rick shot his son a warning glance but Carl just shrugged his shoulders “What?”

“It’s alright.” You said and smiled at him. “Yeah, he kind of claimed me in front of his people but, uh, he has other wives as well. Don’t look at me like that, it’s not like I approve of it, okay? His other wives are responsible for his… needs.” The words kept stuck in your throat and a weird feeling spread in your stomach.

“You make it sound so unromantic and inappropriate, doll.”

You turned around when Negan stood in the middle of the living room, Lucille casually slung over his shoulder. He watched with amuse when you rolled your eyes at him.

“Negan-“ your father stood up but Negan stopped him almost immediately.

“Not right now, Rick. I’m sure anything you have to say can fucking wait. Right now, I want you to prepare a bedroom in one of those empty houses, ya listening?”

“We, uh, don’t have any empty houses right now…” Carl answered and made Negan scoff in return.

“Oh, is that so, young man? Well, how about we make some space then, are ya volunteering?”

“Negan.” You said sternly and he immediately raised is hands in defense. “Just joking around, love. But I’m sure there’s some private room in this shithole of town, right Ricky?”

“For what?” Rick asked and adjusted his posture. He always did that when he felt threatened. The only thing was: Negan simply didn’t care. “For sleeping, you dumbnut.” Negan explained slowly and then pointed Lucille towards you. “We’re staying tonight. We left way too late and it’s getting dark, ‘am not taking any risks out there.”

You opened your mouth, way too many questions lingered in your head. But you just asked the only thing you could think of: “Really?” Negan nodded. “Simon can handle things at home. Dwight and my men will stay as well, ya hear me, Rick? So don’t think about doing anything stupid like you always do. Give us our room and we’re out of your hair for today.”

“We just got her back-“ Carl stood up and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Yeah, and she’s still here tomorrow.” Negan became slowly but surely annoyed so you got up, carefully adjusting the little girl in your arms.

“It’s alright Carl.” The small smile you gave your brother made him relax a little and you turned your attention back to Negan. “I’m going to bathe, feed and bring her to bed. It won’t be long.” Rick and the others watched as you went upstairs- Negan didn’t argue and just sighed. “Fine.” He hated the spell you had over him, why was he not insisting or simply ordering you to come with him? Because he didn’t want to. And that was a problem.

Rick watched the weird interaction between his beloved daughter and this prick- the look Negan gave you was… almost caring. But it made Rick way more nervous- sure, he didn’t want you to suffer or something like that, but he also didn’t want this murderer to sleep next to you thinking about God knows what. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do tonight so he pushed his curls back and pointed to the front door. “I’ll show you the house for your stay tonight.”

“Fucking great.”

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

The room was way too bright- moonlight shone through the windows and made it impossible to sleep for you. You weren’t even sure if the half-naked man beside you was asleep or awake, his breathing was consistent.

“Can’t sleep?”

You quickly closed your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it, pretending to sleep when you felt him shifting around, his warm chest close to your back but the heat from his body was radiating towards you like a bonfire.

“Too bright.” You whispered, almost not audible. “Shit, yeah…” Negan’s breath tickled your neck and he watched your body react with goosebumps in return. As much as he hated the power you had over him, making him question everything he did, he loved the obvious attraction you had towards him.

A small shiver ran down your spine and made you almost choke on your own breath. Why was he so close? And why, for the love of everything holy, didn’t you run?

Negan licked his lips when he felt your body moving closer to his own, your back now firmly pressed against his chest. “You just have to ask, babygirl.” His low voice rumbled through the silent room; your senses heightened.

After what felt like eternity you finally said: “Please…”

“Please what?” he needed you to say the words, needed to actually hear them coming from your lips. “Please touch me…” you begged, breathless.

Negan’s finger ran over your arm, leaving a trail of fresh goosebumps, lighting your insides on fire. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt like this- or, in fact, you could remember but pushed the memories with Shane away. You would regret it tomorrow but not now.

Negan’s fingertips slowly worked its way up to your chest, the thin fabric doing absolutely nothing for you. You held your breath when he cupped your breast, his calloused thumb circling your hard nipple, teasing the sensitive flesh. “Breathe, baby, breathe.” A small whimper escaped your lips.

Negan let out a low grunt, a sound of approval when your body moved against his hands. His lips carefully sucked the soft skin by your neck. His second arm slipped under your body, pulling you against him while his hand continued to explore the rest of your heated skin.

“Negan…” you moaned when he found your earlobe, sucking and biting it. “Hm? What do you need, little one?” “More.” Was all you managed to say. His hand wandered down your stomach, reaching the hem of your panties, fidgeting with the fabric. “Touch me… please.”

Your voice sounded desperate, absolutely pathetic, like you’ve been starving for his attention, longing for his touch. And Negan loved every second of it. His index ran through your folds- his original plan was to tease you till you were a begging mess but as soon as he felt the sticky wetness pooling in your panties, he discarded all thoughts. “Fuck…” he groaned “You’re completely soaked.” You bit your lips, there wasn’t anything else you could do. Even if you wanted to speak, there were no words coming out of your throat as Negan inserted two of his long digits and started pumping at a slow but intense pace. “You like that, huh?” Your head nodded on its own, caught in a delicious dizziness. “Fuck, babe, I thought about this a million time…” “Me too.” You admitted breathless, your fingers clinging to the sheets. Eyes closed you started to move your hips along to his rhythm, his fingers reaching deeper, touching places you didn’t even knew existed. “Shit!” you cursed under your breath “I’m close…” “I can tell by the way your pussy’s gripping my fingers, fuck, darling.” His words made you almost come- there was something about his constant cussing that made your insides turn into goo. “Come on, baby, come for me… Show me how good my fingers fuck this sweet cunt.”

“Negan!” you yelled and his large hand pressed against your mouth. “Come on, ride it out, doll.” He whispered in your ear and, oh, you so did; relishing every second of your orgasm against his hand till you were a trembling mess, begging for his hand to stop. You felt his lips against your neck, covering your sweaty skin with soft kisses. “Good girl.”

Negan drew lazy circles over your clit, making you whine in return. “No more… I can’t.” you panted, making him smile. “We’ll test that theory another time.”  

He then adjusted the blanket, covering both of you but when you tried to move away, he grabbed your hips, pulling you back against him. “Stay.” Was all he said before you two feel into a deep and much needed slumber.

Taglist: @toxic-ink @jaywinchestersalvatore @crosshajr @neganswoman @tone-stark @missmiauz @ellablossom @abbiesxox @fullwattpadmusictree @lover1307 @shadylilac @xsecretsirenx @sstrxnges @sanctuaryforthelost @carly-i @r3dskywaterfall

(if you want to be added, pls let me know)

[enid-rhees]

barely made it | Enid Rhee x Fem!Reader

summary: basically what happened to Carl in s5 with his eye but instead of him it happens to you

warnings: description of what happened to Sam, getting shot, descriptions of the injury, angst

A/N: this is 100% inspired by @kamii-2 from another ask and i wanted to try and make this! this is a bit longer than usual so i hope you guys like it! reminder that requests are open so if you want to request, all info is in pinned!

to add backstory to this, you do live with the Grimes family but it’s not explicitly mentioned if you’re adopted by them or not. that could be up to you!

you didn’t understand how this happened. one minute, you’re pacing back and forth, worried out of your mind because neither Enid or Glenn have been found, and there was hundreds of walkers waiting on the other side of that gate. and the next minute, they’re surrounding you.

you tried not to think about what happened to your girlfriend, if she was still alive or not. the thoughts were pushed to the back of your mind when you stepped outside, holding onto Carl’s hand for dear life.

this wasn’t ideal at all; wearing sheets covered in walker guts. the smell was so vile. it should’ve been something you’re used to after all these years, but this was on another level.

being surrounded by walkers like this was frightening. even though you knew they wouldn’t come after you because of the scent, being this close to them was truly terrifying.

you guys continued to walk until it was way past dark. you weren’t sure how long you had left until the scent would wear off. as you continued to walk, you were pulled back.

you turned around, Sam was holding your other hand and he had stopped walking. “Sam,” you whispered. “Sam, we need to go. we have to keep walking,”

Jessie took notice, and tried to help as well. he wouldn’t budge out of his frightened state. “Sam, come on.” Jessie begged.

as everyone tried to get him to move, you didn’t notice the walkers that had started to take notice of you all. suddenly, two walkers came from each side of Sam, taking a bite out of his face.

your eyes widened as Jessie cried out, trying to pry her son out of the arms of walkers. the sight was awful to look at, but you couldn’t look away.

walkers started to approach you due to the screams, and Rick started to try and pull Jessie away so you can escape. she wouldn’t let go of Sam, causing her to get caught as well.

the walker bit into her shoulder but nothing could let her let go of Sam. Rick grabbed his mini axe and started to slam it on her arm.

all you could do was stare in shock. you weren’t even sure if this was real or not. this didn’t seem real anymore.

your thoughts were let go when you heard the click of a gun. you looked up, freezing in place. Ron held the handgun up, pointing at Rick. the same handgun you guys used to teach him shoot with.

“Ron,” you spoke hoarsely. “don’t- don’t do this.” you begged. “you’ll gain nothing.”

“you guys. all of you,” he started. “everything was ruined because of you guys. you killed my dad. and then you just got the rest of my family killed.” he said, pointing to Rick. then he turned to you. you stumbled back when the gun was pointing towards you now.

“and you. you took one of the only good things i had away from me. Enid was mine.”

he cocked the gun as it was still pointed at you. your breathing had sped up as he put his finger on the trigger. before he could pull it, a sword went through his body.

you flinched, and then everything went dark in one eye. blood had started to pour down to your face, and you finally felt the pounding pain in your head.

“guys?” you asked weakly. you looked up at them and all of their eyes widened. before anyone could say anything, you fell to the ground and everything went dark.

Rick was quick to pick you up. your body was completely limp, he wasn’t sure if you were dead or alive. tears ran down his face.

“we need to get to Denise!” he yelled over all the groaning from walkers. the three of them fought their way through the hoard of walkers. Michonne sliced through them like it was nothing.

once they finally made it in the building, Denise rushed to lay her on a table. “what happened?!” she asked Rick. she knew she had to be calm in this situation, she had to be for everyone else. “she… she got shot in the eye. please tell me you can save her.” desperation filled his voice as he stared down at your unconscious body.

“i can but i need you to be calm. i need bandages, thread and scissors.” she announced to everyone that stood in the room.

Rick looked up, he didn’t even notice Rosita and Tara.

once she gathered all supplies, she concentrated heavily as she stitched up what was left in your socket. the last words Ron said to you rang through Rick’s head.

Enid. he needed to find Enid.

for a moment, everything had gone blurry. his body shifted to autopilot and he started to walk out the door, not processing Michonne yelling at him.

“stay here.” Michonne told Carl. he nodded and Michonne ran after Rick. with both of them now outside with the hoard again, Carl stood by your side, helping in any way Denise needed.

“who did this to her, Carl?” Rosita asked.

“it was Ron.” he admitted. “both his mom and brother got caught in the hoard. he blamed my dad for everything that’s happened, for killing his father. and then he pointed the gun at Y/N, said she took Enid away from him.”

even before you and Enid got together, it was clear you were gravitating towards each other. with similar experiences caused by the apocalypse, you found comfort within each other. it didn’t take long to realize you both fell in love. the only problem was she was still with Ron at the time.

Rick finally found Enid. she was at the top of the watchtower as walkers surrounded the wooden structure. it shook as she stood on it.

“ENID!” he yelled out to catch her attention. he shot the walkers around her, clearing it so she can come down. “you need to come down! Y/N’s been shot!” he yelled.

even with the night sky and the distance between them, he could still see the way her entire demeanor changed. she ran down the steps and all the way to him.

“she’s with Denise. come with me,” he said hurriedly. they ran down the street, avoiding all the walkers trying to grab onto them. Enid ran inside the building, her hands going over her mouth when she saw the sight of you.

cries left her lips, unable to hold them in the second she saw you. Denise was still working on your eye, or what was left of the area. her hand reached for yours, squeezing it softly. you were still unconscious.

Denise then lifted your head up a bit to wrap the bandage around your head. there was dried blood covering your face, so she took a damp towel and wiped your face.

the silence in the room was like no other. no one knew what to say or do. whenever one of the teens were to get hurt, it hurt the others just as much.

“will she be okay?” Enid asked Denise. “she’ll live. but she won’t wake for a while. the bullet went through her eye and head, she’s extremely lucky to be alive still.”

more tears slipped down her face as she nodded, lifting your hand up to press a kiss there. “Rick- can you carry her into that room? there’s a bed in there, she’ll stay there until she’s awake and better.” he nodded and picked her up from the table.

he set her on the bed as carefully as possible, making sure her head was comfortable enough on the pillow. Enid followed him, sitting down in the chair next to the bed.

“where were you?” Rick asked her. “when this happened. she was worried sick because she couldn’t find you.”

“i was in town somewhere. i don’t know. but i found Glenn and i came back with him. he’s here.” she explained to him. he nodded. “she’ll be really happy to see you. i’m really glad to made it back, and with Glenn.”

she gave him a small smile. “are you gonna stay here for tonight?” she nodded, “yeah, just in case she wakes up.”

Rick nodded and turned to the door to leave, but Enid spoke up again. “Rick?” she asked. he turned to her, “who shot Y/N?”

his face noticeably dropped. “it was um, it was Ron.” she stood back up, “what?” her voice raised, eyes widening. “Ron is the one who almost killed her?” her voice cracked at the end as tears lined her eyes.

“he… he pointed it at her, said she took one of the only good things he had away from him. that thing was you. before he could shoot, Michonne put her sword through him but when she did, his finger pulled the trigger.”

she looked back down at you as she tried to process what Rick just told her. “so he’s dead?”

he nodded. “yeah… yeah Ron’s dead.”

Rick put his hand on the doorknob, “do you want some time with her?” she nodded, “please.” with one more nod, he left the room.

a sob left her lips after he was gone. she leaned her hand against your hand that was intertwined with hers, trying to muffle her sobs.

her mind was going a million miles an hour. there was no way to process everything that just happened. how are you supposed to react to hearing your ex almost killed your girlfriend?

every part of her begged inside to let you live. she prayed and prayed that you’ll wake up soon, that you’ll be okay.

Enid inhaled sharply, one more choked sob leaving her lips. she squeezed your hand, silently hoping you would somehow squeeze hers back.

_

it was finally the next day. Enid didn’t get an ounce of sleep. even if you were awake for half a second before falling back asleep, she wanted to be there if you did. she spent the night, staring down at you as she wondered if you would wake up.

Denise came in once to remove the bandage and replace it with a new one. there was a giant hole in your face, but you didn’t look any less beautiful to Enid.

Rick came back with Carl and Michonne in the morning.

“has she moved? or… anything?” Rick asked Enid. she shook her head, “no. she hasn’t moved in the slightest.” she sighed. the grip she had on your hand hasn’t let up since last night, waiting for the second you hold hers back.

“what’s it like out there?” she asked him. “everyone is working on burning the bodies. it’s almost clear again. soon we’ll start rebuilding the gate.” he informed her. she nodded, still looking down at you.

“i think you should rest, Enid. get some food and sleep.” Michonne said to her. Enid shook her head. “no. i need to be here when she’s awake.”

“we’ll come and get you when she is-“

“no, i’m staying until she’s awake. i wasn’t here for her when it happened, i need to be here now.” she told them, voice sharp. they didn’t say anything back, they knew better than to argue with her, especially when it comes to you.

Michonne nodded, “okay, okay. but… i will bring you food. you need to eat.” Enid nodded, not taking her eyes off you.

it had been a few hours, Michonne came back with a plate of food and water for Enid, and sat with her while she ate. Denise came in again, replacing the bloody bandage with a new one and putting a new IV in your arm.

Enid hasn’t moved from her seat. she’s kept your hand safe in hers the entire time.

“please wake up.” she begged in a whisper, “i can’t lose you.” tears slipped down her cheek, dripping down her face and onto your intertwined hands.

“i need you here with me.” she cried out.

your hand twitched. her head shot up as a small gasp left her lips. “Y/N?” she choked out, standing up from her seat.

she stood over you, her other hand reaching for your face to hold it gently. “Y/N? it’s me. it’s Enid. wake up.” she pleaded, swallowing sobs that threatened to come out.

your hand then squeezed hers back, and seconds later, your eyes slowly opened. Enid couldn’t control the huge smile that painted her lips, her vision going blurry from the tears.

“Enid,” you whispered, voice barely audible. your lips curled in a small, weak smile.

“you’re awake.” she cried out. you furrowed your eyebrows. “why are you crying? i-“ you looked around the room. “where am i?”

Enid sat down on the bed carefully, “you’re in the doctor’s building.” you slowly brought your hand up to the bandage that covered your eye.

your heart dropped. for a moment, you had thought you dreamt it. as memories started to come back, you felt the sudden pounding pain in your head.

you squeezed your eye shut, trying to make it somewhat tolerable. “Y/N? what’s wrong?” Enid asked, voice laced with panic. “my head.” you said.

“i’ll go get Denise.” Enid said quickly before running out the room. you’ve never felt pain like this before. it felt like a million hammers were being repeatedly rammed into your head.

Denise rushed in, holding multiple things. “the medicine in her IV ran out. that’s why the pain is so intense,” she told Enid. she took out the old one and replaced it was a new one.

“Enid, can you help sit her up? she needs to take this pill.” she nodded and came over to your side, putting a hand on your back and hand to help you up.

Denise handed you a small cup with a pill and another cup filled with water. you took both, grimacing at the way it slid down your throat.

“how are you feeling?” Denise asked. “not… not good.” you answered honestly. you looked between Enid and Denise.

“i- how does… is it bad?” you stuttered over your words. the answer scared you, not knowing what they would say. you were terrified for what Enid would say.

there was silence for a moment, and you felt your heart sink deeper and deeper by the second. “maybe you should… come with me for a minute, Y/N.” Denise said.

she helped you stand up, and you guys slowly made your way to the bathroom. she stood with you in front of the mirror. “just tell me when to cover it back up.” you nodded.

she gently loosened the bandage around your head and slid it off. you stared at the image in the mirror. your chest felt tighter. the bloody hole sat on your face, taking up more space than your actual eye did.

“cover it.” you said quickly when you felt tears build up in your eye. Denise nodded, wrapping a clean bandage around you again. you swallowed the knot in your throat.

she took you back to the room where Enid was waiting. you avoided her gaze as you got back in the bed.

“i’ll let Rick, Carl and Michonne know you’re awake.” Denise said. you dreaded it, but nodded. “okay.”

when Denise left, Enid spoke up. “Y/N?” you turned to her, all of a sudden feeling nervous every time you looked at her. now that you knew what everyone else saw, you felt every bit of confidence you had left disappear.

she moved closer to you, sitting on the edge of the bed. “can i tell you something?” you prepared for the worst. you knew she thought you looked awful now. there was no way she could look at you the same now. you were prepared for this to ruin your relationship.

“you don’t have to say it.” you told her. tears started to build in your eyes, “if this causes you to want to… break up i-“

“woah, woah. why would you say that?” Enid asked, her eyes widened. “i’m not breaking up with you! do you know how stupid i would have to be to do that?”

“that’s not what you were going to do?” you asked. she shook her head, “no! i would never do that. don’t ever think i would.” she scolded. “i was going to tell you that i think you’re still just as beautiful as you were before. nothing will change that. and nothing will ever change the way i feel about you.”

you leaned your head back on the pillow, “fuck.” you sighed. “i’m sorry, Enid.”

she moved so she was now next to you on the bed and grabbed your hand, intertwining it with hers. her other hand went to your jaw, turning your head until you made eye contact with her.

“i love you, okay? i love you more than anything. nothing will ever change that. you’re so fucking beautiful to me, and that will never change either.” she said to you, looking right into your eyes.

“i love you.” you whispered. “thank you.”

she leaned forward, softly pressing her lips to yours. you didn’t waste a second kissing back. your IV covered hand reached up to hold her face.

the door opened, making you guys disconnect from each other. Enid got off the bed and you were suddenly engulfed in a hug.

“Carl! be gentle with her!” Rick scolded. you laughed, wrapping your arms over his back. “he’s okay.” when he pulled back, Rick and Michonne also pulled you in a hug.

“you doing okay?” Rick asked. you frowned and shrugged, “glad to be awake but… my head really hurts and all. and i saw what was under this,” you gestured to your bandage covered eye. “so, not that great. but pulling through.”

he put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “we’re just glad you’re awake. you had everyone really scared.”

you stayed silent for a moment. “what happened to Ron?” everyone looked at each other before looking back at you. “Ron’s dead, Y/N. before he shot you, Michonne stabbed him. remember?” Rick spoke up.

you sat frozen for a moment as you tried to recollect the rest of your memories from last night. everything had happened so fast.

“yeah.. i remember now.” you told him. then you looked back up at Enid. the last words he said to you came back.

“he said i took you away from him.” you said to her. “i know, hon. but… it’s not true. okay? you didn’t do anything to him.” she reassured. you nodded.

“she should eat.” Michonne told Rick. “yeah, you’re right. we’ll be back again in a few.” it was just then your stomach had started to ache, so you agreed. “yeah. food would be great.”

you were left with Enid again when they left and you turned to her. “i’m so fucking glad you’re back, Enid. i was so scared yesterday when i couldn’t find you.”

“i know. i’m so sorry for leaving like that without saying anything. i’m so sorry.” she leaned her head on yours, “it’s okay. you’re alive, that’s all that matters.” you whispered.

your lips connected once more, “i love you so much.” you mumbled against her lips. “i love you more. i’m never letting you go.”

__________________________________

A/N: this took so long to write but i’m so fucking happy with how it turned out. i hope you all enjoyed! and question for you all if you’re still reading, did you guys watch Dead City last night? how did you guys like it? i fucking loved it. completely fell in love with Maggie all over again.

[final-girl96]

Broken World: Chapter Thirty-Three

Nebraska Continued

Daryl

Daryl was sitting outside his tent by the fire when Lori showed up. “Moving to the suburbs?” She asked, but he didn't say anything. “Listen, Beth's in some kind of catatonic shock. We need Hershel.” Daryl continued to whittle the stick he had in his hand. “Yeah. So what?” He said. “So I need you to run into town real quick and bring him and Rick back.” Daryl wasn’t surprised she was up here telling him to go looking for them. “Daryl?”

“Your bitch went window-shopping. You want him? Fetch him yourself. I got better things to do,” He sput at her. She narrowed her eyes at him, “What's the matter with you? Why would you be so selfish?” She asked. That really got under his skin and he stood up. Selfish? Listen to me, Olive Oyl. I was out there looking for that little girl every single day. I took a bullet and an arrow in the process. Don't you tell me about me getting my hands dirty! You want those two idiots? Have a nice ride. I'm done looking for people!”

Lori shook her head in disbelief. What had she expected? He isn't he fucking dog. “Wrll, you should know it wasn't just Rick and Glenn. Yn went with them.” Lori turned around and started heading back towards the house.

YN

“Those your cars out front?” Dave asked. “Yeah. Why?” Glenn asked. I love Glenn but he's a little too friendly. “We're living in ours. Those look kind of empty, clean. Where's all your gear?” Dave asked. Rick narrowed his eyes at him and didnt say anything. “We're with a larger group out scouting, thought we could use a drink,” Hesherl offers up.

“A drink? Hershel, I thought you quit. Well, we're thinking of setting up around here. Is it safe?” Dave asked. “It can be, although I have killed a couple of walkers around here,” Glenn told him. “Walkers? That what you call them?”

“Yeah.”

“That's good. I like that. I like that better than lamebrains,” Dave says, sitting back in the chair he was seated in. “More succinct,” Tony said. “Okay, Tony went to college,” Dave yells us. “Two years.”

“So what, you guys set up on the outskirts or something? That new development? Trailer park or something? A farm? Old McDonald had a farm.” Tony laughed at Dave's lame as fuck joke. “You got a farm? Is it safe? It's gotta be. You got food, water?” Dave asked. This motherfucker asks a lot of fucking questions. “You got cooze? Ain't had a piece of ass in weeks,” Tony days, looking at me and kicking his lips. “I will fucking cut your goddamn eyes and tongue out if you don't top looking at me.”

“Listen, pardon my friend. City kids, they got no tact. No disrespect. So listen, Glenn…” Rick cuts Dave off before he can ask Glenn anytjing more. “We've said enough.”

Dave stood up and went bwhind the counter. He set his gun down in the bar top. “Well, hang on a second. This farm, it sounds pretty sweet. Don't it sound sweet, Tony?” He says. “Yeah, real sweet.”

“How about a little southern hospitality? We got some buddies back at camp been having a real hard time. I don't see why you can't make room for a few more. We can pool our resources, our manpower.” Rick sniffs, narrowing his eyes at him. “Look, I'm sorry. That's not an option.”

“Doesn't sound like it'd be a problem.”

“I'm sorry. We can't. We can't take in any more in.”

Dave lets out a short laugh. “You guys are something else. I thought we were friends. We got people we gotta look out for, too,” Dave said. “We don't know anything about you,” I told him. He points a finger at me. “No, that's true,” he says. “You don't know anything about us,” I say. “You don't know what we've had to go through out there, the things we've had to do. I bet you've had to do some of those same things yourself. Am I right? 'Cause ain't nobody's hands clean in what's left of this world. We're all the same. So come on, let's take a nice friendly hayride to this farm and we'll get to know each other.”

“That's not gonna happen.”

“Rick…” Fave starts but Tony cuts in. “This is bullshit!” He yells. “Calm down,” Rick tells him. Don't tell me to calm down. Don't ever tell me to calm down. I'll shoot you four assholes in the head and take your damn farm!” I raised an eyebrow at his outburst, my hand going to the hilt of my gun that rest on my hip.

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Relax. Take it easy. Nobody's killing anybody. Nobody's shooting anybody. Right, Rick? We're just friends having a drink. That's all. Now where's the good stuff, huh? Good stuff, good stuff, good stuff. Let's see. Hey, look at that. That'll work.” Dave holds up a bottle of whiskey. “You gotta understand, we can't stay out there. You know what it's like.”

“Yeah, I do. But the farm is too crowded as is. I'm sorry. You'll have to keep looking.”

“Keep looking. Where do you suggest we do that?”

“I don't know. I hear Nebraska's nice.”

Dave laughs, “Nebraska. This guy.” Then he's raising his gun. I pulled my and pulled the trigger shooting him in the head. Rick stood up and took out Tony before he could even react.

Shit really hit the fan when we tried to leave. Other members of their group came looking for them or at least were close by because they heard the shots. We ended up having a shootout with them.

Daryl

About an hour later Carol had come up to his camp. His been sitting thwre thinking about the last thing Lori had told him. That yn was out there too. He shouldnt care. He doesn't care. At least he tries to tell himself he doesn't care.

“We can't find Lori. And the others aren't back yet either,” Carol said to him. “That dumb bitch must've gone off Iooking for 'em,” Daryl told her. “What?” She asked, looking confused and shocked. “Yeah, she asked me to go. I toId her I was done being an errand boy.”

“And you didn't say anything?” Carol asked. “Don't do this. Please. l've already lost my girl,” She begged him. He turned and looked at her. “That wasn't my problem neither.”

Carol looked at him and he started to get uncomfortable. “What are you doing?” He hssed. “Keeping an eye on you,” she said. Daryl scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Ain't you a peach?” He said sarcastically. “I'm not gonna let you pull away. You've earned your place.” That set him off. He doesn't know why, but that was his last straw.

“If you spent half your time minding your daughter's business instead of sticking your nose in everybody else's, she'd still be alive!” He yelled at her. Carol just stood there, back straight and her head held high. “Go ahead,” she told him. “Go ahead and what?” He asked confused at forat but then he realized what she meant.

“I mean just go! I don't want you here! You're a real piece of work, lady. What, are you gonna make this about my daddy or some crap like that? Pfft! Man, you know Jack. You're afraid. You're afraid 'cause you're all alone. You got no husband, no daughter. You don't know what to do with yourself. You ain't my problem! Sophia wasn't mine! All you had to do was keep an eye on her!” He screamed. He had so much hope that Sophia was out there waiting to be found. That she was alive. He was doing it because he knew what It felt like to have a piece of ahit for a father. But when she came out of that barn–something broke inside him.

[herarcadewasteland]

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.

[scarisd3ad]

To the end and back | Daryl Dixon x reader

Chapter eight - this love

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Summary - after the world ended you were sure you’d never find love again but a certain archer catches your eyes and changes the entire trajectory of your life.

Warnings - regular twd warnings

'Save the last one.'

Season 2 ep 3

Glenn and t-dog are about to leave. T-dog is already in the car waiting for Glenn. Glenn is saying his goodbyes like he's about to die, even though we're probably going to see him tomorrow. "You sure you want to stay?" Glenn asks as he wraps his arms around me in a hug. I nod. I'm still hesitant about staying but Daryl said he'll protect me. "Make sure carl is alright for me" I whisper. I still want to go just to make sure carls okay. Ever since I found out Carl was hurt, I couldn't stop worrying. I want to go and find out if he was alright, but I also wanted to find Sophia. I was stuck between and rock and a hard place. Both kids were in trouble and couldn't find it in me to pick between the two. "Love you" Glenn whispers as I pull away "love you too I'll see you later."

-

Glenn, and t-dog left a few hours back leaving us just with the rv to sleep in. The rv was tiny and three people alone made me feel claustrophobic so I choose to sit up on the rv's roof with Dale.

"So, what made you decide to change your mind?" He asks. He's stood up with his binoculars keeping an eye out while I'm sitting on the edge. "Daryl" I whisper.

"Ah, are you two like..." he trails off as I shrug. "I dunno, I really like him though" I say as I fidget with my fingers in my lap. There's nothing but cars for miles. Nothing, not one Walker, or a person. Just cars.

"If you really like him, you should ask him about it" he says.

I can hear carols cries from inside the rv. I can't help but think I was being too harsh earlier. Her child did just go missing. "Dale" I whisper, "hm?" He hums. "Do you think I was being too mean earlier...y'know with Carol." I ask as I turn my head back so I can see him. He shakes his head "no you were being logical that's all."

The rv door opens and then closes. We both look down to see both Andrea, and Daryl coming out. They're both holding flashlights, and Daryl has his crossbow.

"I'm going for a walk. Shine some light in the forest. If she's out there, give her something to look at. You wanna come with me sugar?" He says looking up at me. I nod shyly, the nickname making me flustered "yeah sure" I whisper as he helps me off of the roof. "You think that's a good idea right now?" Dale asks. "Dale" Andrea warns before walking past Daryl and I. We follow after her, Daryl's hand still holding mine tightly. He doesn't let go until we get closer to the forest.

"You really think we're gonna find Sophia?" Andrea asks. Daryl turns his head towards Andrea and shakes it. He scoffs "you got that look on your face same as everybody else. What the hell's wrong with you people? We just started lookin'" Andrea turns her head towards Daryl and asks "well, do you?" He scoffs again. She's a smart girl, just because she's little doesn't mean she's not going to be found alive. "It ain't the mountains of Tibet it's Georgia. She could be holed up in a farmhouse somewhere. People get lost and they survive. It happens all the time."

"She's only twelve" Andrea says. I stuff both my hands in my jacket pockets. it's cold. If my estimation is correct, it's November, so the weather isn't far off.

"She's a smart girl" I whisper. "That doesn't make a difference she's still twelve" replies Andrea. "Hell, I was younger than her and I got lost. Nine days in the woods eating berries, wiping my ass with poison oak." Daryl has a point he may have been younger than that, hell I got lost in the woods behind my grandfather's farm several times, but we didn't have to survive with walkers all around us. I'm just hoping and praying Sophia paid attention to at least one bit of the survival skills Shane tried teaching Sophia, carl, and Morales's children.

"They found you?" Andrea asks "my old man was off on a bender with some waitress. Merle was doin' another stint in juvie. Didn't even know I was gone. I made my way back though. Went straight into the kitchen and made myself a sandwich. No worse for wear. Except my ass itched something awful." Both Andrea and I let out quiet laughs. "that's disgusting" i mutter "I'm sorry." Andrea says trying to hide another laugh "I'm sorry, that is a terrible story." Andrea says but ends up laughing again. "Only difference is Sophia's got people lookin' for her. I call that an advantage."

"Yeah, but you didn't have the risk of getting bitten by a Walker" I whisper. Daryl nods "you're right I didn't." We continue walking until we hear a bush rustle. We all jump back a bit. Daryl pushed me behind him as he pulls his crossbow off of his shoulder, and ready to shoot. Daryl continues into the forest keeping Andrea, and I behind him. We continue through towards the rustling until we come across a little campsite with a Walker hung from a tree.

"What the hell?" Daryl mutters. There's a note pinned to the tree. The Walker is thrashing around, trying to get out of the noose it's hung from. "Got bit. Fever hit. World gone to shit. Might as well quit" Daryl reads aloud. "Dumbass didn't know enough to shoot himself in the head. Turned himself into a big swinging piece of bait. And a mess."

Andrea covers her nose as she bends over placing both hands on her knees "you alrigh'?" Daryl asks. "Trying not to puke" Andrea replies through coughs and gags "go ahead of you gotta." The Walker does stink. I don't think I will ever get over how terrible a Walker smells. I cover my face with the top of my shirt. It barely even masks the smell. "No, I'm fine. Let's just talk about something else for a minute. How'd you learn to shoot?" She asks. Daryl simply responds with "gotta eat."

"That's one thing these walkers and us have in common. I guess it's the closest he's been to food since he turned hangin' up there like a big piñata" the walker is sticking its arms out and thrashing around trying to get to us. Its legs are practically gone, well at least the meat is only leaving its tibia and fibula bones left. "The other geeks came and ate all the flesh off his legs." Andrea vomits, maybe it was because of Daryl's comment mixed with the smell of the Walker cause now I feel like I'm going to puke. "I thought we were changing the subject" she says as she coughs. "Call that payback for laughing about my itchy ass."

"There wasn't a lot that came up" Andrea says through heaving breathing. "Hm, let's head back" Daryl says as he turns around and begins walking back the way we came. "Aren't you gonna..." Daryl looks up at the walker and shakes his head "no. He ain't hurtin' nobody. Ain't gonna waste an arrow either. He made his choice. He opted out. Let him hang" Daryl says as the Walker continues to groan, gasp, and thrash around. Andrea continues to walk towards the Walker. She stares up at it, pointing her flashlight up at it. Daryl walks over to her. I stay near the tent. Hoping and praying there's nothing inside that'll grab me. Their conversation is hushed but at the end of it daryl shoots the Walker before we start our walk back towards the highway.

When we arrive back at the rv Dale is down off of the roof. "Andrea. Wait." He says as Daryl and I walk into the rv. The door closes and Dale and Andrea stay outside.

"Come on ya needa go to sleep" Daryl says as I take a seat at the table. I shake my head. I haven't been actually able to sleep more than a few hours in days. Maybe it's the stress, or it's sleeping in cars. "Can't" I whisper. He sighs "just C'mere" he says as he sits down on the pallet of blankets, he's laid down on the floor of the rv for himself. I hesitantly get up and walk over to him. He gestures for me to lay down next to him and I do. He wraps his arms around my body pulling me closer. He's warm, so warm, and comforting. Human touch was comforting. His arms wrapped around me, and his chin resting against the top of my head. The warmth that emitted off of his body was better than any blanket.

I'm getting too attached, I know that. I'm falling in love. I can't do that, definitely not now. either of us could die any day now. it's just not right. but it's just so hard not to, I've never felt like this before. I don't even know what we are! I really like him, and he told me he liked me at the CDC, but did he like me enough to consider me his girlfriend? I definitely liked him a lot, but did he like me that much. did he just like me in a sexual matter? did he just want someone to hug and kiss? these times were really lonely, even with the group around, I guess I still longed for normalcy. a normal life, with normal friend, and a normal house. I really wanted that not people I'm forced to live with, not being forced to sleep in tents and cars. maybe he wanted that too, maybe I'm overreading the relationship. maybe I'm overreacting.

I fell asleep fast though, maybe it was the warmth, maybe it's because I feel safe, like actually safe. I've noticed that I've felt safer around Daryl ever since we came back from the city. I feel less tense around him, like I can actually relax and not worry. I know I'm safe around him, I know he'll protect me. I've never felt safer than I am right now, with his arms wrapped around me, his chin pressed against the top of my head, his heartbeat, his thumb rubbing small circles against my back.

i need to talk to him. I'll kill myself with anxiety if I don't. I need to know what we are, i need to know if he likes me just as much as I like him. I need to know.

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@e1d0lonk3k @soul4death @furiousheartpoetry @silicone-bonez @nezukos-number1fan @your-shifting-gurl @maziejay08 @oi-itse

[the-name-is-z]

SKELETONS | ch. 35

daryl dixon x f!oc

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Summary: The winter has passed at the prison, and as the group settles to go for a run, a couple walkers crash the party. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; daryl is beloved by all; walker swarm; poor decisions reflecting on everyone; injury; implied alcoholism; canonical character death

Chapter 35 - Risk

By the time summer rolled around, the prison community had vastly changed. Aside from growing in population, the area was surrounded by greenery. It made the harsh walls of the prison look a little more homely. 

The field was now not only home to their graveyard but to a beautiful, flourishing garden filled with as many plants as Hershel could handle, a horse pen as well as a small pig pen. There were makeshift planters filled with potted plants and wildflowers, as well as a large outdoor common area where they kept the rainwater, the kitchen they built and a covered collection of tables where everyone sat to eat.

The cells themselves were now home to much more personalizations, each person having decorated the space to suit themselves. Daryl and Iris both gave in to sleeping in the cells, despite their aversion to the concept. It was far easier sleeping on the cots in a cell than having people trip over you on their way to the bathroom in the night. 

As for the community themselves, there was a few small differences. Iris often complained that Maggie must have been tired hauling around the enormous diamond on her engagement ring from Glenn. Carl and Daryl both had longer hair, avoiding Carol’s offer to cut their hair like the plague. Even Iris avoided Carol’s offers, her hair was the longest it had ever been and she was enjoying the small slice of vanity it gave her in trying times such as these. 

Iris smiled, bemused as Daryl made a face, sauntering over to her and Carol, who was handing out breakfast. He had explained to her in confidence that he was not used to so many people greeting him with a friendly face or a ‘good morning’, and found it particularly unsettling. It made Iris burst out laughing at the time. They simply felt indebted to him, or fond toward him after they saved them all from Woodbury. It made Iris a little uncomfortable at first, too, but she hid it a little better.

“Smells good.” Daryl stated, accepting the bowl of food from Carol with a nod.

“Just so you know, I liked you first.” She joked, in reference to his little fan club. He rolled his eyes.

“You know, Rick and Iris brought a lot of them in, too.” He grumbled. “Yeah, but we don’t do the same rugged brooding you do.” Iris stated, making a mocking grumpy face. Daryl grimaced. 

“And not recently.” Carol pointed out. “Giving the stranger sanctuary, keeping people fed, you’re gonna have to learn to live with the love.”

“Right.” He said sardonically, ignoring the comment and indulging in the homemade breakfast. 

“I need you two to see something.” Carol stated, pulling Iris by the elbow to the other side of the kitchen counter. “Patrick, you want to take over?”

“Yes ma’am!” The enthusiastic young man called, practically rushing to take the wooden spoon Carol offered him. He adjusted his glasses as he looked up at Daryl. “Uh, Mr. Dixon? I just wanted to thank you for bringing that deer back yesterday. It was a real treat, sir. And I’d be honoured to shake your hand.” He extended his hand to Daryl, who pointedly sucked the food off of his fingers before shaking the kid’s hand. Patrick grinned at him before Carol led them away.

“Weird kid.” Daryl grunted.

“Oh, come on. He just admires you. At least he’ll look you in the eyes.” Iris argued. Carol laughed.

“That kid has the biggest crush on you.” She teased. Iris made a face.

“It was sweet at first, now I’m just worried about him.” She muttered. Daryl snorted.

“We all are.” He replied. Iris returned his comment with an elbow to the side.

“Yet another reason he wants to be like you.” Carol said pointedly, looking to Daryl.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Daryl asked. Carol simply replied with a smirk, leaving Iris and Daryl to glance at each other before following after her. 

“About today, I don’t know if we’re gonna be able to spare a lot of people for the run.” Carol explained, changing the subject.

“That place is good to go. We’re gonna move on it.” He replied.

“Yeah.” Carol agreed. “Thing is, we had a pretty big buildup overnight.” She paused as they reached the courtyard fence, overlooking the yard and the outer fence. Groups of walkers converged on certain sections, clawing and tearing at the chain link. It was bowing in the middle like it was made of paper. At this point, the fence was almost entirely supported by wooden posts they wrought from trees, and groups of people were right in there, stabbing at the walkers to try and mitigate the pressure on the fence.“Dozens more toward tower three. It’s getting as bad as last month. They don’t spread out anymore.”

“With more of us in here, we’re drawing more of them out.” Daryl observed. “You get enough of those damn fence-clingers, they start to herd up.”

“Pushing against the fences again.” Carol muttered. “It’s manageable, but unless we get ahead of it, not for long.” She turned to Daryl. “Sorry, Pookie.” He scoffed, nudging her with his elbow before jerking his chin at Iris back to the prison. 

They began to load up the truck for their run, shoving jerry cans of extra gas and a few crates of weapons and tools for emergency purposes. They had plenty of bags and boxes for anything good they could find, as well as plenty of ammo and extra food. Zach, a young man a few years older than Patrick, offered to join in on the run, tired of working at the prison all day. He and Beth were currently in a relationship, and he was apparently, as Beth had described in confidence, stifling. 

“Hey.” The young boy called over as Beth walked past. “I was just gonna come find you.” She smiled brightly, kissing him sweetly.

“What’s up?” She asked. 

“Well, the council pulled back everyone on the coal crew from going on the run. They’re shorthanded right now. I figured I’d step up to help, go with ‘em. Just, you know, wanted to make sure that I saw you before.” He explained, gazing at her dreamily. Iris raised an eyebrow.

“Okay.” Beth replied apathetically, staring rather blankly.

“I just— ‘cause, you know, it’s dangerous going out there.” He continued. Beth chuckled.

“I know.” She replied, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek.

“You’re not going off to war, kid. We’ll keep you in one piece.” Iris said, clapping him on the back as she rounded the truck bed. Beth smiled before turning away, making her way to the kitchens.

“Okay, are you gonna say goodbye?” Zach called.

“Nope.” Beth called back. Daryl snorted.

“It’s like a damn romance novel.” He chided, walking past Zach with a crate of water bottles. 

“How many romance novels have you read, Dixon?” Iris asked, leaning over the truck. He raised an eyebrow at her, not deigning to reply. She laughed, shaking her head. 

“You coming?” He asked, looking up at her. She nodded, following after him and clambering onto the back of his bike. They moved out of the courtyard in their little convoy toward Rick and Michonne, who had just returned on a horse from a run of her own. “Well, well, look who’s back.”

“Didn’t find him.” Michonne replied. 

“Glad to see you’re alright.” Iris told her. She nodded.

“I’m thinking of looking over near Macon.” Michonne explained. Rick sighed, glancing away. “It’s worth a shot.”

“Seventy miles of walkers.” Daryl replied, whistling. “You might run into a few unneighbourly types. Is it?” They all paused, letting the silence speak for them. “We’re gonna go check out the Big Spot. The one I was talking about, just seeing.”

“Yeah, I gotta go out and check the snares.” Rick nodded. “I don’t wanna lose whatever we catch to the walkers.”

“I’ll go.” Michonne offered.

“You just got here!” Carl protested, frowning.

“And I’ll be back.” She assured, smiling as she headed off to join the convoy. Rick ran over to the front, opening it up for their group to pass through. Daryl, Iris, Bob, Sasha, Tyreese, Glenn, Michonne and Zach.

They headed off toward a huge warehouse store, one they’d seen together on a previous run. The place was surrounded by chain link fences, the courtyard it created filled with army tents, a couple tanks and armoured trucks. There was a big American flag stationed out front, a little torn, a little bloodied. Very symbolic. Daryl explained their investigation to Bob, who they found out in the woods just last week. Apparently he was an army medic. Very eager to help, and eager to please Sasha. 

“Army came in and put these fences up, made it a place for people to go. Last week when we spotted this place, there was a bunch of walkers behind this chain-link, keeping people out like a bunch of guard dogs.” Daryl continued. There was a large hole cut into the fence, covered in blood and viscera from various people and walkers that clearly tried to squeeze their way through.

“So they all just left?” Bob asked.

“Give a listen.” Sasha replied. There was loud music blaring from speakers out in the distance.

“You drew ‘em out.” Michonne gathered.

“Put a boom box out there three days ago.” Sasha replied, grinning.

“Hooked it up to two car batteries.” Glenn added.

“Alright, let’s do a sweep. Make sure it’s safe. Grab what you can, we’ll come back tomorrow with more people.” Daryl explained as they filed in through the hole in the fence. Iris gripped her rifle,  eyes sharp as they moved through the camp. Daryl moved to the windows of the store, slamming his elbow on them a few times to draw walkers. “Just give it a second.” He said to Zach, who leaned against the wall beside him. Iris moved to the window, sliding down to sit on the ground beside Daryl.

“Okay, I think I got it.” Zach stated suddenly, standing up straight. Iris chuckled, shaking her head.

“Got what?” Michonne asked.

“I’ve been trying to guess what Daryl did before the turn.” He explained.

“He’s been trying to guess for like, six weeks.” Daryl grumbled.

“Yeah, I’m pacing myself. One shot a day.” Zach continued.

“Alright, shoot.” Daryl hummed.

“Well, the way you are at the prison, you being on the council, you’re able to track, you’re helping people, but you’re still being kind of ah… surly.” Iris snorted, Michonne’s facial expression saying all they needed to know. Daryl waited, his expression deadpan. “Big swing here… homicide cop.” Michonne snickered, leaning into the wall. Iris pressed her lips together, looking away to keep from laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Daryl asked, nudging her with his foot. 

“Nothing. It makes perfect sense.” Michonne replied, still stifling her smile. At this, Iris burst out laughing, shaking her head.

“Actually, the man’s right. Undercover.” Daryl stated. Zach’s face lit up, elated. 

“Come on, really?” The kid asked.

“Yep. I mean, I don’t like to talk about it, ‘cause it was a lot of heavy shit, you know?” He murmured. Iris was smiling to herself and Zach narrowed his eyes, his face falling.

“Dude, come on, really?”

“No.” Daryl replied, clearing his throat. Iris chuckled.

“Okay, I’ll just keep guessing, I guess.”

“Yeah, you keep doing that.” 

“Okay, what about us?” Michonne asked. “Do Iris.”

“Oh, god.” Iris rolled her eyes, pulling her knees to her chest. “Hit me, Zach.”

“Oh, I never had to guess. Good poker face, never show any kind of fear, you always know what to say. You were definitely some kind of stage performer.” He said definitively. It was Daryl’s turn to snort, stifling laughter. Iris scoffed. Zach looked between the three of them. “What, am I wrong?”

“Well, mechanics are known for their love of theatre.” Iris stated, raising an eyebrow. Zach pursed his lips in disappointment while Iris elbowed Daryl in the shin. The kid jumped sky high as a walker slammed against the window from the inside of the store, right behind Daryl. Iris looked up as a second tried to gnash their teeth into Zach through the glass. 

“You wanna do this, detective?” Iris asked, using Daryl’s knee to push herself to her feet. He nodded, jerking his chin at the door.

“Let’s do it.” He agreed. Tyreese pushed the automatic doors open and they made quick work of the pair of walkers, dragging them outside.

“Alright.” Iris cleared her throat. “We go in, stay in formation for the sweep. After that, we all have our grocery lists. Questions?” No one said anything. “Let’s get to it.”

The group of them slowly filed into the store, looking around as they cleared any remaining walkers. There was less than a handful before they split off to their tasks. Iris was helping Daryl in the pharmacy department when they heard Bob let out a yell before a large crash echoed through the store. They came running, finding him trapped under a shelf that had toppled over. Glass from broken wine bottles littered the floor, and Iris cringed.

“You alright?” Daryl asked, shining his flashlight underneath the scope the situation. “You cut or something?”

“Nah, man, but my foot is caught.” Bob replied, wincing as he tried to pull it free from under the shelf. 

“Alright. He’s just caught. Come on, help me out.” Daryl explained, ushering Zach and Tyreese over to lift the shelves. 

“What happened?” Glenn called, running over.

“Everyone’s alright. We’re over in wine and beer.” Zach replied. They managed to lift the first shelf off of him, Tyreese crouching down to inspect the second.

“I was moving fast, man. I drove right into the drinks.” Bob explained with a nervous laugh. Daryl and Iris exchanged a look. Coincidental. They were both no strangers to people and alcoholism.

“Man, you lucked out. If this thing had come down on you the wrong way…” Tyreese murmured. 

Iris looked up as a drop of water landed on her shoulder. She shone her flashlight upward, finding the ceiling bowing right above them, a hell of a lot of water damage on the roof. She poked Daryl, pointing up at it just as a walker must have walked over a soft spot. It crashed through the ceiling, its skin catching on a piece of ceiling and ripping him open from neck to navel. Its innards rained down on the store, the body swinging by its intestines. 

“Yeah, we should probably go now.” Glenn mumbled.

“Bob’s still stuck. Get him out of there.” Daryl replied. Michonne opened her mouth but was interrupted as another walker fell through the ceiling. Another, and another. Like it was raining bodies. They all scattered, trying to avoid the next weak spot.

“Hey!” Bob cried out in fear. A shot rang out, Glenn prying them off of himself. Another, another. Guess they were saying goodbye to stealth. Iris and Daryl kept a decent berth around the fallen shelves as Bob continued to cry out. 

“Here!” Daryl called. He hauled Iris up beside him onto a small stack of boxes, the pair of them surrounded. He kicked the walkers away as they reached up for them. Iris glanced upward to the first hole in the ceiling, blanching. Directly above them, in the weak spot, was the remains of a military chopper, crashed on the roof. If they stayed any longer, they could be completely crushed.

“We have to move!” Iris said hurriedly, pulling out her pistol and joining Daryl in picking off the walkers one by one. Glenn came over, helping them out as the helicopter began to shift. “Daryl!” He jumped down after her, the two of them diving out of the way. 

“Get Bob!” Zach called. Daryl pulled the closest walker away from Bob, Zach using every ounce of his strength to lift the shelf off of him. Bob clambered out, scrambling forward as the roof started to crash down around them.

Zach suddenly screamed and they all turned back to see a walker with its teeth sunken deep into his ankle. Iris’ stomach dropped as they watched him be dragged to the floor and ripped into. 

“Go! Go!” Daryl yelled as more roof began to fall. They left Zach there as they all tore out of the building, the helicopter finally falling to the inside of the store.

-

TAGLIST:

@heidiland05

@ryoujoking

@catlalice

@maxinehufflepuffprincess

@lowkeyhottho

@fadingpalacebonkpsychic

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

The first Christmas “without,” Pt. 2

Happy Candlemas! Here’s Part 2, and remember, you can still technically say Merry Christmas until 11:59/23:59 tonight

When - Part 1 was 35ish minutes after A fu---n’ great Christmas, which takes place in between season 2 and 3. Part 2 is approximately 3 minutes after Part 1 ends. We’ve made a brief time skip from souls stripped bare.

What - the first major holiday without loved ones is hard. The first major holiday without loved ones because one of your loved ones was killed by another loved one is somewhat harder. (for those who are newer Slowpokes, Shane was your older brother)

**Note that some plot points haven’t actually been published yet, they are  merely discussed or alluded to because the series is non linear**  

Relationships - slow burn Daryl x Reader always, therefore you’re still snuggled in the mangy hick’s poncho and wishing your crush away, but this chapter was focused more on the found-family aspect of the series. Part 2 specifically deals with your familial relationship with Rick -- and how much hurt and anger you’re still working through after what happened with Shane.

Perspective - 2nd person You, 3rd Him (Daryl)

Pronouns? - they/them

TWs? - some foul language, memories about the farm getting overrun (without gore), anger over a family member being killed by another family member, discussion of grieving, and more of my dumb using-dreams-to-relay-past-events as found in That mangy hick!

Word count - longer than Part 1, but if you read both together, do set aside some downtime and get comfy and snuggly in something cozy. Dare I say, in a poncho, perhaps?

What stories to read or reread - “All of them!” the author cackles Part 1, of course, A fu--in’ great Christmas, The Chicken Swim, Too much thinking before bed, Part 2 and Ain’t nothing... are the ones most pertinent to this chapter.

Check out the  Masterlist, slowpoke, it’s got all the published chapters and reader requests :)

.........................

3 minutes later, after discussing a possible chicken swim/penguin plunge with Glenn before you left him to the music and walked back alone slowly

Okay, maybe remembering your chicken swim with Amy, when Shane so diligently stood watch from the shore with a canoe at the ready (and Daryl saw you swim in a t-shirt, shorts, and socks), maybe remembering that put you back at square one, because before you know it, the pendant is in your hands again.

You just feel so off.

T-Dog and Carol are sitting at the fire outside now. Aw, T-Dog took off his Santa hat. He’s still in the red Dawgs shirt Daryl gave him, though.

As you rub the ‘22’ between your fingers and over your lips, you greet the two of them with a (yawn and a) “Hey y’all, how’s the turkey going?”  

Carol waves her fingers and smiles.

Ooh yummy, what are they making? They seem to be mixing…you aren’t sure what in the bowl, but it’s mushy. Boiled and mashed tubers, maybe? If so, that’s good, Carol has been craving starch like it’s nobody’s business.

“Hershel’s almost done with his tea, then he’ll use that meter thingy,” she lets you know, right before T-Dog teases, “Glenn’s and your bickering about him again was a fun surprise.”

He gets a mildly British-sounding response out of you. “Yes, we had a lovely time.”

“Who won this round?” he chuckles. “I asked Glenn already, but wanna to compare your answers.”  

“Neither of us.” Well, come to think of it, “Mr. Greene.”

“Ha! See that, Carol? Same answer, I gotta tell Hersh about this, just a sec.”

While he pokes his head into the little building and announces his findings, you sigh at Carol. That’s when you notice that there’s…no turkey in sight. Which is a little concerning, where’d it go?  

Oh no, it wasn’t all wormy, right?

You stare into space as you rub, rub, rub the pendant. Well, the smaller cooler is kinda sitting on the ground in the middle of everything, so you use that as your chair.

“The meat’s brining in there, if you’re wondering,” Carol explains.  

Ah, got it. Phew.

She yawns as she goes into it a little more. “We don’t want a repeat of that wild turkey we had what, about a month ago at this point? Oh my—at Thanksgiving. Golly, I forgot about Thanksgiving,” she mumbles to herself.

“There was no fat on the poor, sad thing. Nasty,” T-Dog narrates, catching her yawn on his way back with a dishtowel, and covering the bowl of mushy stuff with it. “Though, we did a fair job on it, gotta say.”

You nod. You’d actually really enjoyed it, but maybe that’s because you were really hungry? Ah, and you’ve caught the yawn, now. Yawns really are contagious.

Carol and him keep chatting. “Mmhm, very little fat, and that was a month ago. Having one now, this late in the season—”

“—Could be even more nasty, we gotta be extra careful,” T-Dog finishes for her. “Y’all caught a big boy, though,” he says to you, “this guy was plump. I have a good feelin’ about him.”

Nodding away, Carol starts talking about how “My great aunts and my meemaw knew how to cook it well. When I was a girl, that’s what we ate at Thanksgiving and Easter.”

“Thank the Lord I was a city boy,” he announces, cracking up. “We had good stuff like glazed ham, mm, I didn’t have to eat none of that wild, gamey turkey.”

“They’d make four different types of gravy to go with our wild turkey.”

“Four? You’re gonna make my stomach growl even louder, now, Carol. Y/N, the woman is trying to torture me, I know it.” T-Dog is even more adorable when he’s crushing on someone, hot damn. He’s a tad too old for you personally, but everybody here knows you think he’s a catch. Probably even him, if you’re being frank. “My uncle, he had this recipe for cornmeal gravy—outta this world. You and I should have a gravy-off, get some heft back on our people’s bones.”  

She tilts her head in consideration but looks hesitant before asking, “Should I try and send the six of you out on a supply run for some grease and flour?”

You’d be down. “I’d be down.” If anything but to stop Carl, Beth, and Lori from losing any more weight. Oh Moses, wait up —“If we find cornmeal, is there a way to make hushpuppies?”

“Find more oil, I’ll try,” Carol is quick to offer, yawning again. “Are you gonna head to the cars for a nap? I know I’m going to once the cooki—um, what’s in the bowl, once these are done.”

T-Dog just snickers. “Same, we all need more sleep after last night. So, Y/N,” he turns to you, “everytime we talk about food, it’s the hushpuppies, gummy sharks, that puffcorn stuff, or applesauce for you. Or Indian food. Or bananas. Oh right, or peanut butter tomato sandwiches.”

Carol groaned with you when he said the last one; you’re both fans of those and you’re both belly-aching for some food.

“I crave what I crave, Teddy.”

“Plus catfish nuggets, am I wrong?” he guffaws (yes, ‘guffaws’).

“…To go with the hushies.”

“And cheesy curls, can’t forget. Oh, and corn dogs—you got a corn thing, don’t you?”

Which is entirely true, but you’d also go for a plain, grilled hot dog, oh my gosh. “Been hungry, Breakfast King,” you snark back.

He cracks up and holds his hands open. “I earned that title. I made the best eggs y’all ever had that day, powdered or otherwise, admit it. The grits were creamy and lush, go on. Whoever stocked the CDC knew to get clarified butter down there, made all the difference.” He puffs out his chest slightly. “But I coulda swung it outta the park even without.”

You share a nod with Carol as your fingers grasp the pendant again. “It was best breakfast I’d ever eaten.” All true. Objectively, food-wise.

After about two months with no cheese or much food-food, given the supply chain issues due to the world effectively collapsing, the spread T-Dog made for breakfast at the CDC was heavenly. Would’ve been really good even during the before-times. How he got those powdered eggs to taste so fresh, you don’t know.

Those not so good memories, however, are really poking a stick in the gears, though. You can faintly hear the tink, tink, tink of your chain as you pull the pendant back and forth, back and forth. An uneasy, sick feeling twists in your belly when you remember it.

It was a barely two hours after breakfast when you’d all nearly died and Jacqui and Dr. Jenner committed suicide. Then about two months later, you’d finally learned why Shane had broken down wailing and Lori had looked shell shocked and scared the night before.  

Shane wasn’t really one to get drunk, yet he had that night. He was going a little crazy, you guess, and things had been, um…

Your brother wasn’t a bad person, he wasn’t. He just lost himself and thought he couldn’t come back.

But when Shane spilled to you that awful night at Hershel’s farm what he’d started blindly trying to do to Lori at the CDC, your first reaction came from deep within. You didn’t see a man you recognized, and you thought you hated the man you did see. You may have actually hated Shane for a short while. Almost as much as you hated Rick when you knew for certain that he’d killed him.

“Careful not to break the chain,” Carol gently murmurs, perking you out of it.

Shoot, you’d been doing the tuggy pully thing again. Sometimes, when you start thinking about what happened, you end up squeezing and rubbing Shane’s ‘22’ pendant too hard when you tug and pull it back and forth.

Okay yeah, you’re falling hard back into that intense anger about what happened, it’s not good. You cannot sink back down into that unhappy, unhealthy place.

And you really don’t want to break the chain, so: you ignore your growing frustration that you can’t just get over it already, then imagine a stupid tea kettle being taken off the stupid burner before thinking your stupid mantra again.

…I don’t hate Rick…I don’t hate Rick, I love him, I love my Rick, Rick is my brother…you love him, Y/N, you don’t hate him…you don’t hate Shane, either…now take the kettle off the burner…you don’t hate either of them…you don’t hate Rick…it’s okay if you want to cry, just remember that you don’t hate Rick, you love Rick…

“Hey guys,” Glenn calls over, further helping you snap back to reality. Maggie’s hand in his, he returns the music player and thanks you. “Gonna crash for a little while in the Chevy, I think.”  

With a slow exhale, you bring yourself back to whatever the heck was going on before this, something to do with food, right?

Right, yeah, breakfast at the CDC.  

It’s true, T-Dog had indeed made bananas-good food the morning at the CDC. And that was with a total lack of (actual bananas, and) potatoes, sausage (therefore gravy), fresh cheese, you could go on for a while.

“Man, the things I’d do for some eggs,” you hear him groan. You turn to see him quickly look away from you.

Ah, you’d though the delivery sounded a touch too emphatic; T-Dog was putting on extra in trying to revert your attention back to lighthearted stuff. Guess your internal mantra-break was noticeable. Also, that darn tuggy pully thing.

Whatever, he’s distracting you with all his food talk because he cares. “Scrambled eggs,” he details, “with sautéed onions and pimento cheese, and bacon or chorizo, obviously. Buttered marble rye, fluffy biscuits with some white gravy. Hashbrowns…”

You peek over at Carol. Her cravings are usually for potatoes, overcooked macaroni salad, or anything from Waffle House. The woman just wants some starch and to not have to cook, dude.

Last night, that 16oz can of potatoes she’d used with Christmas Eve dinner had been *heaven* for her. The sharing of it, however, that part was more like ‘purgatory,’ so she joked in the car late last night after you’d all escaped the herd.  

She looks wistful for a moment, then says to T-Dog, “Other than you and Rick, everyone here knows what leaves and stalks to look for. We’re bound to come across some potato plants in a backyard garden one of these days.”

“And I will make you hashbrowns to die for.”

Carol cringes in her shy, polite way. He’d chosen the wrong descriptive verb choice. “Maybe not that good, T-Dog.”

“Aw man, uh, hashbrowns to ‘cry over,’” he rephrases it. “Hold up — we could do a hashbrown bowl like at Waffle House!”

Now she’s got on her shy, dainty smile. “Perfect.”

T-Dog then turns his gaze over to you. “Now, Y/N, Rick’s coming back with Daryl.”  

Ugh, please not now, Teddy.  

You know what he’s gonna suggest, and you don’t want to. You did your mantra thing, that’s plenty.  

I don’t hate Rick, I don’t hate Rick, I don’t hate Rick, I love Rick…  

“Go over there and remind yourself you don’t hate him,” he directs.

Which you deflect with a lame, “Daryl don’t prefer hugs.”

Which in turn, earns you a look. “You know who I mean,” T-Dog tuts. “Hug your brother — and don’t go telling me he ain’t your real brother, I know full well you was raised not caring about that stuff and that it don’t matter these days anyhow. Now go on, go hug him, or something.” He sighs and gestures to you. It’s much less stern when he next says, “I think the holiday is starting to get to you. And you’ve got somethin’ particular going on.”

Yeah, yeah, the first holiday ‘without,’ you get it.  

But apparently you must have huffed out loud, because T-Dog next hums nuh-uh and cautions, “Don’t you go getting huffy at me, now, troublemaker.”

“We had Thanksgiving, that was a major holiday.”

“Wasn’t the same, you were completely focused on Hershel then.”

Okay, fair, but, “Okay fair, but we’re all having the first Christmas w-with-wi—” it takes you a few times with your fucking stress stutter, “—without a bunch of loved ones, I ain’t special.”  

Sure, Glenn got a little testy and had a good cry, but he’s still chill. Carol’s not acting like a baby about her first Christmas without her daughter, and T-Dog himself isn’t acting like a baby about having no one he knew before the outbreaks.

So why is he acting like you’ve got something ‘particular going on’ today? Are you that fragile? You were having a (fuckin’) great Christmas, Daryl even said it!

Yet, as vulnerable and therefore mad about it as you feel, you can’t stay upset.  

Not after the way Teddy so plainly but delicately points out, “Our situations are different.”

It stops you in your tracks and makes fact that he was once an intimidating defensive back and occasional running back for the Bulldogs seem unbelievable. You also begin to feel less…ashamed, that you’re still so fucking broken after what happened. The situation with Shane is different.

…I don’t hate Rick, I don’t hate Rick, I don’t hate Shane, I love them both, please help me remember that I’m just angry again right now, I don’t really hate Rick, I love him so much…

You’re back to fiddling with the ‘22’ pendant, but it’s cool, you aren’t tugging on the chain this time.

“Go on, or I’ll make you two wear a get-along shirt,” Carol prompts. “Oh, and don’t mention the cookie batter, T-Dog, Beth and I want to keep it a surprise.”

“The what, now?” ......................

Him

Y/N is walking over.

That they’re wearing the hat he gave them made him wanna stand taller, and that they’re still in his poncho made him feel warm. It was a warmth unrelated to the fact that they’d switched coats earlier today.

Weird thing is, Y/N seemed cozier in his poncho underneath their zip-up hoodie than they’d seemed in their own oversized, old, woolly, fluff-lined jacket. It didn’t make much sense to him, but his poncho was pretty sweet and it reached longer down Y/N’s body, which would keep their butt warm and all that.  

Y/N’s coat is nice. Old, but that made it better. Except, when Rick saw him wearing the coat, he’d frozen like he’d seen a ghost then got this glazed kinda look in his eyes.

Seeing the jacket on somebody who filled it out properly was prolly what done it. It, um, originally it had been Y/N and Shane’s dad’s jacket. After their dad died, maybe 16ish years ago, their ma would wear it around to remember him, then Shane started wearing it as his coat. So really, it was Shane’s for all those years.

Yeah, the coat has some baggage. Comfy though.

“It’s a good jacket,” was all Rick said before he blinked a few times and lead him on a short walk to discuss the food and security brief he had with T-Dog, Glenn, and Maggie earlier. He and Y/N missed the info when they were hunting that turkey.

Maybe it helped Rick zen out about food a little when Daryl ripped up some cattail tubers they passed. Carol really misses potatoes, and those roots are real starchy, so it’ll be close enough. It was one of the first things that crossed his mind when they got here last night and he saw the small lake.

“What roots are those?” Y/N calls to him, pointing.

Hey—what happened? Y/N looks like the wind got knocked out of them, they don’t look cheerful and happy at all. He’d only been with them around the fire like an hour ago, things were fine.

Is Hershel good? Did Y/N fight with Glenn agai—oh, never mind, got it; Shane’s chain is sticking out of their hoodie. They fidget with it more when they’re upset, usually when thinking about their dead brother and shit.

They’ve been doing pretty okay, so, dunno, maybe it’s just the holiday getting to them.

“Cattail,” he lets them know.

That nice feeling tickles his chest again when, with their mouth opens in recognition and a much happier look spreads on their face. They point at the tubers. “That’s the one we can use like a potato, then?”

He just smiles and nods; they’re on the same wavelength as him on this one, point proven when they look back at the fire for a sec before grinning and resting their hands on their hips. “Teddy said he’d make her hashbrowns, and we got enough oil and salt for those, some leftover flour if need be.” Their gaze switches to Rick. “Are there any other ingredients we’ll need for hashbrowns?”

Were they uncomfortable when they asked him that, or was that just his imagination?  

Also, why would they ask Rick? Everybody knows how to make a hashbrown, it’s a cut-up potato fried in a pan.

“Lore sometimes made them on Pancake Sundays,” Rick offered.

That’s gotta be an inside joke because next, them and Rick start to crack up.  

Scrunching their nose, Y/N giggles (and seems genuine about it). “Ain’t her fault her grandma had two terrible pancake recipes.”

“She didn’t have to follow the recipes every Sunday.”

“Especially buckwheat ones, oh, they were like dry little penances, Daryl,” Y/N fills him in, “he’s not full-wrong.” Turning back to Rick, they seem uncomfortable again when they say, “I’m gonna go crash for a bit before choring, but um, let’s listen to music together soon. It’ll be nice to do it at the lakeside.” An awkward kind of pause follows, then they go, “Hey, um, I never had hashbrowns at your place, were they, um, were they, w-were they good?”

“I mean, compared to the pancakes…” Rick trails off. He looks uncomfortable, too, but he’s trying to keep the joke going.

But Y/N must not like all the teasing about Lori’s cooking or whatever, because they stop looking as amused when they slowly repeat “Ricky, were they good?”

It looks like his head is getting heavy to hold up, the way it’s drooping some. He gives Y/N a sad kind of smile, the way people do when they’re apologizing. “Carl, Lore and I would eat the whole plate.”

.......................

You

Fine, maybe T-Dog is right. The day is getting to you maybe just possibly a pinch.

As you stomp over to the cars, you look back at T-Dog at the fireside and hold up a thumb with one hand and lift the other open-palmed to ask him if he was satisfied or not.

He makes no gesture back at first, then makes a shrug and holds his thumb up.  

Whatever. You throw open the door to the backseat of the Dodge, hop in, position the bright blue scarf into the door and yank it shut to show that you’re in there, then tuck yourself into the blanket and burrow into your pillow.

You love your stupid brother (yes, the one named Rick) so much, and-and things have been fine!  

Of course it would be on Christmas that you’d be acting like a little idiot bitch…but making fun of a spouse’s cooking isn’t your brand of humor, either, that was kind of a dick move from the dicktator.

Ricky-dicky doo, Ricky-pricky poo, Rickety-doo-dah…

Oh, right, um—when the bad things happened, you’d gone full postal, blindly wandered away, and got drunk for the first time. You’d started chanting something along those lines, then you’d made new lyrics to that ancient Disney song. Ridiculous and immature? Yes, but you were in a truly bad place.

Though, you are secretly proud of one insult you’d made after your world had gone blank: “Three cheers for Rick, putting the ‘dick’ in dictator!”

By God above, you’d thought that you’d hated him so much.

Well, really it’s only T-Dog who’s of the mind that you didn’t actually hate him; you know that you did.  

You have to adjust the pillow and flip to your back instead of your side. With the heel of your boot you then tap the lock shut for some ensured privacy, in case they don’t notice the bright blue warning scarf.

Hershel and Lori get it. Hershel simply reminds you about “mercy,” reminds you that you don’t hate Rick anymore, and will say a prayer. Lori encourages you to spend time together with him or more time with Carl.

You wish Dale were still here, and remember that you need to wind his watch and pray the “kad-ish” for him today. Dale would know what to say and do, could teach you how to get a grip. Heck, maybe the fact that he’d just died back when it all happened had been a catalyst for how deep you’d dived.

It had been so bad at first. Your hatred and all that dark stuff had been so thorough and you’d felt so completely empty and lost that you’d…

…you’d left the group.

You’d left your Carl. It was that fucking complete.

That bad, bad night, you’d attacked Rick, insulted him, threatened him. The others had to take your weapons away, they’d also had to restrain you, a lot. Something in you just fucking snapped when you knew what Rick did to your brother. To his own brother.  

And you’d been hoping he’d off you, too, but he didn’t. Didn’t pull his gun or his knife, even with your encouragements.

Then you accidentally broke him. That’s the term you think best describes what he looked like. It was like a short-circuit.

All it took was three words, “So was he.”

He’d been trying to tell you that he was still your brother, he still loved you. Each response you made to him was simple enough, but each somehow acted like a tranq dart.  

Maybe it’s because you’re so tired, but you can call to mind so vividly how words couldn’t seem to formulate in your head when you managed to utter “So was he.” Then the way your breathing had sped up and your voice started shaking and getting louder when you pushed back more against what he was saying with “So did he,” and how quickly it was followed by your stuttered, “Oh Ricky, s-so did I. I loved you so much...”  

And the final phrase, basic as it was, it wasn’t screamed or cursed, the “I hate you.” Those words stunned you when you thought them, they confounded you as you spoke them.  

Okay, pump the brakes a sec. Did you just think the word “confounded” to describe how you’d felt?  

Are you writing an English essay? Lol, take a breather, dude. You need to stop thinking about that night and get some rest, you’ll feel much better. “Confounded.” At least you’re smiling in embarrassment now.

Time to relax. You tighten all the muscles you can think of, then relax them. Tighten all your muscles, slowly, slowly, then relax. Tighten, relax.

You pray for strength and all that stuff while trying to picture happy things. Like when those two bunnies scurried past Daryl and you on a hunt and he didn’t notice them. When Carl woke up after his surgery. When Amy and you did the chicken swim. When Shane — no, no, this isn’t a happy memory, shit, no, this is when you saw who what was once Shane stand up — you can’t seem to shift away from the memory!

You didn’t know what was wrong at first. You’d seen Shane’s expression and assumed he’d gotten sacked in the jaw. Then you saw the color of his eyes. Even from the distance, it was plain as day that they weren’t his dark brown ones. They were those strange, terrible, light milky blue ones.

He’d turned.

To call out to Rick so that he could defend himself didn’t compute at the time; you’d forgotten about breathing never mind shouting. You simply stared as Shane your brother’s body reached and prowled toward Rick as you clung to Carl’s shirt so he wouldn’t leave your sight.

In your side vision, you noticed your nephew drawing his gun, and thankfully there was enough rattling around in your brain that you knew to unclasp your hand from the death grip you’d had on his shirt so you could guide and steady his aim. That way it would be less likely for Rick to accidentally get injured when Carl and you put down your brother’s body.  

The memory of the loud pop of the handgun and the slight recoil makes your hands twitch — oh, thank God! You’re staring at the car’s ceiling.

You’re awake, it was just a dream. Explains why it all got so vivid, ugh, thank God.

Okay, happy thoughts, happy thoughts, good memories…

Holding your newborn niece for the first time while your brother-in-law cradled your middle sister in his arms. Mama squeaking when the new chicks hatched because they were so small and sweet. That time Shane and you were given all of the leftover catfish and hushpuppies free of charge from your local spot at 11:08pm because you’d both had very bad days.  

Shane...

The scene changes. You’re not in his Jeep outside the catfish joint anymore, you’re looking at his corpse. Ugh, that revolting word. ‘Corpse.’

You’re staring at the stab wound. You didn’t recognize it as such back then, what would you know about differentiating that stuff? You figured it was a clean bite or whatever the fuck — you don’t know, you’d been numb. You’d been confused. The things that Shane had been saying earlier that night, they didn’t make sense. And you’d heard raised voices before you (and Carl) had found your brother’s corpse rising up and making for Rick.  

Little doubts and red flags and warnings had started to gather to whiz around your head like flies on roadkill as you stared at the wound and his body, it was a disgusting mess in your mind.

Then, the only word that really stuck out in it was the word ‘shovels.’

Shovels were what you needed. To bury the dead, that’s what was needed.

Carl, you, and that murderer your brother? Rick were trudging back to the farm. You’d needed to find the shovels to bury Shane and you’d needed to get Carl back to his mama.

Except, then the herd came shuffling across the fields and slowly mowed through the livestock fencing.  

You know you’re asleep, but you can’t really wake up right now. But, the walkers in the distance quickly disappear in your mind’s eye because you smell...smoke?

The barn is on fire. The barn, there’s smoke coming from the barn, the barn is on fire!

Rick.

Rick had lit the damned barn on fire with him and Carl still in there after you’d sprinted back to the house to get the RV. The plan was you, as in you personally, would risk it and run and get them down from the hayloft by driving the RV. You were faster, and Rick was the better shot, so he’d stay with Carl and keep him alive, you’d sprint to get the RV. There was nothing about a goddamn fire, but Rick had the bright (no, pun not fucking intended) idea to set one.

So, Jimmy ended up driving, you were the spotter — shit.

Jimmy. That poor boy, that poor, sweet boy got rushed so goddamned fast, th-they just came plowing through the door when it should’ve been you! And there was no saving him, they’d gotten his neck first before ripping into the rest of him.

All you’d been able to do for that selfless, brave kid was stop his pain with a bul — WHOA, what the fu — okay, okay, you’re awake again! 

You’re awake. Your heartbeat is trying to outrun itself, but you’re okay, you’re awake. You’d fallen asleep again, oh man...

Deep breaths, it was just a dream. Just another memory.

Your foot, it, um, it kicked the door when you jolted awake. The memory of pulling the trigger caused you to dream up a super loud pop in your ears and a realistic thud in your chest.  

Objectively, it’s kinda cool how the brain can do that, but it’s really unpleasant when you are trying to rest and not break down or boil over on a major holiday.

You know what? You shouldn’t have been sleeping on your back, silly Y/N, it’s easier to get nightmares and sleep paralysis and stuff on one’s back.  

New tactic: you’ll listen to songs that help you cry.

That’ll make you feel worse initially, but then much better! Glenn did it, he’s probably fine. You’ll let all the anger and hurt come up and flow out and away.

You shimmy the mp3 player from your pocket and queue up the remastered Mona Lisa, the song from The OC that played when Ryan’s mom left, then Dare You to Move and It's So Hard To Say Goodbye To Yesterday (yes, you’re an embarrassment), then that opera one that your mama first heard in the romantic Italian movie about the Holocaust, and some sad Johnny Cash music from his older years. You’re not brave enough yet to listen to Going to California to calm down and feel better. Haven’t been since Shane was killed. Your dad had loved the song way too much for some reason, so your family loved it. Shane listened to it way too often.

There you go about Shane again, jeez. But it’s cool, it’s cool — let it all come up and flow out.  

You turn to your side facing the seat and try falling asleep again, curled like a roll-up bug while the music softly plays.

It’s good that your stuff was shoved into the Dodge during the mad rush last night, because the Chevy was the truck you’d driven away in, that night escaping from the Greene’s farm. You wouldn’t want to be in that truck right now, it’s hard enough trying to not obsess over that night.

Maybe if you remember the good parts of that night? Rick had busted through that skylight thing in the RV the night the farm was overrun, after what you’d had to do for Jimmy.  

Rick had busted through it, hopped down and got you out of there. He saved you.

Once out of there, you’d glued yourself to Carl’s side, rescued Hershel, then all clambered into the red Chevy and floored it.  

Come morning, the survivors all found each other at the highway.

Felt like a miracle; you still had a family, still had people.

Hell, you still had all your stuff; it was packed in the Hyundai that Glenn and Maggie got away in because you and Shane were supposed to...

...you were supposed to leave for a while, let things blow over. Help Shane come back to himself, remember his goodness. No one was past redemption.

…I love Rick, I love Shane, I love Rick, I don’t hate Rick, I don’t hate him, I love him, I love Rick, I love Shane…

Jimmy and Shane you already knew were gone, when the group found each other. It was bad enough letting Beth and Hershel know about him, but least you didn’t have to tell Jimmy’s mother what happened and how you couldn’t save her child. You see, Patricia didn’t make it, either.  

Neither did Andrea, which — okay, you still can’t shake the notion that you’d seen her after she was supposed to have gotten killed. Maybe their time references were mixed up, but, it looked just like her and it hadn’t been moving like a walker, neither.

But, again, the memory situation is strange, you suppose. Clear as plastic wrap, yet messy, sort of like when the plastic wrap clings to itself.  

The next afternoon, when Rick had walked off after telling all of you that you were infected, you hadn’t known that he admitted to Lori what he did to Shane right then and there.  

Because, no, you’d immediately taken responsibility and done what needed doing, just like your brother would have, which was rounding up a group to get water, firewood, and something to eat.

You need water, warmth, food and wits to survive, so you desperately clung to whatever wits you still had and tried to ensure that there’d be water, warmth, and food.

As for that strange, cruel, awful, messy whispering you’d had in your head since the night before, that Rick somehow killed Shane? Because of the shouts and screams you’d heard, how Rick (and Shane’s body) looked like they’d been fighting, that Rick had blood all over his hand, how Shane’s wound looked so neat and clean compared to other bites, because of the strange things Shane was saying the last time you saw him?

Well, you’d shoved all that down and away and shamed yourself for thinking it because it was impossible. 

It was your wits running away from you, not anything that could have been true. They were brothers. They were your brothers, and you had a damned job to do — doing something to keep who was still alive living, so to hell with all those awful red flags and questions in your head. Those questions were unfounded and stupid and wrong and impossible.

Which means, when Rick had that little outburst around the fire later that night…

Turns out, Shane had trained you very well how to fight. And how to fight multiple people off, including those who were bigger than you. It was quite the show, you imagine.

You still ended up restrained (you were too outnumbered) and thank God for it.

It was as if you’d turned into a rabid animal, you—you scared your Carl even more than he was already scared of his father, frightened Lori who was already frightened of her husband. Hell, you low-key terrified everybody, yourself included. All you saw was red, it was similar to that time you’d tried to beat up Ed Peletier, but amplified to eleven.

And yeah, you’d even left them that night. Your family.  

A knot forms in your stomach when you acknowledge it, so you curl up tighter. That you’re crying harder now is good, soon you’ll have it all out.

Here you are still, with your family, and again, thank God for it. Your rage lessened, you’re healing bit by bit. Rick’s darkness lessened, he’s healing bit by bit.  

Things got okay, and fairly fast, too.

You love him, you know that.

He loves you, you know that.

And as much as you can tell it rips him up inside even more, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s still easy for anger and hurt and even something like hatred to cloud you sometimes.

Anyways, T-Dog was right, maybe you’re having some trouble because it’s the first Christmas “without.”

…………………………..

> Spend time and remember you love Rick in the next chapter here <

> Masterlist link here <

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[normally-o-a-k]

Hey look a fanfiction

Scam/Jodie

Friends to lovers, multi chapter, barely hurt comfort anymore, no beta we die like Glenn, idk what to tag this I’ve never written fic before lmao, some body horror this chapter (descriptions of a creature that looks like the library)

Rating: it’s still pretty teen.

Chapter 4/?

Previous Chapter:

Absolutely delighted by the suggestion Scam sits back up on the couch. “Truth or dare hmm? Thats a bold choice~ Wouldn’t that be more fun with …. Let’s say one or two more players?” As he counts a blue and pink version of Scam appear on the couch on either side of him.

All three versions of Scam grin and eye Jodie like he’s on the menu.

“Or is it too overwhelming to be… let’s call it ‘outnumbered’ for now~”

Jodie figured he’d have some way of giving himself the advantage, But now faced with three versions of Chaos incarnate his confidence was starting to waver. “It’s fine. I can handle it”

“Oooh! Delightful! Tell me since you’re so brave, are we placing a wager? Perhaps the first to back out owes the other one favor~?” The grin that was spreading across Scam’s face had Jodie’s mouth feeling a bit too dry.

“I’ll take that bet… But one rule, no dares that magically change my life…. Deal?” Like hell he was going to play if he was going to pull something like he did to Ron again.

“Deal~ this is a friendly game, I’m not looking to avenge anyone this time so you can relax~ “ he holds out a slightly too long hand to shake on it and Jodie, who’s starting to think he made a mistake, shakes before he can change his mind. “ Go ahead then you brave boy~ start the game~”

Jodie sits back on the couch trying to feign confidence. “Ok. Truth or dare?”

The original Scam laughs “I believe it was Ron who said dare was the sexier option~ so go ahead! Hit me with your best dare~”

Shit. He’d been hoping for truth so he could get him to admit he’s been messing with him. “I dare you not to use any magic for the rest of the night” Jodie grins right back at Scam.

“Ohhh? Interesting! cut me off then~ These two will disappear on their own anyway~” Scam was enjoying this probably more than Jodie knew. It was rare that someone else initiated anything like this with him.

The pink Scam temples his fingers, smirking at Jodie “Truth or Dare Jodie?”

Jodie weighs his options. He was sure all versions of Scam would target him so he was about to get asked the same thing two more times… “truth.”

“I’ll make it a juicy one then~” Scam Pink laughs, absolutely tickled by the fact that he gets to ask something he’d been curious about “Do you miss being human?”

Jodie frowns Scam would be able to tell if he lied, that much he was sure of… So he’d give him the honest truth “It was me but it wasn’t… I lived in that reality for most of Nickolas’ life… every last memory I have of his childhood is back there in that life… so its natural for me to miss it sometimes isn’t it? I suppose I could just go back to earth if I really wanted to… I could look human again… but Nicky…. He’s not who he used to be either…. So it wouldn’t be the same…it wouldn’t be that peaceful easy life we had as a family no matter what I did… I don’t know that I fully want it to be either… Nicky has both Glenn and I and He likes the freedom of going back and forth… so I’ll just keep working, and spend the time with him that I can…So yeah sometimes I miss it… but I don’t want to go back…”

The expression on every version of Scam sitting across from him softens slightly. The pink one speaks up again, suddenly next to him. “It’s normal to mourn parts of your life that are gone~ you went through big changes after all~” He traces a finger over one of Jodie’s horns as if to make his point in the most flirtatious way possible.

“Yeah well it’s not like I miss the time I spent as the battle axe of hatred and that was a big part of my life too…” he doesn’t pull away when the pink version of Scam wraps an arm around him “you’re probably right though…. wait! you lose, you teleported to this couch!”

A chorus of Scam’s laughter drowns out the jazz music for a moment before they settle back down “That wasn’t magic~ I’m just that fast!”

Any victorious feeling that briefly flashed up inside of Jodie just as quickly fizzled out. “You just get more impressive with everything I learn about you…”

The original Scam just smiles, two of his hands clasping over his heart, another hand fanning himself. “Ohh what a flatterer you are! ‘be still my heart’ and all that~” Though he was sure it was unintentional Scam was enjoying the positive attention he was getting. “It’s my turn! Truth or Dare…. Hmm… I choose Jodie~”

He wasn’t surprised, he’d expected to be chosen every turn. What he hadn’t accounted for was losing half his focus to the Pink Scam who was leaning against him. He figured it was Scam trying to comfort him so he just lets it happen. “Truth”

“Hmm~ I can’t help but feel like you’re trying to take the easy way out~” He laughs and leans back on the couch, crossing his legs. It didn’t matter really to him what Jodie chose, he was having fun playing, but truth afforded him some opportunities he wouldn’t otherwise have. “Are you interested in someone~?”

Shit well, at least he hadn’t asked Jodie to name names. “Yes…. There’s someone that’s got me interested”

“Ohhh? Tell me, is it someone we know?~” Both the blue and purple versions of Scam lean closer. The pink version seemed perfectly comfortable where it was, several hands curled around the arm he was leaning on.

Jodie grins at Scam “one question at a time” and there it was, the last time he could choose truth without being in danger of admitting something. He relaxes a bit knowing what was going to come next.

The blue version of Scam folds his arms “truth or dare! I choose… Scam!”

“What?” Jodie’s mind was racing with a million questions, he had thought these were just copies of Scam, but were they thinking independently? Why would he choose himself? What was he playing at?

“Truth~” he swings one of his legs a bit, all four hands folded in his lap as he keeps his eyes firmly locked on Jodie.

The blue Scam smirks as though he’s got one up on himself “has anyone caught your eye?”

“Ohhh yes~ very much so~! I find him incredibly interesting and it doesn’t hurt at all that he’s so ridiculously good looking~ if only he’d get the hint~!” He doesn’t break eye contact with Jodie, staring him down with intent.

He frowns, everything seemed to suggest it was part of the bit directed at him. But…Scam seemed to take games pretty seriously so he didn’t doubt he was actually just confessing to liking someone. He wonders briefly if any of the other Daddies fit that description. There’s a flash of jealousy when he tries to picture it.

“If he’s not picking up on hints why don’t you just be direct?”

Scam shouldn’t be surprised Jodie was still being so stubbornly oblivious, but really that was as close to an actual confession as he’d gone and it’d still failed. “It might surprise you to hear, but I’m not fond of rejection either~”

“Do… you want help?” Jodie knew realistically that he’d probably have a hard time doing it but he honestly wanted to see Scam happy.

“That’s nice of you to offer but the act of seduction is a game in of itself~ it’s not exactly one you play in teams, though if it was, I would love nothing more to be on your team~” Scam’s smile softens even more.

“Maybe that’s exactly why it isn’t working…? You keep thinking of things in terms of games… but relationships don’t work like that… you are supposed to be a team. You can’t build something long lasting if you both aren’t working together… maybe treat it like that and see if it makes a difference?”

Scam goes quiet biting back the want to insist that he’s actually right, sitting back again on the couch a bit rigidly “I think you might be right~ maybe I’m wrong after all… isn’t that concept a novelty?~ It’s your turn again Jodie!”

“Yeah, uh okay Truth or Dare?” He smiles, this was pretty fun after all.

“Who? Me, me or the other me?” Scam visibly relaxes, laughing.

“You” Jodie laughs too.

“Oh of course~ I choose dare! Give me your worst, handsome~ I can handle it!”

He claps his hands excitedly.

“I dare you to…” shit, he was drawing a blank. Everything his brain was supplying was so juvenile. “Oh! This isn’t it right? So show me what you really look like.”

His eyes widen in surprise. “Oh what an interesting dare! Are you absolutely sure that’s what you want~? It’s not going to be very fun for you”

He shrugs, giving him a smug smile “I thought you said you could handle it. I guess you chicken out then ?”

“Oh no, Not at all! I just don’t want you to have any regrets~” he supposes it was a just matter of time before Jodie saw it and any budding interest he could have had in him fades to nothing. He didn’t actually want to do this, but it was a dare and he wasn’t about to lose. “Will it count against the dare forbidding me from magic? I can’t do both~”

“It’s an exception, come on, don’t try to get out of it with excuses” Jodie had been curious since they’d met and now that he’d dared him he was intent on seeing it.

“If you insist~” his skin starts to bubble, his bones cracking and creaking as his limbs and spine lengthen. His skin pulls tight across the changing bones in his face, several more eyes open below and above the three he’d had already, his jaw spitting into a grin that was wider than his elongated face could accommodate.

Jodie stares up at him, dwarfed by Scam in this form. If he was being honest with himself, this didn’t hinder his attraction to Scam in the least.

The other two versions of Scam are pulled into him, disappearing into the skin of his massively long arms. He moves forward, meter long fingers curling around Jodie’s chest, pinning him against the couch with just one hand. He leans in, face inches from Jodie’s, more then a half dozen eyes locked on him .

Jodie’s heart was pounding in his ears. He could feel a blush spreading over his face “shit…”

Scam could feel his heart racing.

He quickly changes back “Oops~ I guess that was probably a bit much for you huh? It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to let loose like that~! But it’s fine~ Really, who doesn’t prefer a more compact and sexy Scam~?” He laughs, uncomfortable with how quiet Jodie had gotten, leaning close, a significantly smaller hand still planted on the center of Jodie’s chest. His heart rate wasn’t slowing. He must have terrified him.

“You… wow….” Jodie smiles, no hint of fear in his voice, there was however an edge of excitement to his voice that was the last thing he expected out of the demon “damn you’re tall…”

Scam makes no effort to move from his position, Jodie’s genuine smile throwing him for a loop. This, he was sure, was not going to be the last time Jodie would absolutely fascinate him. This was enough to tip the scales for him, no more skirting around what he wanted. His voice practically a purr “Truth or Dare Jodie~”

“Dare…” Jodie’s smile widens a bit.

“Kiss me~ if you’re not a cowar—“

Jodie doesn’t wait for him to finish, closing the distance between them, lips crashing against Scam’s in a desperate open mouth kiss. He reaches up, sliding a hand into Scam’s hair and pulling him closer.

Scam moans into the kiss, closing his eyes and losing himself in it. He’d wanted this for a while and it was everything he’d imagined and more… it wasn’t by any means a good kiss… it was sloppy and desperate… but it was the desperation he found so appealing. The way they both held each other tightly pressed against the other, wanting to somehow kiss harder, to kiss more, a crescendo of feelings they’d both been holding back. Any doubts he had about Jodie feeling something back were gone, no one kisses like this and doesn’t mean it.

[glennrheesdaughter]

Imagine being Glenn's daughter and being there when he dies.

“For that, I’m gonna beat the holy hell, out of one of you.”

I shivered as I was kneeling down next to the others. My body trembled with fear, and I made eye contact with Dad. He stared at me, and I could see the pain in his eyes. He was scared, why wouldn’t he be? Why wouldn’t everyone be scared?

“This- this is Lucille and she is awesome.” Negan presented his bat, cloaked with barbed wire, to Rick. Negan pointed lazily at everyone with his finger. “All this, all this just so we can pick out which one of you gets the honor.”

Negan strolled over to Carl. He stood tall over him and he chuckled.”This is your kid, right?” He laughed as his eyes went back and forth between Rick and Carl. “This is definitely your kid! Shit, kid, lighten up. At least cry a little.” Carl just glared at him and Negan shook his head.”Well, kid, if you’re gonna be that miserable then there’s really no point in you staying here, right?” Negan swung the bat up and Rick immediately ran towards Negan, screaming for him to stop. Rick was pinned to the ground by Negan’s men “Just stop this! Stop!” Rick cried.

“Nope, put him back in line. Don’t any of you do that again. I will shut that shit down, no exceptions. First one’s free. It’s an emotional moment, I get it. But, I gotta pick somebody!” Negan swung the bat up and onto his shoulder. “Everybody’s at the table waiting for me to order. But, I simply cannot decide!” He paced back and forth and he suddenly stopped in front of Abraham. “I got an idea.”He said lowly.

I pulled my sleeves down to cover my hands and I made eye contact with Dad once more. He tried to smile at me, letting me know things were going to be okay, but I know he didn’t mean it. As much as he tried to reassure me, I knew that someone was going to die. Still, I smiled back at Dad sadly and then I looked down to the ground.

I felt Uncle Daryl put his hand on my shoulder.

Negan walked up to Abraham and started to bash his head with Lucille. I screamed and covered my eyes.

I uncovered my eyes and saw Uncle Abraham survived the first few blows. I looked at dad as he looked petrified.

Then Abraham told Negan to suck his nuts them got bashed again and then, after ten hits, there was nothing left.

I sobbed. Negan started taunting Rosita. Uncle Daryl scooped me into his arms and then glared. He stood up and tried to attack, but was subdued and he went back to me.

Negan began taunting again as I cried.

Negan shifted his head as I realized it was to Dad. I sobbed.

Two of his men dragged him out. He looked at me and Daryl.

"Daryl, Don't you let her look!" He yelled. Uncle Daryl pulled me closer.

The bat was about to come down." DARYL DON'T YOU LET HER FUCKING LOOK!" Dad yelled.

Uncle Daryl put my head in his chest and covered my ears.

I peeked to see dad's skull broke and his eye hanging out. I sobbed as I buried my face into Daryls chest.

"Sweetie...Find Mommy." He whispered as he got struck again. I looked and saw he was like Abraham..

There was nothing left.

I screamed and cried, as Daryl held me closer. Negan looked at me, as Daryl glared.

"Let's go and bring the child." Uncle Daryl picked me up and we went to a building. We got thrown into the same cell.

Uncle Daryl put me on the bed and wiped my tears." Please, Don't cry. I hate seeing one of My Little Ass-Kickers cry." He whispered as I tried to stop, after 5 minutes I did.

" Let's get you some sleep." He whispered." Can I sleep with you tonight?"

He nodded and we laid down as he put me protectively to his chest." Don't worry Kid. You got me now." He whispered.

[erodasfishtacos]

ST. PAUL

Please like, comment, recommend, reblog, and come talk to me if you enjoyed the piece.

I write for free - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here. (plus my bday is coming up in a two days) 😌

warnings: smut, daddy kink, 18+

—

Harry loves being the center of attention.

It’s really no surprise at this point that he enjoys when tens of thousands of people are watching him perform.

He also secretly loves that people love his wife as well. He swore sometimes he thinks his wife is more popular than him during tour.

YN was didn’t come out from backstage to stand and watch the show right away like she usually did - she was working through some merch issues with Jeff.

Harry noticed that the fans were continuously looking back to where his wife would usually stand for the show.

Between one of the sets, Harry goes about ready some of the posters that fans have brought and he huffs out a faux affronted remark as he reads one out loud.

“I’m only here for your hot wife.”

He jokingly glares at the fan as the crowds laughs, “M’gonna have t’have a talk with security about these posters! Y’hitting on m’wife in front me! She’s not even out here, tough luck mate.”

Then he shimmies away as another song comes on.

A few minutes later, a sign pops up that says, “I want to taste YN’s watermelon sugar.”

Harry gives the person holding the sign a look of disbelief and shakes his head in disapproval at the poster before turning away.

“Should I text him?”

Harry reads from a fan’s board, he holds up his left hand and wriggles his ring finger that is donned in his wedding band, “Y’asking the wrong person, love. I’ve been locked down f’eleven years, don’t know much about the new age of dating!”

He goes on to say, “My only advice is if he’s playing games - don’t do it. Trash, trash, trash. Not for you.”

When YN finally arrives to her usual spot, everyone tries to get a glimpse from where they’re at. It was a thing, everyone wants to not only get a glimpse of Harry Styles’ wife but also her outfit.

There were hundreds of instagram accounts now dedicated to their matching tour outfits.

The short dress she was wearing was made of the same material and color as his shirt *** and she looked stunning as always.

The singer notices all of the attention dart to the side of the arena, where he also spots his beautiful wife smiling with Glenne as they go to their usual spot.

When She ends, Harry walks down the catwalk with a exaggerated pout on his face, giving his wife a pointed look, “I just want to remind everyone, this show’s about me! I’m quite the narcissist so I know m’wife is gorgeous but we’re here f’me!”

The crowd erupts in laughter and playful ‘boos’ as a dimply smile spreads on his face as he adjust his in-ears.

YN bites the inside of her lip, holding back her own giggles at her husband’s boyish antics before she joins along in the boos.

“Alright, alright, no booing me now,” Harry titters like the comedian he is, “Just remindin’ y’who this is all about. Me! But let’s give a round of applause to m’wife who deals with the narcissism on a daily basis!”

The arena does so, thousands of fans capturing their interaction on their phones for people to coo over later.

YN rolls her eyes, laughing at some Glenne says before and then Harry is starting his next song with a few glances over to her until they meet eyes and he blows her a kiss which she returns.

And then a poster pops up in the pit that Harry knows he has to snag - gets a brilliant idea so he asks the fan to pass it forward.

He props his mic back into its stand before turning the poster around and showing it to his wife on the side.

“Show us your tits, respectfully.”

YN flips him off with a giggle before teasing at the collar of her dress which makes Harry’s jaw drop dramatically and he gives her a surprised look before shaking his head. ***

“Don’t y’dare flash the goods! I’m just jokin’ around, this is a family show….” He pauses before prompting the crowd, “Or is it?”

As he performs Lights Up, YN steps forward to the barricade to call over one of the fan who is awestruck as she stumbles over to YN.

“Could I borrow your sign?” YN asks the fan - who was dressed in a sequined suit that looked amazing and she had to compliment her on that too.

“Uh…yeah. He-here,” The girl stutters nervously, passing over the posterboard with shaky hands at meeting YN.

She was sooooo pretty up close, smelled like chanel number five, and smiled warmly enough to make the fan feel comfort.

“Thanks, I’ll give it right back,” YN assures her, stepping back over to Glenne, they giggle together before YN holds it over her head.

“Choke Me Daddy.”

Harry spots it in a mere minute, reading it over and unable to hide the moody, dark expression that flashes across his face before he covers it up by looking elsewhere.

Just the reaction she wanted.

Harry stay away from that side of the stage for a little, YN knows it’s to prevent a very public boner from her behavior.

YN hands it back, agrees to take a few pictures with the girl and her friends before they go back to enjoy the concert.

-

The girl who lent her the sign goes on to make tiktoks about the meeting.

“She was super nice and giggly.”

“She let us take a ton of selfies.”

“When she held it up, Harry like instantly got pissed or turned on or something because he gave her this look and it was intense.”

“Harry was staring at her like the whole concert after she held up that sign.”

“It seemed like YN was purposefully ignoring his signals to make him even more annoyed.”

“Her ring was so pretty.”

“I couldn’t tell who was more attractive, Harry or YN, I think they’re literally the hottest couple alive.”

-

When the concert ends, Harry bolts off stage - waving and blowing kisses to his adoring fans before disappearing into the back.

YN is waiting patiently by the entry, where she usually was, her stomach was tight and bracing for her husband’s reaction.

She wanted to play.

They both knew it.

Hell, the whole arena had known she wanted it.

And to her absolute disappointment, Harry arrives back stage and pulls her into a tight hug. He pulls back gently to kiss her with his large palm cupping her face.

“Hi baby, m’exhuasted. I’ll shower at the hotel,” Harry rasps, peppering a few more soft kisses before intertwining their fingers.

YN has to hide her disappointment that it wasn’t Harry coming back stage, shoving her into his dressing room, and giving it to her hard for the sign she held up.

Nope, during the ride to the hotel, he was cuddly and like a puppy - whining until YN massaged his neck and allowed him to lay his head in her lap.

He doesn’t bring up the sign, just relaxes quietly until they get to the hotel and then just grabs her hand to lead her to their room.

YN tries to settle down the itchy arousal in her belly when Harry goes to shower.

She changes out of her dress into one of Harry’s shirts and goes about folding and organizing both of their suitcases.

After the shower stops, YN hears Harry moves around for a moment until he’s opening the bathroom door.

“Do you want to order room service? I’m star-“

She’s cut off when her husband’s hand reaches down and intertwines into her hair - gentle by firmly pulling her to stand by it and tugging her back into his hard chest.

“Harr-“

“I don’t think so, baby. I think s’daddy, yeah?” Harry hisses against the shell of her ear, “Do y’think I’d forget about y’holding up a sign that said choke me daddy?”

It’s easy for her to slip in a fuzzier, submissive state because she knows her husband will keep her safe and always take care of her.

“You showed that sign fir-“ YN begins to argue back but Harry pulls at her hair to silence her.

“Y’want t’argue or do you want t’be a good girl f’daddy?” Harry asks lowly, his voice threaten and void of any of his normal warmth, “I think ten is a good number, hm? Ten t’your arse?”

“But-“ YN loved to push him, she wanted those ten but she also liked to rile Harry up which was even better when he was adrenaline high from a show.

“Say ‘yes daddy’ or I’ll add five,” He warns, his voice had a delicious rasp from singing and he wraps his hand into her thong and rips it - making her yelp as the elastic snaps against her skin.

YN’s heart is pounding out of her chest, usually she was the one who took Harry by surprise - not the other way around.

Her skin was aching already from the brush burn of the fabric being torn from her sensitive skin, scalp pulsing from the tension on her hair.

“You were so obvious on stage, H. Once I held up that sign, your face gave everything away - that you’re so easy f’me - it’s embarrassing. I’ve been locked down for eleven years,” She imitates his accent in a bratty bite.

Harry snaps, nearly picking her up as he manhandles her over to the large hotel bed and she finds herself on her belly with Harry landing a hard slap to her right cheek.

“Y’think you’re s’fuckin’ cute? Don’t act like it doesn’t get y’soaked seeing all those fans cry f’me and I come home t’you,” He chuckles meanly, “And y’want to call me desperate? Look in the mirror, love.”

YN wriggles a bit but doesn’t have much time before the second and third hit with his rings still on - making it hurt even more.

“Count f’me, sweetheart,” Harry hums, thumbing open her cheeks to lean down and teasing lick her tighter entrance before letting go to land the fourth one.

“F-four,” She chokes out, feeling herself drip onto the sheets and her nipples tighten against the cotton fabric of the shirt she still has on.

“Four what.”

The air in the room is thick, humid as she mumbles against the pillows, “Four daddy.”

“Louder.”

“Four, s’four daddy,” YN moans, tacking on the fifth to her words when he lands on her left cheek and she can tell how sore she’ll be in the morning already.

“Gonna give me fifteen, baby? Or are y’done?” His voice is cautious, checking in to see where she’s at - if they add five more that means she really wants to play. If he stops at five, they both know that means she only wanted to be roughed up a little bit for the night.

“More, please.” YN gasps, shaking her bum in his face before it’s caught with the hardest hit yet and she yelps in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

After they reach fifteen, Harry is flipping her on her back and tugging her shirt off until her breasts spill out and he tugs roughly at a nipple.

“Daddy, please, please,” She whines, her thighs were damp and she was absolutely pulsating for his touch on her.

“I think I deserve an apology f’your behavior tonight,” He whispers against her puffy lips, his cock slipping against her mound lazily, “Desperate f’me even in front of tens of thousands of people. It’s quite cute, darling.”

“Fuck me, fuck me,” YN presses her lips to his eagerly, moaning when he slips between her folds and his tip bumps against her clit.

“Y’have no fuckin’ manners, pet. I think I’ve spoiled y’too much,” Harry admonishes with faux disappoint, pulling back until their centers aren’t touching and landing a smack to her mound.

Then he’s reaching down to thumb at her bud with a relentless pleasure but as soon as she starts to lift her hips into the feeling - he pulls away and tucks two fingers up inside her - repeats that quite a few times.

She felt like she was on fire, she needed him so badly that she wasn’t able to take much more of the teasing.

They usually played for longer, hours sometimes but on tour - it was hard to, both of them bone-tired and knowing they have to get up early and do it again tomorrow.

Harry knows his wife like the back of his hand, knows when she needs more and when she’s hit her limit for the night.

When he sees hot, fat tears spilling from the corner of her eyes, lips full and swollen, and she’s mewling, “Daddy.”

He knows she’s nearly at her limit, he slips inside her with no resistance and has to push for a moment because it feels that euphoric.

“Baby, fuck. Always feel s’fuckin’ good. This body was made f’me, yeah? S’addicitng, s’warm and tight,” Harry praises his wife, kissing her before tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth.

“S’for you, all of it. Ha-Daddy, I’m so close already, do it - c’mon,” She begs, legs wrapping around his narrow waist and pressing her heels into his bum.

They both know what she wants but he wants to hear her say it.

“C’mon, tell me. Say it and I’ll give it t’you,” He rumbles as he thrusts in with loud, smacking noises echoing through the room.

She blinks up at him with twinkling doe eyes, a small smirk on the side of her lips, as she says in a kittenish voice, “Choke me, daddy.”

And like that, his hand is collaring her throat and lightly pressing down until her breathe catches in her throat.

“Come f’me, m’desperate lil’ thing. All those people with those nasty signs and all I can think about it y’perfect cunt,” He murmurs in her ears, pressing just a bit more and then just like clockwork - she tenses and begins to come and he lightens his grip and releases when he follows soon after her.

-

👀👀👀👀👀

[shinysnek]

I BELIEVE IT ALL IS COMING TO AN END OH WELL I GUESS WE’RE GONNA PRETEND!

MY GOD... I can’t believe that this funny dad podcast is over... it has brought me so much joy since my friend recommended it to me, and I’m so grateful to Anthony and the Players for creating such a wonderful stoy and characters! I’m so proud of the way they’ve grown, and so happy they managed to get out alright in the end!

Right? (extra under readmore below IDs

[id: two images of the four PCs from dungeons and daddies. from left to right: Glenn, Darryl, Henry, and Ron. The first image depicts the dads at the start of their journey, standing in front of the Honda Odyssey. Glenn is squinting, holding his hand above his eyes and staring into the distance. He’s amuscular man with tan skin, dark brown eyes, long dark hair, and facial hair on his chin. He’s wearing a black and red leather jacket. Darryl is confused looking at a map over his shades. He’s a large man with tan skin, and brown hair/beard. He’s wearing a beige tee and an orange ball cap. Henry is staring anxiously over Darryl’s shoulder at his map. He’s a blond, skinny man with pale skin, dark green eyes and patchy facial hair. He’s wearing glasses, a jean jacket, and green flannel. Ron is looking concernedly at his phone, scratching his thinning hair. He’s a short man with light brown hair/mustache, and pale blue eyes. He’s wearing a pale blue button up and a striped blue tie. The background is a strange landscape, pink bushes under a golden sky. The glowing outlines of three purple hands reach towards the dads

The second image has the dads in the same order, now smiling and hugging. Glenn’s reaching across Darryl to grab Henry’s hand. is now a christmas demon with six red horns, a wreath around his head, holly shaped wings, and a long tail. The arm reaching to Henry is buff, red, and scaly. He’s older, with a beard and longer silver-streaked hair. His right eye is red, and his left has a red sclera and a white four-pointed star pupil. Darryl has shaved his beard, having a 5 o’clock shadow and longer hair, silver around the temples. He has one arm around Glenn’s shoulder and one on Ron’s head. Henry is leaning against Darryl’s shoulder, looking up at him. His hair is longer and he’s grown out a beard. His elven heritage has turned his eyes bright green and his ears pointy. His hair has leaves and branches in it, with two rounded leaves looking like bear ears. Ron is holding onto Henry’s arm. His mustache is a little larger and he’s greyed around the temples. All the dads are covered in scars, dirt, and blood. They’re bruised and battered but nonetheless alive. A halo of purple light shines behind each of their heads. /end id]

gone gone, baby it’s all gone...

[id. The four dads in the same order, only this time they’re drawn in sketchy white outlines on a dark background. They’re gathered around Henry, faces full of fear. Henry is clutching his mouth and the wound on his chest, staring with wide black eyes as dark blood drips through his fingers. Glenn, Darryl and Ron are all holding onto him, shocked and terrified. Tentacles surround them, their suckers replaced with eyes that stare at the dads. The world is filled with static. /end id]

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

Love On Tour - Harry Styles Mini Series (Part 8)

(Part 7)

Day Off.

“Oh my god, I am fine,” you laughed, pushing Harry’s face away from yours.

He had been next to you all night since your little scare at the show the previous night and as soon as you woke up, he was right there, staring at you.

“Just checking,” he said, kissing your forehead. “I ordered in breakfast and I’ve found some movies to watch-”

You sighed, “We don’t have to stay in all day. I know you wanted to go sightseeing before we left.”

“Well, that was before my girlfriend passed out at my show,” he said.

“I didn’t pass out… technically,” you responded. “And I’m fine.”

Harry shook his head, “Nope, we’re staying in. Maybe we can head out to dinner later, but I’ll feel better about you traveling if we take it easy today.”

You rolled your eyes, “So bossy.”

He smirked, “You like it.”

“Whatever,” you laughed, getting up from the bed.

You noticed you felt a little dizzy, so you sat up for a bit before standing up. You walked into the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. You sighed, gripping the sink, and taking deep breaths as the dizziness passed. There was definitely something going on, but you weren’t ready to face it yet. You just needed to wait a few more days. A few more days and if you didn’t get your period or you didn’t feel any better you’d take a test.

You walked back into the room where Harry had laid out the food onto the table. You both sat down and started eating breakfast quietly. You felt a churn in your stomach, but you ignored it.

“Will you tell me what really happened last night?” He asked.

You look up at him, “What do you mean? I already told you.”

He shook his head, “No, you told me half of what happened.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair, “I don’t know. I was fine and then all of a sudden, I felt hot and couldn’t breathe. Pretty sure it was an anxiety or panic attack. I’ve had them before, but it was worse last night. Glenne followed me to the bathroom and I guess my body just gave out, so I went to the dressing room. She got the EMS to check on me and they said I was dehydrated and overheated so they gave me an IV. Like I said, there’s just a lot going on that my body isn’t used to. I’ll be fine.”

Harry sighed, “Why didn’t you tell me? I knew you were stressing over being away, but I don’t want it to be to the point it’s making yourself sick.”

“I’m sure it will be okay in a few days,” you said. “Plus, the IV did seem to help. I just need to make sure I’m drinking more water and eating.”

“I need you to be okay,” he whispered, putting his hand over yours.

You sighed, getting up from your chair and sitting down in his lap, “I am okay and if anyone should be worried, it’s me. I mean you’re the one who is on stage for like two hours and traveling and everything.”

“I got this,” he smirked. “I’m good.”

“Same here,” you smirked.

He laughed pressing his lips against yours.

**

Later that day, you and Harry spent time watching movies and napping. Honestly, it was just what you needed. It took your mind off the fact you were late and your anxiety was lowered by the distraction. However, it was eating at you that you hadn’t told Harry yet. Part of you knew you should tell him, but the other part didn’t want to bring it up until it absolutely had to be brought up. Plus, actually saying the words out loud would make it more real and you were not ready for that.

Not yet.

Harry’s gaze was on the tv while you laid your head on his chest. His fingers grazed along your back and every so often he’d plant a kiss on your head.

“Can I ask you something?” you whispered.

“Always, love,” he smiled.

“What do you see in our future?” You asked.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

You sit up to turn and look at him, “Like… Do you see me in your future? See us? You know, like together.”

He moved hair away from your face, “Of course. I don’t want a future that doesn’t involve you. Why?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I just wondered if you ever thought about getting married or having a family with me?”

“Yeah, I have,” he nodded. “I love you, why wouldn’t I want that with you?”

You smiled.

“What’s bringing this on?” He asked. “Do you want to get married?”

“Well, I mean, not like right now,” you laughed. “But I just wondered if maybe we should start thinking about the next step in our relationship. We’ve been together for a while. We live together. I’m not saying we have to rush into marriage or anything, but it should be something we talk about, you know we’re on the same page.”

“I get that,” he nodded. “And like I said, I do want to get married and have a family with you one day, but with getting back to touring and releasing a new album next year, plus with filming… it just would be a lot, you know?”

You weren’t sure why, but hearing him say that made your heart drop a little.

“No, I get it,” you said. “We’re both busy and adding all that other stuff would be a lot, but it’s just something I thought about.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, “Are you sure? I don’t want you to think it’s not because I don’t want to do any of that with you. You’re the only one I want to be my wife and the mother of my kids, one day. Just not in the near future.”

You forced a laugh, “I don’t think that. Again, I was just asking because we hadn’t really talked about it before.”

“True,” he nodded. “And it’s probably best if we're on the same page.”

“Exactly,” you replied.

He laughed, kissing your forehead. You forced a smile before excusing yourself to head to the bathroom again. You closed the door and slid down to the floor. You swallowed back the sobs threatening to spill from your throat. You understood where Harry was at, hell you even agreed with him. But it didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. Anxiety filled up inside of you again. The nervousness of the unknown. The guilt from keeping it from Harry. The worry about how he would react, how you would even react. It was all too much for you. So, you sat there on the bathroom floor, alone, letting the tears stream down your face.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 8714 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: the Greene farm Warnings: Language, violence, gore, blood, severe injuries, fear, anxiety, death of a character A/N: This is the FINAL part of a miniseries! You can find the other chapters on the Masterlist! Summary: Y/N and Shane go missing.

Your name: submit What is this?

Two weeks later

“I can actually do it myself,” you insisted, feeling a blush in your cheeks as Daryl pulled your hand over onto his lap and bent over it, luckily oblivious to the pink glow now filling your cheeks.

He huffed at you. “I’m sure ya can,” he drawled, “but it’s definitely easier for someone with two hands, don’t ya think?”

You watched as he methodically and carefully snipped the stitches in your hand and pulled the sutures away, apologizing if they tugged at all. A lot had happened in the last two weeks. Pretty much everyone had come around to the fact that Shane had hurt himself in an attempt to get the group to abandon you. There had been a massive fight between him and Rick and since then Shane had been confined to his tent while he healed. When Hershel found out what had happened, he told Rick that Shane couldn’t stay, but Rick had already decided that he had go. His best friend seemed to be growing more bitter and more unstable by the day.

But Shane was still around temporarily, and because of that Daryl had refused to leave you to sleep unguarded at night. You’d argued that it would be fine and that you didn’t really think Shane would try to pull anything else, but the archer was insistent. Eventually, you caved. Daryl had hauled your cot and bedding to his tent and set them up along the opposite wall from his, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck at the strange nervousness and yet gratitude he felt knowing you’d be so close.

You both fell into an easy routine together. Your physical closeness may have been borne out of necessity but the other growing closeness developed organically. Spending time with Daryl was easy. He didn’t mind when you were quiet for hours on end, lost in your own head as you aimlessly tossed twigs into the fire. He didn’t mind when you wanted to talk about something specific or nothing at all, and you felt the same way about him. The silences didn’t bother you with Daryl and every time he did open his mouth it was either to make you laugh or to say something you were genuinely interested in hearing. He was constantly checking on you over the smallest things. If you shivered in the evening as you spent time around the fire, he’d insist that you moved closer to the flames or he’d go get a blanket from his tent and toss it down on your lap without a word before he took his place again. He’d make sure you were eating and would refill your canteen whenever he thought about it. You did what you could to return the favors but he usually seemed to beat you to it.

“I guess with these out I can finally start hunting again,” you said. “And going out and gathering stuff.”

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed, his eyes narrowed as he focused on removing the very last stitch. “There.” He straightened up and looked at the slightly raised pink scar down the center of your palm. He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but he ran a finger lightly down the length of it.

You startled at the unfamiliar sensation, a little strange due to the altered sensation along the length of the scar, but even more so because of the way your heart jumped at the touch of Daryl’s fingers so light on your palm. You involuntarily pulled you hand back and your eyes shot up to meet his.

He gave you a sheepish look. “Sorry. Did that hurt?” He regretted it the moment he’d done it, worried about your reaction.

You shook your head. “No, it just—”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing,” you finished quietly, chewing on your bottom lip a little anxiously. He quirked an eyebrow at you but simply stood up.

“Alright. Well, couple more days and that asshole will be outta here,” he growled, glancing over in the direction of Shane’s tent. He wasn’t yet allowing himself to acknowledge that he was worried things would go back to the way they were before once Shane was gone. That is, you’d retreat back to your space and back to yourself. He was really liking his time with you and he didn’t want it to end. The archer shook his head and glanced back at you. Your eyes were now on Shane’s tent, too but your expression was fretful. “S’matter?” he prompted you.

You sighed. “I just feel like it’s my fault he has to leave…”

“Nah. Nah, it ain’t. Y/N, if it weren’t you it’d be somethin’ else. He’s been spiralin’ down since Rick showed up alive and took his family back. It ain’t got nothin’ to do with ya, not really.”

You still looked unsure but the worry lines in your forehead eased a little. “Yeah. I suppose so.”

“Listen, I told Carol I’d go help her with that new tent. Ya gonna be alright over here?” he asked.

You nodded. “Mhm. I’ll be right here. Andrea gave me a new book.” You did glance a little longingly over your shoulder at the far tree line and Daryl was always amazed that even after the traumatic incident in those very same woods that you still wanted to be out there almost every minute of the day.

“Hey,” he said, calling your attention back to him. “We’ll go out and hunt tomorrow, alright?”

You nodded. “Tomorrow.” You watched his broad shoulders fade toward the main camp.

Carol was waiting when Daryl arrived. Her old tent had started to leak and Daryl had promised to help her get the new one they’d found set up. She stood up as he strode over, already flustered by the number of pins and ropes and metal poles. “If I’d known I’d be living out of a tent I definitely would have stuck with the Girl Scouts when I was a kid,” she said, giving Daryl a helpless look.

He let out a gruff laugh. “Ya got that the wrong way around,” he said, pointing to the pole she’d already slipped through the tent. She stared at it and sighed. “S’alright. That’s why I’m here right?” he said. “Gimme that,” he said, grabbing the bundle of poles in her hands and setting to work. In no time they had the tent upright and were going about staking it down. Carol handed Daryl another stake and he pounded it into the ground securing down the corner.

“So… what’s going on with you and Y/N exactly?” she asked him.

The archer froze and shot a look at her before returning his eyes to what he was doing, grateful for a task to focus on even as he felt his ears growing red. “What’d ya mean?”

“Well,” Carol continued, “you’re sharing a tent,” she said with a smile.

Daryl scoffed. “So? I shared a tent with T-dog once. Ya gonna ask me if we held hands?”

Carol laughed and smirked at him. “Well, did you?” Daryl rolled his eyes at her and she laughed harder.

“We’re sharin’ a tent cuz there’s a psycho that probably is blamin’ all his problems on her. And I don’t want shit to go sideways.”

“So, that’s it? You’re just sharing a tent for purely practical reasons,” Carol said. Daryl could hear the skepticism in her voice and he straightened up after tying off the knot to the stake.

“The hell are ya on about?” Daryl growled. But even as he tried to act gruff and brush her off, he felt that heat growing in his chest that was becoming familiar when he thought of you.

“You two just seem to get along,” Carol said. “That’s all.”

“Mmm,” Daryl hummed, moving to the next corner of the tent. Something about that response made Carol laugh again.

“You’re so sensitive,” she murmured, eliciting an eyeroll from him. “Daryl, I just like to see you happy. And lately, since you’ve been spending so much time with Y/N, you’ve been happy,” she pointed out.

He couldn’t deny that. She was right. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, his hands still on the last length of cord before he tied it off and pounded in the stake. He stood up and stepped back, taking in the structure. “Alright. All done.”

“Thanks,” she said gratefully, surveying it. She gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze and smiled. “Do me a favor?”

“Hmm?” he hummed, chewing on the side of his thumbnail, glancing up at her.

“If you really like her,” she paused and shrugged, “tell her. Life is short these days.” She knew that as well as anyone. A husband, abusive asshole or not, and a precious little girl were gone to this world.

Daryl only ducked his head and lazily twirled a piece of grass between his fingers. “I’ll see ya,” he murmured, turning and heading back toward his tent. He was expecting you to be sitting beside the fire where you’d been when he left, but that spot was empty. He approached the tent and stopped outside the door. “Y/N? Ya in there?” When there was no answer, he unzipped it and peeked inside. No sign of you. The book that had been in your hand was on the tent floor and he bent and picked it up, setting it on the upturned box that was serving as a nightstand next to your cot. That’s when he realized your knife was there. He’d been thinking maybe you had to go use the bathroom, but you never left camp without your knife at your hip, whether it was for two minutes or two hours. And it wasn’t like you to leave a book on the ground. You treated the damn things like they were some sacred tomes. He felt panic start to grow in his chest and left the tent in a hurry, his blue eyes scanning the area where everyone else was set up and the tree line. He didn’t see you anywhere.

Daryl grabbed his crossbow and took off running toward the main camp. He found Lori and Carol preparing some food for dinner and stopped beside them. “Hey—have ya’ll seen Y/N anywhere? She come through here at all?” He directed the question at Lori since Carol had been busy with him getting the tent set up.

She stood up and dusted her hands off on her jeans, shaking her head. Her eyes went a little wide with worry as she registered the deep concern on Daryl’s face. “No, I—I haven’t seen her. You can’t find her?”

Daryl didn’t even stay to answer. He just tore off in the direction of the farmhouse and bounded up onto the front porch. Glenn and Maggie both stood up at the expression on his face. “Ya’ll see Y/N? Did she come up here?”

Maggie shook her head. “No,” Glenn answered, immediately worried. “What’s going on?”

Daryl swore under his breath and paced a restless circle, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “I—I was gone for maybe an hour helpin’ Carol and now I can’t find her anywhere. She wouldn’ta gone off without her knife or nothin’,” he said. His jaw clenched and Glenn watched the muscle twitch. Daryl’s eyes quickly landed on the tent Shane was confined to and he took off at a full sprint toward it. Glenn was on his heels now.

“Daryl! Daryl, take it easy!” Glenn yelled after him. It drew the attention of the rest of the group and soon Rick and Andrea were standing beside Glenn as Daryl ripped back the entrance to Shane’s tent.

Daryl’s stomach twisted. Shane’s tent was empty. He kicked out at a milk crate that had some of Shane’s things on it and it toppled over. “Shane’s gone and Y/N is missin’!” he roared at Rick.

Rick gulped. A hard pit formed in his stomach. “Daryl—Daryl, just calm down,” Rick said.

That had the opposite effect. “Calm down? Calm down?!” he roared. “This ain’t no coincidence! I told ya he didn’t deserve to stay here to heal up, and now look what’s happened!”

“We’ll find them! We’ll find them. We will. Just—”

“Nah. I’m gonna track that fuckin’ prick and if he’s laid so much as a finger on her, he’s a dead man.” Daryl took off without another word, racing back to the last place he’d seen you, his eyes scanning the ground the whole way, hoping for a track, a trail, something.

“Dale, get the guns,” Rick said. “Lori, you and Carol take Carl up to the house and see if you can wait inside with Hershel and the girls.” Lori nodded and gave Carol’s arm a gentle squeeze. Rick rubbed a hand over the stubble on his face.

Andrea was stunned. “What do we do?”

Rick shut his eyes for a moment and pulled in a breath. “We get our guns and we look. We hope Daryl can pick up a trail and we hope we aren’t too late.”

You had been sitting contentedly by the fire reading when you decided you wanted some tea. You knew there were still some dried spicebush leaves in your pack from your last foraging trip and you went in to get them. You were crouched beside your pack, digging in the pocket when you heard a metallic sound that was easily identifiable. It was the slide of a pistol being drawn back and released, a bullet moving into the chamber. You froze with your hands in your pack and slowly turned. You could see Shane outside the window netting and his gun was aimed right at you.

“Get up. Slowly. Leave all your shit.”

You gulped and did so, replacing your pack against the wall and abandoning your book on the floor.

“Come over here. Zip the tent up and don’t even think about trying anything because I will kill you right here,” Shane growled, and you believed him. “Let’s go. Now.”

Again, you complied. You glanced desperately toward the main camp, hoping with every part of you that Daryl would be headed back or somehow happen to look over and see what was happening, but you knew you didn’t have any options except to comply. Comply and hope for an opening to save yourself.

Shane’s gun was still trained on you as you stepped around the outside of the tent. He was gritting his teeth in anger as you stared back at him. You were determined to remain calm and in control.

He nudged the barrel of his gun in the direction of the tree line. “Move. Let’s go.”

You felt sick, knowing that once you went into those trees the chance that you would ever come back out was low. But what choice did you have? He had a fucking gun on you and you had nothing.

You made your way toward the woods. Shane pressed the muzzle into your back. “Faster. And don’t even think about making a fucking sound. I will shoot you right here. I don’t even care. At least then I wouldn’t have to worry about you going all psycho-killer. Wouldn’t have to worry about Lori anymore. Or Carl.”

You bit your tongue to stop a retort.

Soon, you were under the dark canopy of trees, cloaked in shade and moving further in with Shane’s gun at your back. He was nervous, on edge, and understandably so, because you knew if Daryl caught him… he’d be dead in an instant. You decided your best course of action was to try to reason with him. You really did believe that he was just fucked up from being in love with a woman he couldn’t have. This was all misplaced blame and aggression. He really wanted to fuck Rick up, but that loyal part of him, that police partner, wouldn’t let him. Some part of him couldn’t bear to do that to Carl and Lori, even while another part of him was desperate to. You were an easy target, the next best thing to blame for his failed attempts to get back into the place he wanted to be, to regain some control, to prove he knew best and was still The Protector. If he had been able to show everyone that you were really a threat and that he and not Rick had taken care of it, he really thought maybe that would win Lori over. But that had all backfired. Now you were just easy to blame for all his problems.

“Shane, I know this isn’t really what you want,” you said quietly.

“Shut the fuck up. You don’t know a goddamn thing about me,” he growled back, nudging you sharply with the muzzle of his gun again.

“I don’t want you to have to leave either. I know it isn’t fair,” you continued. “You took care of everyone for a while before Rick showed up.”

“I said shut up!” he spat again through clenched teeth. “Ya know what? Sit the fuck down. Right there, against that tree.” He shoved you hard and you stumbled, barely catching yourself with your hands on the large oak before your face would have collided with it.

You obeyed and sat with your back against the tree, gulping at the dryness in your throat, and turning to stare directly at the gun pointed in your face.

Something about how calm you were being, how steady, was completely freaking Shane the fuck out. He wanted you to snap. He wanted to be able to say that he was right about you and you were a danger to everyone in camp, like you were some unpredictable monster. But you just sat there looking up at him, now completely silent, your eyes flickering between the muzzle of his gun and his face. Shane swore under his breath and paced back in forth in front of you. Your eyes followed his movements. You bided your time, trying to come up with something that would defuse this whole situation.

“How is this going to fix anything?” you asked him. “This is only going to make everything worse.”

He didn’t stop pacing and occasionally shooting a look at you that made your blood run cold. You were starting to think that maybe there was no reasoning with him…

“You can just let me go. I’ll just tell everyone I needed to get out of camp for a bit. You can wander back in like nothing happened,” you said.

He pointed the gun at you again and his lip curled. “There’s no going back from this. No going back from everything that’s already happened. And I know there is something wrong with you. I know it. If I’m not going to be here to keep an eye on you, I need to end this now so you can’t hurt anyone. Because I know you will snap eventually. I saw what you did to those men.” Shane got right into your face, poking you in the shoulder with the muzzle of his gun.

“I was defending myself,” you said quietly, feeling guilty and horrified at yourself even as you tried to justify it to Shane.

“So you say,” he growled, his pistol now aimed at your forehead.

“If I was going to snap like you’re saying, wouldn’t now be a good time?” you said quietly. “Obviously you’re a threat to me. But I’ve done everything you’ve asked.”

He scoffed and straightened up again, resuming his pacing. “What—what the hell happened to you, huh? What fucked up thing twisted you to the point where you could do what you did to those men? Do you even remember it? Do you even know how many times you stabbed them?” he pressed. He was trying to agitate you, but it didn’t work.

Your stomach was churning with the foggy memory of being covered in their blood, of seeing their corpses on the ground, but you only stared back at Shane. No way in hell you were divulging what you’d been through to Shane, gunpoint or not.

He ran his tongue over his teeth and you watched as the muscle in his jaw clenched. He charged toward you again. “You know what? I’m done with this,” he growled. He pressed the gun to your forehead, aiming at a downward angle. The metal bit into your skin. You stared up at him briefly, eyes wide but surprisingly calm, and Shane watched in some disbelief as you finally just shut them and seemed to resign yourself to the fact that you were about to die.

That hesitation was all you needed.

You shoved Shane’s arm away and the gun with it and snatched the knife at his hip, ripping it free from its sheath and slashing at him, leaving a good gash on his arm. But a knife wouldn’t be any match for Shane with a gun. He was a firearm instructor and you knew his aim was deadly accurate, so before he could entirely recover from his surprise you ran at him full force and the two of fell to the ground hard. The pistol flew from his hands and landed in the leaf little a few feet away. You began to crawl desperately toward it, trying to put distance between you and Shane as quickly as possible, but you let out a yell as you felt him grab hold of you and pull you back.

The next thing you knew he was over you, trying his hardest to get the knife from your hand. You were slashing at him desperately, catching him on the forearms as you struggled beneath him. You caught him with a particularly strong slash but the next moment he had your hands pinned in his and he wrenched the knife from you. The rush of blood was loud in your ears and now you were on the defensive. You shielded yourself with your arms as best you could and continued to struggle beneath him, but his weight was too much.

Shane suddenly managed to push your arms out of the way and you saw the knife coming toward you as if in slow motion. It was heading straight for the center of your chest. You thrust your left arm out and felt the blade pierce it deeply before ripping clean and lodging in your left shoulder. You let out a scream of pain, but as Shane was now leaning over you, you managed to get your knee up underneath him and thrust it as hard as you could into his groin.

He let out an agonized yell and rolled off you, abandoning the knife that was still lodged deeply in your shoulder. You gritted your teeth and were vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face and the fact that you were trembling. But there was no time to stop. You couldn’t stop if you wanted to live. You clutched at the knife in your shoulder, staring briefly with shock at how deeply it was embedded, but didn’t dare to pull it out. Rolling over and holding yourself up on your lacerated forearms, you fixed your eyes on the gun and made a desperate lunge for it. You felt hands on your legs again, dragging you back.

Back toward the edge of the tree line, Daryl had picked up the trail easily and was frantically tracking. Rick and the others were on his heels, glancing around nervously, straining their eyes in the veiled darkness beneath the canopy and their ears in the closeness of the trees. But it wasn’t long that they had to trail behind the archer because soon a strained yell made it to their ears. Daryl felt his blood run cold.

He paused hardly for a moment before he tore off through the trees in the direction he’d heard your voice echo from. “Y/N!” He wanted you to know he was on his way. He needed you to just hang on. He pushed himself to run through the nausea that had risen when that sound, your pained voice, had met his ears. He tore through the foliage, the sound of pounding boots on the soil loud behind him as the others followed.

“Daryl! Daryl, slow down! We can’t just—” Rick paused as he had to bust through some shrubs. “We can’t just barrel in there!” But it was as if the archer hadn’t heard anything. He just continued running, trying to listen over his own gasping breath and pounding pulse but simultaneously afraid of what he would hear.

Crack.

The unmistakable sound of a gunshot.

Daryl skidded to a stop, frozen. His face blanched, almost ashen as Rick caught up and glanced over at him. Sweat was pouring down from their foreheads and running down their necks, soaking the thin cotton of their shirts. A small strangled noise escaped Daryl’s lips as he searched the ground frantically again for the trail, needing to know he was running in the right direction. He spotted it. Direction confirmed, he took off at an even madder pace than before. “Y/N!” There was no answer.

But he couldn’t allow himself to think the worst. He couldn’t. That couldn’t happen to you. After everything you’d already been through… how could he have let this happen? Why had he turned his back on you for even a minute with that prick still around? He felt shaky and weak even as he ran.

The group had just pushed through another thick swath of understory when Daryl saw a bundle ahead, lying motionless on the ground. His breath caught in his throat and his boots rooted into the soil for a moment. But he pushed himself to move forward again.

Behind him he was vaguely aware of a gasp from Andrea and some murmur from Glenn.

As he moved closer, he realized there was a second shape ahead and as his eyes refocused, he saw that it was you. You were leaned up against a big oak tree, propped up against the rough bark, your head lolled toward your chest. Some pained gasp or muted scream, catching mostly in his throat, left his lips before he tore off toward you again. As he fell to his knees beside you, he took in the soaked crimson of your shirt. Your arms were cut up and absolutely covered in blood. Then Daryl’s eyes landed on the hilt of the knife still embedded in your left shoulder. His hands shook as he hesitated before lifting your chin, terrified that your skin would be cold and lifeless. You were bruised and battered, bleeding from a swollen and split lip and a gash near your hairline, but there was some semblance of warmth still in your skin, though you were pale. More miraculously yet, when he gently lifted your chin, you started to stir and Daryl watched in desperation as you struggled to open your eyes, eventually succeeding.

“Hey, hey. S’alright. I’ve got ya. I’ve got ya…” He could hear his own voice shake as he spoke.

You gulped, wanting to clear the taste of iron from your mouth. “I had to,” you managed to croak out. “I had to.”

Daryl knew you were referring to Shane’s lifeless body behind him on the ground. “S’ok. It don’t matter. Don’t talk now, alright? Just rest. I’ve got ya.”

Daryl felt someone behind him and turned to see Glenn just behind him. His face was pale as he took in your condition. “Her shoulder... Oh my God,” Glenn gasped.

“She’s gonna be fine,” Daryl said forcefully. He carefully slid his arm behind your back and another underneath your knees. You were fighting to stay awake. “Daryl…” you murmured. You felt so small in his arms as he lifted you. Daryl was vaguely aware of your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, gripping it hard before you fell unconscious again, going limp in his arms. He turned and started heading back to the farm, moving as quickly as he dared with you in his arms, conscious of the knife still wedged cruelly into you. The sight of it protruding from you made him sick with rage. Rick was kneeling beside Shane, his face downturned, as Daryl breezed past. Andrea stood just behind him with a hand pressed over her mouth, watching as Daryl carried your bloodied body past her.

As Daryl’s broad shoulders disappeared, Glenn bent and retrieved the pistol lying on the leaf litter among streaks of your blood. It felt like a lead weight in his palm.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl sat slumped in a chair beside your prone form laid out on the bed, covered over in the blankets. He was leaned over forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped so tightly that his knuckles shone white.

After days of agonizing waiting, there was a soft noise from you and his eyes shot up urgently to see you stirring a little on the pillow. He rocketed to his feet so fast that the chair he’d been in clattered backward loudly to the floor. “Doc!” he yelled out. Hershel rushed in a moment later.

You dragged your eyelids open with a great amount of effort and the first thing you saw were Daryl’s piercing blue eyes looking down at you with immense concern. You moistened your lips with your tongue and cleared your throat, which felt dry and scratchy, preparing to speak. He watched as your expression melted into a veil of confusion. “I’m not… not dead?”

Daryl felt a painful pang in his chest as he watched you spinning with disbelief.

Hershel leaned over you with a kindly and somewhat sad expression on his face. “You most definitely are not. Though you surprised all of us after what you went through,” he said putting a gentle hand on your uninjured shoulder.

Your eyes turned back to Daryl’s. “Shane—” His name seemed to strangle and catch in your throat. “I—”

“I know. Ya had to. S’alright,” Daryl drawled, his brow furrowing low over his eyes.

You mouthed wordlessly for a moment, your eyes brimming with tears. “Is he—did he—?”

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod, his expression full of concern. “He’s gone.”

You felt that you already knew the answer but it still made your stomach churn. You laid more heavily into the pillow and shut your eyes, a pained expression crossing your face. When your eyes finally fluttered open again they were still a little glassy. Daryl wondered at this display of remorse, of regret you had for a man who had clearly taken you into the woods to kill you.

But what Daryl saw next was you clearly struggling against some flashback. You squeezed your eyes shut and your breathing quickened. Beads of sweat broke out on your hairline and your face tensed.

Daryl’s hand shot out to gently grab yours before he even knew what he was doing. “Hey.” He gave it a gentle squeeze. “Y/N. S’alright. You’re safe,” he drawled.

Your eyes opened and you glanced down at your hand in his. Daryl withdrew, suddenly self-conscious. You nodded and seemed to come back to the present.

You reached across yourself to grip your left shoulder, a wave of pain running through you and a grimace tightening your features. You felt thick gauze beneath your fingers. As you moved you became aware that you had many little rows of stitches on your arms and a few gashes wrapped up in bandages as well. Even your hands were cut up from your attempts to defend yourself. You extended your arm in front of yourself and took in the damage done by Shane’s knife.

“I don’t understand,” you said softly. “I thought for sure I was going to die out there.” The way you said it was so matter-of-fact and Daryl felt a rush of anger overwhelm him for a moment. Shane was lucky he was dead when Daryl had gotten there… He’d gotten off easy with a single round to the chest.

Hershel nodded. “You have a lot of strength in you. Rest. Everything is going to be just fine. You’re going to heal up and be back to normal before you know it, though that shoulder may need a little extra TLC.” The doctor took his leave and your eyes found Daryl’s again. He read worry on your face.

“What is it?” he drawled.

You gulped. “I’ll leave as soon as I’m healed up,” you said, now avoiding his eyes.

Daryl’s brow furrowed more deeply. “Why the hell would ya do that?”

His tone was forceful again and drew your eyes back to his. “The others—after what happened, I can’t imagine they want me around anymore.”

Daryl sighed heavily and righted his chair again, sinking down in it close at your bedside. “For once yer wrong about somethin’,” he said. “Nobody wants ya to leave. Ya didn’t do anything more than defend yourself, just like ya did with those men before. Anyone can glance at ya for one second and see that.”

You shifted in bed, trying to make your injured shoulder more comfortable, laying your other hand over it absently, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek. You still looked unsure.

“Y/N, when we found ya you had a damn knife sticking out of your shoulder.” He paused and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck a little anxiously. “I—” his voice seemed to catch in his throat. “I thought we lost ya.”

You peered at him curiously.

He leaned forward. “Listen to me, if anybody even so much as looks at ya like ya shouldn’t be here, they’ll have to deal with me.”

Daryl watched, a little anxiously, as your lips parted softly. “I’m not sure I deserve that from you,” you finally managed quietly. “You’ve already done enough. Daryl, I suspect you saved my life.” You gulped and stared down toward the edge of the blankets. “In more ways than one…”

The archer averted his eyes down toward his boots and chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, nervous and wavering between his insecurity and need to reassure you, not allowing himself to really think on what you’d just said. “Hey. Yer a part of this group, even if ya ain’t always felt like it.”

You studied him for a long moment before you spoke again. “So are you,” you said perceptively. His blue eyes shot up to meet yours and you gave him a weak smile. “Can you do me a favor?”

He nudged his nose up in a nod. “’Course.”

“Can—can you help me take a walk outside? I need some air,” you said quietly.

“Are ya sure yer up for that? Ya had surgery on that shoulder. Ya lost a lot of blood. Ya just woke up after bein’ out of it for three days. I don’t think it’s—” Concern creased his forehead.

You nodded. “I’m sure. You won’t let anything bad happen to me. I’ve at least learned that by now.” You felt a bloom of warmth in your chest as you spoke those words, coupled with the realization of their truth almost at the same time as they left your lips. That burst of heat you felt was reflected in a pink hue in the archer’s face and the tips of his ears.

He looked a little bashful but nodded and acquiesced to your request. “Alright. C’mon,” he said, gently taking your hand, avoiding the injuries carefully, and doing his best to ignore how nervous he felt when his fingers closed around it. He helped you out of bed and steadied you as you got to your feet. You glanced up at him, and your expression was so open and earnest he was frankly shocked by it. Could it really be that you were looking that way at him? His fingers were light under your elbow and his other hand was ghosting behind your back, centimeters away from making contact if needed as you started toward the door. “Ya alright?”

You nodded and gulped at the rush of feelings his hand around yours had brought, trying your hardest to ignore it. All you could do was nod. The two of you emerged onto the porch and Glenn and Maggie stood up immediately from their place nearby in the seating area. Both of them were all smiles to see you on your feet.

“You’re up,” Glenn said, looking at you with a bewildered smile. “This is amazing. It’s so good to see you awake!” His expression was nothing but kindness.

“How are you feelin’?” Maggie asked.

You nodded, glancing back over at Daryl and relaxing some as you saw one corner of his mouth was twitched up. His blue eyes were fixed on your face and he couldn’t look away. Seeing you actually awake and already on your feet was a huge relief after many days of sickening worry. “I feel alright. A little tired,” you admitted. Almost as if one cue you wavered a little on your feet, your knees feeling suddenly weak.

Daryl’s hand landed flush against the small of your back, immediately steadying you. “Easy,” he rumbled. “Ya alright?” You nodded, quite sure your cheeks were pink, and when you glanced back at him and mumbled a small “thanks” you thought maybe his cheeks were pink too. You turned back to Glenn and Maggie and your eyes drifted to all the numerous stitches on your arms. “I’m definitely a little worse for wear. But could have been worse…” you trailed off.

“Definitely,” Glenn said, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’re all just so glad you’re okay.”

Just at that moment you heard boots on the stairs and you looked up to see Rick, thumbs slung into his pockets as usual. Your heart rate increased with anxiety and you gulped at the sudden tightness in your throat. You’d killed his best friend. You’d pulled the trigger and killed Shane. “I’m sorry,” you said to the Sheriff.

But Rick was smiling at you with tears in his eyes, shaking his head slightly. “This is my fault,” he said suddenly, a rasp in his voice from emotion and your eyes widened in surprise. “This is my fault and I am so sorry. Daryl told me—and I should have listened. Shane was way more of a threat than I was willing to admit. This should have never happened to you,” he drawled. “And I hope you can forgive me at some point.”

You stared at him for a long moment, blinking in the sun and breathing in the freshness of the outside air. “It’s already forgiven,” you said softly, nodding at him.

Daryl stared at you in awe of how, despite everything you’d been through, you still could extend that forgiveness so easily.

Daryl sensed some shift in you and his brow drew down low over his eyes. “Let’s get ya back to bed. C’mon.”

You allowed him to help you back through the farmhouse and even into bed as you struggled not to put any weight on your left shoulder, wincing as you moved. Daryl watched you settled in and stood a bit awkwardly at your bedside. He nervously ran a hand back through his hair. “Well, I’ll let ya get some sleep,” he drawled, turning to leave.

“Daryl.”

He turned back to glance at you and your expression was a bit hesitant. “Hmm?”

“Would you stay? …please?”

He didn’t need to hear anything else. He planted himself right back down in the chair at the side of the bed and watched as some of the tension on your face eased.

“Thanks,” you said quietly with a sigh. Daryl watched as you closed your eyes and shifted, trying to make your shoulder more comfortable, but a moment later your eyes fluttered open again and met his. “He put the gun to my forehead,” you suddenly said quietly.

Daryl’s stomach plummeted and then swirled with anger. He stared back at you, incredulous with rage easily readable on his face.

“I made my peace with the fact that he was going to pull the trigger.” Your voice was somewhat disconnected, distant. “But then… he hesitated. And I took the chance and I fought.”

Daryl gulped. “Ya made it. Yer alright.”

You nodded and looked at him for a long moment, seemingly on the edge of saying something else, but you finally just sighed and your eyelids, now heavy with exhaustion, closed again. Soon, you were asleep. And Daryl stayed at your bedside and drifted off himself. _ _ _ _ _ _

Some time later You tossed down the game stringer, loaded with squirrels, in front of Daryl. “Ten,” you said, a wide grin spreading across your face. “What’d ya get?”

He looked up at you and affected an unamused expression. “Nine,” he drawled, pointing to his harvest waiting to be cleaned.

“Ha! I win again,” you said, absolutely brimming with joy. “I thought you said you were good at hunting?” you teased him.

He rolled his eyes at you and looked over as you sank down beside him. “Ya beat me by one. Ain’t exactly a landslide, is it?”

“A win is a win,” you announced with satisfaction.

He rolled his eyes again, but his expression quickly turned to concern as he caught you rubbing your shoulder. “Sore?” he asked you, his brow drawing down. “Maybe ya shouldn’t be hunting with that bow again yet.”

Your face softened as you caught his blue eyes. “I’m fine. It’s just a little tired, that’s all. Hershel says I need to build my strength up again.” Daryl’s eyes caught on the scar where the knife had been lodged into your shoulder. It was matched by many smaller ones on your arms, all with the same pink hue due to their newness. He could also see the brand on your arm, 1048, the remnant from your time under The Copperheads. Before, you would wear long sleeves in the height of the Georgian summer just to avoid anyone seeing that mark. Now there were a lot more scars added to it, but you didn’t seem to care. It was like you finally had a weight lifted off your shoulders and you felt free for the first time in a long time, unencumbered by your past.

“We should get ya a crossbow, like mine. Then ya wouldn’t have to hold the draw with that shoulder.”

“I like my old-fashioned recurve bow,” you said, pulling it over onto your lap and looking down at it fondly. “Especially because I can still beat you with it,” you smiled at him.

Daryl seemed suddenly fidgety and you picked up on it immediately. His eyes turned down and his expression was suddenly serious.

“What? What is it?”

He shrugged, still seemingly avoiding your eyes. “Can I ask ya somethin’?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “Always.”

He flicked his thumb along the sharp edge of his knife. “How—with everything that ya’ve been through, how come ya ain’t just angry? I’m angry just thinkin’ about it. And it didn’t even happen to me.”

“Mmm,” hummed thoughtfully. Your eyes turned out across the verdant pasture, toward the trees you’d spent the day under. “I am angry sometimes. But,” you shrugged, your right hand shielding over the scar on your left shoulder absently, “being angry doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t fix it. It all still happened.”

Your eyes grew a bit far-off, a bit distant. Daryl took several forced, deep inhales and gathered his courage before reaching over and taking your hand in his, pulling it away from your shoulder.

You looked over at him in surprise. Your hand felt small between his. Your gaze was questioning. Daryl’s heart was pounding so hard in his ears he couldn’t hear anything else. He gulped, trying to clear his throat so he could talk. “‘M gonna make sure nothin’ else bad happens to ya. As best I can,” he murmured.

You nodded almost imperceptibly, your eyes still a little wide from the unexpected action of him taking your hand in his. “Only if I can do the same thing for you.”

You saw him gulp nervously before he nudged his nose up in a nod at you. “Yeh, I think—I think that’d be alright,” he said.

You gave him a half-smile that he found incredibly endearing and his nerves finally got the better of him and he released your hand, clearing his throat and awkwardly rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m, uhh, just gonna go grab some more firewood,” he drawled, standing up abruptly and internally cursing at himself as he left you sitting alone by the fire. Fuckin’ coward. Despite all his attempts at denial, Daryl had realized over the last couple weeks that he couldn’t ignore how he felt about you anymore, but now he was stranded in this place between where he was and where he wanted to be with no idea how to bridge the gap. He wandered back with an armload of firewood, internally frustrated and kicking himself, but his frustration vanished almost immediately when he had dumped it next to the fire circle and glanced at you again. You were looking at him with that open expression, this time with a little inquisitive lift in one of your eyebrows.

“Hmm?” he hummed, pulling his bottom lip back in between his teeth and worrying it anxiously.

You tilted your head toward the place he’d previously been sitting and he gulped as he sat down, still feeling your eyes steady on him. He thought that now you looked a little nervous. “Can I ask you something?” you said quietly.

The archer nodded, nervous flutters flitting to life in his stomach.

“Umm… is it just me, or have you slept like shit, too, since I moved out of your tent?”

Once you were no longer staying in the house healing up, Daryl had moved your things out of his tent for you since there was no longer any need to worry about Shane. It wasn’t that you had asked him to, or that he’d even wanted to, it just seemed like he should…Afterwards, you’d actually moved your whole campsite closer to his, directly next to it, but you still found yourself tossing and turning on your cot, unable to fall asleep or stay asleep.

Daryl stared back at you for a moment in disbelief. He’d slept like garbage since you’d moved back, and he hadn’t even had the heart to fill the cleared space you’d once occupied with the stuff he previously had kept there. Now the emptiness loomed, drawing his eyes, the physical manifestation of how he felt something was just missing. When you slept on your cot across from him, he’d wake up in the middle of the night and look over at the shadow of your sleeping form. He always felt some swell of relief and maybe something else he couldn’t quite identify… Something about listening to your calm breathing always relaxed him and he found himself able to shut his eyes and drift off again. Maybe he’d gotten used to it. Maybe he shouldn’t have. But since you’d left, he’d been restless and anxious at night, wishing the material of his tent and yours would vanish so he could check on you.

Your nerves were growing with each moment of silence as you anxiously watched him, waiting for him to say something. “No, I—“ he had to clear his throat, nerves making his voice come out strangely strangled, “I’ve—” he let out a scoff of a laugh, almost incredulous he was about to say it to you, “I’ve slept like shit since ya left.”

“…really?”

He nodded, finally meeting your eyes again. “Mhm. Can’t fall asleep, can’t stay asleep, just feels like I lay there all the time w—”

You grabbed him by his lapel and pulled him toward you, pressing your lips softly to his, your eyes shut tightly, overwhelmed with nerves even while you melted into him. Your fingers cupped his face gently, like he was something fragile and Daryl was reeling.

By the time he reached back for you and got over his surprise you were already withdrawing and he blinked, bewildered, as he took in the wide-eyed expression on your face and your partially parted lips.

“Uhh—was that—okay?” you breathed, anxiety ratcheting up with each passing moment of uncertainty.

“Ya,” he drawled. It spilled from him like warm molasses. He watched as your face broke into a relieved smile and your cheeks burned pink.

“Good,” you murmured, unable to look at him any longer.

“Only I—I wasn’t ready,” he murmured. Your eyes flickered up to his again. He gulped nervously and reached out to move a strand of hair out of your eyes before clasping your face. His blue eyes were flickering between yours and then down to your lips. You could tell he was nervous and it brought a small smile to your face. Your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned toward him, only having to wait a second before you felt his lips crashing against yours.

This time the kiss was heated and urgent and he pulled you into him gently with his hand at the nape of your neck. You happily leaned in, smiling against his lips, your hand pressing flush to his strong chest and the other landing lightly on his side, driving him crazy. Daryl’s hand smoothed over your shoulder and down your bare arm, electricity rising in its wake.

When you broke apart this time, you were both all stunned smiles again, though now you couldn’t look away from each other.

“So, uhh—ya wanna stay with me tonight? Sounds like we both need some real sleep, ya know, and I dunno…” Daryl wasn’t used to asking for what he wanted so blatantly, or making himself vulnerable, but somehow you brought it out of him and he was willing to jump off that ledge if it meant he got to kiss you and touch you and hold you all night… things he had thought about plenty when he was lying on his cot, unable to sleep, but never saw as a reality.

You nodded, that same smile you always gave him glowing on your face. He was constantly amazed by the light you exuded; despite everything you’d been through… everything you’d shared with him.

He needed that. He needed the light. He needed you. You gave him hope.

That night you settled in against him, nervous but melting into the safeness of his arms around you. Daryl worried he was too overwhelmed to sleep, but moment by moment he realized how natural having you against him felt, how safe, how perfect, and before either of you spoke another word you both drifted off in blissful silence.

[squigglylinesdotthei]

Down Time

Pairing: GlennXReader

Warnings: 18+, Fluff, Smut, Oral (Male Receiving), Unprotected Sex, swearing

Wordcount:1898

A/N: Hey there, in this version, Maggie and Glenn were never a thing, they were always just friends. So… Without further ado, this is my first ever posted fic and my first ever posted smut so please go easy on me. I chose Glenn because I feel like he needs more lovin. If you enjoyed, let me know or send a request, I will write smut for 18+ characters only!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Glenn couldn't help but stare from his spot in the guard post as his girlfriend y/n bent over to pick up some crates brought in from Daryl and Abraham's run today. He eyed your round ass pulling perfectly at your denim shorts, sweat beginning to soak the collar of your tank top and bead down your chest. 'Shit' he thought, feeling his jeans grow just a tad tighter. ‘Let's hope that’s not an issue’. You look up at him and smile.

You look up as you were grabbing one of the last crates and catch Glenn staring at you from his post, you smile at him and he smiles back sending you a wink as he turns his attention back over the walls of Alexandria making you blush and look down, a small smile gracing your face. Your relationship with Glenn was no secret to anyone; it had started back at the prison with small glances and lingering touches, after a while though (and with A LOT of pushing from Maggie) your relationship came to flourish.

You carried your crate to the pantry, placing it onto the floor before standing back up and wiping the sweat off your forehead.

"thanks y/n" Olivia said walking over to you with a bottle of water handing it to you.

"Of course Olivia. Always happy to help" you responded with a huff, twisting open the bottle and taking long slow drinks from it. Olivia turns to the crates and begins to organize everything into its place. You turn around, recapping your bottle and walk out, spotting Glenn climbing down from the platform. You make your way over to him, smile on your face as he turns around to see you.

"Hey, you" he says winding his arms around your waist and dipping his head to give you a chaste kiss on your lips. You let out a small giggle stretching up to kiss back, dropping your arms over his shoulders.

"Hey," you respond after, same goofy grin on your face "all done for the day?" You question stepping back but keeping his hand in yours, you pass him the water as you lead him towards your shared house.

"Yeah, Rick said I could take the rest of the day off, something about workin myself too hard" he laughs, drinking some of the water, "finally some downtime" he pulls you close before dropping an arm around your shoulders leading you up the porch steps. You push the door open and turn in his arms holding his hands to lead him back into the house. 

"Well thank Rick for that," you smirk looking at Glenn through your lashes, god was he attractive, hair and shirt slightly dampened with sweat from standing in the sun, "I think I have a few ideas on how to fill this down time if your up for it" you bite your lip to hold back a grin as he kicks the door shut behind him.

"Oh yeah?" He quirks up a brow, mischievous grin now gracing his face, letting you know exactly what's going through his head. "what exactly did you have in mind, hmm baby girl?" He asks huskily as he tries to pull you closer as you wiggle free of his grasp.

You let out another playful giggle skipping to the bottom of the staircase, "most of them involve you, me, and that bed up there" you turn and start to run up the staircase, hearing Glenn's bootsteps close behind. You almost reach the bedroom before you let out a soft shriek as you felt his calloused hands grip your hips and twist you, pinning you against the door.

"Where're you runnin to huh?" He softly growls, before attacking your lips with his. You let out a moan, letting your arms fall to his shoulders and arching you back to grind on the thigh he had slotted between your legs. He took that opportunity to slip his tongue into the warmth of your mouth, quickly taking dominance. He breaks the kiss only to catch a breath and reattach to your neck, sucking and nipping at your collarbone, surely leaving a mark.

You moaned at the thought, "Glenn please," you breathed, for what you were asking for you didn't know, you just wanted more. He seemed to get the message though as he gripped the underside of your thighs and gave a small tug up.

"Jump," Glenn mumbled into your neck. you obeyed, hopping up and wrapping your legs around his waist softly moaning as his hard bulge brushed perfectly against your clothed core. Once you were secured you leaned over to begin peppering soft kisses across his neck. "Christ y/n," Glenn breathed, opening and closing the door to your shared room and laying you on the bed. He brought his lips back to yours, his hands sliding your tank top up, only breaking the kiss to pull the offending fabric over your head.

You begin to paw at the buttons of his loose gray button down, quickly undoing them and pushing it from his shoulders. Running your hands down his now bare chest you reach the waistband of his jeans, you fumble with his belt buckle for a moment before he grunts and pulls back from you to remove his pants and boots himself. You whine at the loss of contact before pulling your own bottoms off, kicking your shoes off too. 

Looking up at Glenn standing by the side of the bed, you sit up and admire him. His brown eyes darkened with lust, his thin but muscular frame, and his smooth chest rising and falling with every breath he takes. Down to his toned stomach before your eyes fall on his impressive cock, long, hard, thick and leaking with precum. Your mouth watering at the sight. You bite your lip thinking of how he tastes, and how good his length feels sliding down the back of your throat.

You roll over onto your front and crawl over to the edge of the bed, making him step closer as you did. Standing there he looked down at you with anticipation as you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, guiding it to your lips. You part your lips and stick out your tongue to lick the underside of his head before taking it into your mouth, sucking on it.

Glenn Rolled his head back and groaned, tangling his hand into your h/c locks. “Fuck y/n just like that sweetheart.” you groan at the praise taking him deeper into your throat, feeling your panties grow even wetter. He lets out another low groan before pulling you off his member with a soft pop of your lips. “As good as you look with your pretty lips around my cock, that’s not where I wanna cum tonight.” he smiles at you, lifting your chin to look into his eyes. “Lay back princess.”

You follow his instruction, sitting up and removing your bra in the process, he climbs over you as you settle onto the pillows, resting his weight on his left arm he brings his right hand up to your cheek, pressing a soft passionate kiss to your lips. He parts from your lips and begins to trail kisses down your neck to your chest before pulling one of your hardened nipples into his mouth. You gasped out a moan as his tongue swirled around your bud. His hands continue down to the hem of your panties. Sliding them down your legs and off your body before bringing one hand back to the bed beside your head, and the other cupping your soaking core.

“Fuck me Glenn,” you cry out as his finger slides through your folds and brushes your clit. You arch your back trying to get more friction, “Glenn please, I need you,” you plead, wrapping your arms around his back trying to pull him closer, desperate for any type of friction Glenn was willing to give you.

“Shit, you’re fuckin soaked,” he breathes, loving the way he makes you fall apart, your small moans all made just for him, made because of him, “I know Babygirl, m’gonna take care of you” he says taking his hand around his length running his it along your folds, gathering some of your slick before pressing into you with one long slow thrust, the two of you couldn't stop the loud moans that escaped you both as Glenn slid home.

He stayed there for a moment, bottomed out, wrapped up in the feeling of your twitching velvet warmth. Groaning you roll your hips urging Glenn to move, his eyes rolled back in his head as he buries his face in your neck and begins to roll his hips.

“Fuck y/n, you’re so tight,” he grunts in your ear, nipping at your pulse point.

“Glenn, harder please” you pant, digging your nails into his back when he pulls almost all the way out before slamming back into you. You nearly scream in ecstasy as he drags across your g spot, his pubic bone brushing your clit with every thrust. “Oh God Glenn, just like that!” you cry as he continues to pound into you. You clench around him, causing him to throw his head back and groan. You take the opportunity to bring your lips to his neck sucking a mark onto his pulse point, nipping down as the coil in your lower belly tightens.

“Glenn, I-I’m gonna cum,” you groan, clenching around him again, he brings his hand down to your clit and begins working it in quick strokes, with a loud moan of his name the coil snapped, sending you tumbling over the edge. Tensing around him he fucks you through your orgasm chasing his own.

His hips falter, and you can tell he’s close. You wrap your legs around his waist and tangle your hands in his dark hair, you pull him down for a kiss, pulling away you look into his eyes, clouded with pleasure.

“Cum for me Glenn, lemme feel you baby” you whisper, rolling your hips to meet him. His hips still against you and he lets out a deep moan as you feel him pulse inside you and his cum coat your walls, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as he rocked into you, not ready to give up his feeling of bliss just yet.

It was the feeling of you pressing soft kisses along his jaw that brought him back down. He slipped his softening member out of you and rolled onto his back, you groaned at the loss before rolling over to lay your head on his chest. His arm wrapped around you as he used the other to pull the blanket over the two of you.

“Thank you y/n,” he says, pulling you tighter to his side, “What did I do to land me someone like you?” he asks, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“You know I ask myself the same question,” you giggle tracing shapes on his chest with your finger, suppressing a yawn as you felt your eyelids grow heavy. “I love you Glenn” you say, words slightly slurred as you start to fall asleep.

“I love you too y/n,” Glenn presses another small kiss to the top of your head before drifting off himself.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I probably wont post super often but I’ll post when I can. If you did enjoy, lemme know and consider a follow

[graniairish]

Walking on Eggshells – Part 2

Hello my dears. I just couldn't resist and had to write a second part. (maybe there will also be a part 3)

Pairing: Daryl x female! Reader

Words: 5159

Warnings: language, sexual content, NSFW, 18+ (my first attempt to write smut in English - hope it didn't get too bad)

Part one

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"Um ... what ..."

You stood in the door of your room, confused. Hershel had finally released you into "home care" after almost a week of continuous surveillance in the infirmary. In your opinion, the older man was exaggerating a little. You were fine, you had no dizziness, and the headache was gone. But that did not stop Hershel from telling you to take it easy anyway.

Your beloved work in the vegetable fields had to wait for the time being.

Somewhat reluctantly, you had agreed to everything, only to finally be able to go back to your own four walls. You wanted to sleep in your own bed again, even if it was just a simple Prison bed in the former director's office. But still, it was your home.

But you did not expect what you found there now.

As if rooted to the ground, you stood in the middle of the room and looked around with big eyes in disbelief.

Your room, your little private realm, should actually be here. But the room in front of you was no longer your room. Your things were still there, but they were not the only ones that filled the shelves on the walls.

The most noticeable change, however, was your bed. It was still in the far corner of the room, but it looked absolutely strange. Because right next to it there was now a second, and the way the sheet was stretched over it made it look like a double bed.

"I thought Hershel wouldn't release ya until tonight," you heard Daryl's deep voice behind you.

Still slightly confused, you turned to the archer. He stood uncertain in the doorway, Crossbow slung over his shoulder, hands clasped on the strap. His blue eyes were fixed on you as he chewed the inside of his cheek - his nervous tic.

And how this man was nervous right now, and it was not just his ears that betrayed him - which had just turned deep red.

Daryl did not expect to find you here now. He actually wanted to talk to you about it first and not just put you in front of a fait accompli. Though, somehow, he would have done it one way or another.

He was afraid he had done something wrong, crossed a line, or something like that.

"I couldn't take it there any longer."

Only now did you notice that his hair was wet and still dripping. Could it be that he had showered?

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod.

“I know we didn't talk about it,” he began uncertainly, “but Hershel said it would be better if someone took care of ya. And since there is no chance that ya will move back into the cell block, I thought that would be a good solution."

“That's right,” you had to smile, “I'm not going back there so quickly anymore. I like my privacy."

"Well, if it bothers you ... that I ... then ..."

"No no, I don't mind" you might answer a little too quickly, "I ... I was just ... surprised."

The man across from you felt instantly relieved. You, the woman he loved, wanted to live with him. He could hardly believe his luck.

Daryl took off his Crossbow and leaned it against the wall by the door before walking slowly towards you, his eyes full of love.

“Y/N/N we wasted so much time. I don't want to waste another minute. We don't know how much time we have left."

Daryl lovingly cupped your chin with two fingers while he gently touched your lips with his.

You could not help but melt into his touch. That you could do this now was still a miracle to you, and you would enjoy every single second of it to the full.

"But I sleep on the right side," you finally said with mischief in your eyes when your lips had separated.

"Forget it", Daryl snorted and went to the bed, "I'm sleepin’ between the door and ya."

You rolled your eyes with a smile. Always the protector.

"Don't think I didn't see that."

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

A few weeks had passed since the incident during your run. You are now working side by side with Rick in the vegetable fields again. The plants were blooming and developing fantastically - and they would be very good yielding.

After a long shower to wash dirt and sweat from your body, you made your way to the inner courtyard of the prison, which was used as a canteen during the warmer months of the year. Dinner had just started, and so all residents, regardless of whether they were old or new, huddled together to have their meal together.

When Daryl returned from his shift at the Guard Tower, he spotted you chatting with Carol who was just distributing the food. He liked how carefree you looked at that moment.

Without thinking about it, he walked over to you and greeted you with a kiss on the cheek before you had the chance to notice him.

"Yuck, don't do that," you giggled, "you're all sweaty."

"And hungry," he said with a grin.

Carol shook her head with a smile before filling two bowls and holding them out to you.

"Here take these, you lovebirds."

Taking the bowls Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod and went with you to the table where Glenn and Maggie were already sitting.

You had not noticed how your loving and familiar way of dealing with each other had been uncomfortable for some - or at least for one.

Michelle was sitting at a table with several other Woodbury residents and had been watching you with narrowed eyes. Green with envy, she got up at some point and went back to the cell block where she lived.

But Carol had noticed, and she would move heaven and earth to keep this woman from disrupting your relationship.

Little by little, Rick and the other members of your sworn family joined you to enjoy the meal together and to end the day.

"We should slowly start bringing our supplies up to date," Rick skillfully changed the subject.

That was his less than subtle way of reducing the conversation to necessities.

"Or in other words, time for a run," Daryl said in a nutshell.

“Tightly sealable preserving jars would be important. It will soon be harvest time and we have to preserve the fruit and vegetables. Thank God we have a lot more than we need right now."

That was the first thing that came to your mind. After all, it was important to have vitamins in winter too. Even if cooked fruit and vegetables were nowhere near as tasty as fresh ones. But in those times, you were grateful for everything. And in winter, fruit and vegetables were actually a luxury.

“We should also think about how to heat the buildings. The winter could last longer than we'd like”, Daryl expressed his concerns.

"If we had animals, pigs or goats, maybe even sheep, we would be better supplied with meat."

Hershel had always been a farmer, and you could only agree with the man with a smile.

"Or chickens," said Maggie with a dreamy look, "once again a real roast chicken, that would be something nice."

"Or turkey," you added.

"I just think you can't find something like that on the next street corner," said Glenn, who now leaned over the map that Rick had spread out in the middle of the table.

"Well, the weekly cattle market will probably be canceled."

Daryl's cynical response made you roll your eyes.

"If ya keep doin’ this, these things will eventually get stuck," he said in your direction with a raised index finger.

"That's what my grandmother always meant," you said with a shrug, "and nothing has happened so far."

“You both sound like an old married couple. Really disgusting”, Carl shook himself.

You and Daryl looked at each other questioningly for a moment before you slapped the boy lightly on the back of the head at the same time - he on the right and you on the left.

For about five seconds there was absolute silence at the table, until everyone started laughing uproariously as if on command - except for Carl, who was rubbing his head tightly.

“What that would prove,” Rick grinned as he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, “but seriously now. Does anyone have any ideas?"

“I know there was a farm supply center in the south. From seeds to packaging material to combine harvesters, everything was there. The only question is whether that still stands."

Hershel leaned over the map and pointed to an area southeast of the Prison.

“That's a good hundred miles, and only if you drive on the main roads. It will be a run for several days on back roads."

Your stomach cramped painfully at Glenn's words. You knew that Daryl would go on the run. Unfortunately, since the incident, it had become very clear to you that there was no assurance that someone would come back from a run. And the thought that something might happen to Daryl made you uneasy.

“While we're there, we might as well stop by this huge warehouse complex 30 miles to the east. I think there are still some useful things there. "

Glenn glanced at the place on the map Maggie was pointing with her finger.

"Wasn't that an Amazon warehouse?"

"Yea, why are you asking?"

"Well, I think that this time it won’t work with overnight express."

At Glenn's stupid saying you had to smile, like everyone else. Though yours was more of a bitter smile. This run would certainly not be overnight.

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

"Everythin’ okay? Ya are never that quiet."

It was getting late. The moon was shining through the windows of your shared room and you could hear the crickets outside. You were snuggled close to Daryl, your head on his shoulder, your legs intertwined. You stared in silence into the darkness of your room, which was only faintly illuminated by the moonlight.

Daryl gently stroked your back. Usually there was something incredibly calming about it, and it never took you long to fall asleep relaxed - but not today. The worries about what could go wrong with the run did not let you calm down that night.

In a few hours he would be gone with Maggie and Glenn, as well as a few others. The fear of losing him paralyzes your thoughts.

"Ya don’t sleep. I know that. I can hear ya thinkin’."

You did not answer, just took a deep breath - in and out again. What should you say?

> I'm afraid something will happen to you <

> I'm scared of losing you <

> Please don't go <

There was nothing to be said, just that nagging feeling was there. This fear that the man by your side could suddenly be snatched away from you.

Daryl put his arm around you and hugged you tight as he kissed the top of your head and let his lips linger there for a moment.

"We're a well-coordinated team," he finally began as he leaned his head against yours, "and it's not the first time we've done such a big tour."

It almost seemed as if Daryl had read your mind, yet all his confidence could not take away your worries.

"I promise I'll come back to ya."

"You can't promise that Daryl."

The archer released his hug and shifted his weight so that you were eventually half under him. Leaning on his left arm, he looked down at you, the contours of your face only faintly visible in the light of the darkness.

"I promise I will come back to ya Y/N. We both have our whole lives ahead of us, and I don't intend to miss a second of it."

"Nobody knows ..."

But you did not get any further, Daryl's lips were instantly on yours. At first the kiss was deep and full of longing, but after a while it became more and more hungry. Your fingers ran through his hair and played with them on the back of his neck while your tongues fought for dominance.

As Daryl's hands slowly moved down your ribs, your lips parted for a much-needed breath.

Right at the beginning of your relationship, you discussed that sex would not be an issue for you for the time being. After what had happened to Lori, Daryl simply could not and did not want to take the risk of pregnancy. Condoms were not to be found for a long time. And neither of you wanted to play Russian roulette - like Maggie and Glenn.

But there were other ways of showing how much you loved each other, how much you wanted each other - other ways of having fun together.

Daryl's right hand went down to your ass, which he gripped tightly as he pulled you close.

You moaned softly as you could feel him rubbing his growing erection on your most sensitive spot. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him closer to you. An approving growl left his mouth as he left hot kisses on your neck, making sure to suck the spot that caused your thighs to tighten around him.

You ran your trembling fingers through his hair, trying to hold onto the feeling of his lips against your skin.

The hand on your ass eventually moved down the back of your thigh - as he pulled it closer - which changed the angle of your pelvis significantly. The lustful moan that came out of your lips as you rubbed against him only made him harder against the layers of clothing.

God how good it felt for him when you took your pleasure into your own hands. But you did not get far, because Daryl's kisses slowly wandered further down. A pleasant shiver ran through you.

You knew exactly what he was up to and the anticipation made you almost impatient.

But he took his time, first freed you from your shirt and then devoted himself to your nipples with relish - first the right, then the left - until they were both hard and upright.

The longing feeling in your most private place became more and more unbearable and in an attempt to get some friction, you tried to rub yourself against his thigh.

Daryl only chuckled.

"Impatient, are we?"

Daryl's kissed down your stomach before leaning back. He was now kneeling between your legs. For a moment he soaked up the picture in front of him, burned it into his memory. How you laid in front of him, lower lip between your teeth, breathing heavily, your legs spread, the unmistakable traces of your arousal on your underwear.

A moan came from your lips as he finally ran his hands up the inside of your thighs. Without touching the place where you needed him most, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and freed you from this annoying piece of fabric with one flowing movement.

The sight the archer now saw made his cock twitch painfully.

It was almost like torture how slowly he ran his thumb through your folds and collected what already glistened there.

With faltering breath, you watched him as he slowly brought his hand to his mouth and licked his thumb clean with an animalistic growl.

You came almost instantly at the sight.

When he finally sank his middle finger into you, you threw your head back and closed your eyes in delight. He pumped his finger into you a few times before adding a second. He twisted and curled them in just the right way so that with each thrust he perfectly hit the spot inside you that made you squirm under him.

Your moaning grew louder as he closed his lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves and began to suck rhythmically. Your orgasm rolled closer and closer, and the knot in your stomach tightened until it was about to snap.

"Daryl - fuck - I ..."

"then let go - for me."

And that was exactly what you did. You came with his name on your lips, repeated like a prayer, and with each new wave Daryl took whatever you were willing to give him. You tasted like nothing else to him, and he could never get enough of you.

He slowly kissed his way back up to your neck while his fingers were still moving slowly inside you.

Your hands went into his hair and hungrily drawn his lips to yours. Just a moment later your tongues fought for dominance; you could taste yourself on his. Now your hands slowly made their way down to his crotch. He wanted to hold back. But he could not help himself, and grinded into your palm to find the relief he needed so damn bad.

Daryl's hips spasmed, thrusting forward a few times before he was groaning and shaking his head.

"No. Tonight is just about ya."

"But ..."

Before you could go on, his lips were back on yours in a demanding kiss.

" I wanna make ya feel so good today, that ya'll be happy to have a few days off."

And with that statement, his fingers left your hot core, only to re-enter with one more.

Your eyes rolled back when you felt him stretch you.

"Fuck," you hissed as you tried desperately to find hold while Daryl's fingers kept trusting into you.

As he felt the sweet pain of your nails scratching his back, his cock twitched painfully in his shorts.

The thought that you marked him, that you would let him run around with declarations of your love on his body for the next few days, almost drove him mad. He started rubbing his crotch against your thigh for some relief as he fluidly moved in and out of you, getting you closer and closer to your next release.

The knot inside you got tighter and tighter, and you tried desperately to keep it from snaping again. Your legs started to shake involuntarily, and you knew you would not be able to resist much longer. Your breath came in shorter intervals and your moans got higher and higher. It would not last long till you would be swept away by pure bliss.

When the wave finally hit you, it was an overwhelming feeling. Your inner walls clenching and unclenching around his fingers again and again as your orgasm swept you away like a tsunami.

It took you a few moments to come back from your high while Daryl's gentle movements of his fingers let your orgasm slowly fade out.

"Okay", you began with a trembling voice as he slowly left your inner core, "that was something else."

Daryl’s head rested on the crook of your neck as you slowly recovered your breath, but you could still feel him chuckled lightly.

Slowly you stroked his hair and patted his neck. When he shifted his position slightly so that he did not crush you any further, you noticed that his shorts were suspiciously stuck to you.

Apparently, he had enjoyed this whole interaction too.

"I love you," you whispered before leaving a kiss on his sweaty forehead.

"Love ya more."

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

You patiently worked your way through the corn plants with the rake. The work was strenuous because the plants were close together - after all, you needed the greatest possible yield in a small area - and the relentless Georgian sun burned down on you.

Your hair stuck to you and the sweat kept dripping from the brim of your straw hat. Your arms ached, and despite the leather gloves you wore, you had blisters on your hands where they were tightly gripping the wooden handle of your gardening tool.

But despite everything, you kept working. You had to work through the soil so that the weeds had less chance to dispute the valuable nutrients from the crops.

This large field that you had laid out in the style of the "three sisters" was your whole pride. Corn, beans and pumpkins, the holy trinity of this bed, were perfectly coordinated. The Native Americans had already cultivated these three plants in this way.

And what worked for them could work for you too.

You have been toiling for hours. Your clothes were soaked in sweat and your back ached. Nevertheless, you continue to work, moving slowly but steadily through the beds.

"Here," you heard Rick say behind you at some point.

With great effort you straightened up and massaged your back. You felt every single vertebra as it slowly popped back into its original position. An exhausted moan could be heard as you finally turned to the man behind you.

Rick just stood there, bottle of water in hand, his eyes fixed on the fields.

You gratefully took the bottle from him and took a few sips of the refreshing liquid. Especially with such sweaty work in the blazing sun, it was incredibly important to drink enough if you did not want to suffer sunstroke.

And unfortunately, you were predestined to forget it sometimes. But Rick paid attention. You were family, and family looked after each other.

“Looks really good. If the plants continue to grow like this, we will be able to bring in quite a good yield. You are really a talented little farmer."

You looked at him in surprise with raised eyebrows.

"I'm not sure right now whether I should thank you or whether you insulted me."

“Believe me Y/N”, Rick laughed and put his hand on your shoulder, “that was meant as a compliment. An honest compliment. If we didn't have you, we almost certainly wouldn't even be able to harvest half as much. You really have a knack for it."

“Well, everyone does what they can. And I can do that."

You lowered your gaze. You felt uncomfortable when someone complimented you, so you tried to belittle it.

"No", Rick smiled at you friendly, "some do more than others."

After a long day of work and a long - but cold - shower, you sat down with Carol for dinner. You missed your family members. You missed Daryl.

The presence of the older woman had been a comfort to you in the last few days. This run had been going on for five days now, and it was impossible to tell when they would be back.

The feeling you felt in the pit of your stomach was almost the same as when Daryl had disappeared into the forest with Merle. Back then you thought you would never see him again.

But it was different now. Now you had hope that you would see him again.

Maybe.

“It's only been five days Y/N/N. It's too early to worry,” Carol tried to cheer you up.

"I'm not worried," you said stubbornly while you continued to stare at your now cold food.

"Yes of course. That's exactly why you've been poking around in your meal for ten minutes. You haven't even taken a bite."

You looked tiredly at the woman across from you.

“Eat, you worked hard. And tomorrow you will work as hard again as I know you. You need the calories. And believe me, you'd rather eat it voluntarily than have me cram it into you."

Carol had used her best mother voice. Even if Carol was not many years older than you, this woman had somehow become a mother's substitute for you.

After a few moments you finally began to empty your bowl slowly.

Getting around the days was easy. There was always enough work in the gardens and in the fields, you were busy and did not have much time to think.

In the nights it was different. They were bad.

The bed was way too big for you alone, and you lacked the warmth of Daryl's body.

Even on the hot nights of Georgia, you always fell asleep snuggled together. Ever since you had spent your first night like this, you knew that you could never do it again without it.

Now you were alone. Yet again. Daryl was still on this fucking run, and the solitude in those four walls that you had always enjoyed before, now seemed overwhelming to you.

What is he doing right now? Was he okay? Was he thinking of you, too?

With these wistful thoughts, you finally drifted into a dreamless sleep.

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

"If they are not back by tomorrow, we will send a search party out," announced Rick over breakfast.

You made no reply as you continued to choke down your small portion of porridge, bite by bite. You were not really hungry, but Carol's stern look had kept you from skipping breakfast.

“I'm sure they are fine. They will definitely be back here soon, "said Hershel soothingly," they are all experienced with such actions. They are sure to be fine."

Yes, they were all experienced, knew how to behave and how to protect themselves, but that nagging feeling persisted in you.

You had spent the whole morning working in the fields again, laboriously dragging buckets of water to provide the crops with enough moisture. If it did not rain soon, this would probably be your main occupation for the next few days and weeks.

You had two canisters tied to the outer end of a thick wooden stick. So, you could carry the heavy burden on your shoulders and not in your aching hands.

As you were trudging up the hill again with a full load of water, Rick was leaning against the base of the central guard tower, smiling, and staring into the distance.

"Looks as if we could save ourselves the search."

These words made your body tingly and you immediately turned to face the gates. You could not prevent an unspeakably bright smile from spreading on your face.

"Oh my god," you whispered when you saw the column of cars approaching the prison.

An unmistakable chopper at the head of the convoy.

An army of butterflies exploded in your stomach when you saw Daryl. He was back. He really came back to you.

When he finally brought his bike to a stop and casually dismounted it, you couldn't hold back any longer. Without further hesitation, you dropped the water canisters, which hit the floor with a thud, and immediately spread their moist contents over the floor.

You ran quickly towards Daryl. But even before you had covered half the distance, he was already coming towards you - a radiant smile on his lips.

When you finally met, you immediately put your arms around each other in a tight hug. Your head rested on his chest while he laid his head lovingly on top of yours.

Cuddled so tightly you could hear how fast his heart was beating, and an indescribable feeling of happiness flooded your body. Daryl was back - back by your side.

"Did you miss me," he finally began, and you could hear him grinning right away.

“No,” you answered, “not at all. Not one bit."

“Felt the same way."

With these words, his strong arms tightened around you even more, as if he were trying to melt into you.

So absorbed in your reunion, it took some time until you noticed that Rick and Carol were already discussing the successful run with the rest of the group.

"We got almost everything," you heard Glenn say when you had finally separated from each other and now went to the cars where everyone else was standing - your little fingers still hooked together.

"We found hundreds of canning jars and even seeds," added Sasha.

"Wheat, oat and a lot more." Maggie pointed to the back of the overcrowded pickup truck.

"And we also solved the problem with the heating," said Daryl mysteriously.

This run was really a complete success. But the biggest surprise was yet to come.

> C O C K A D O O D L E D O O <

Suddenly the gushing and loud greeting was silent. Inquiring eyes met knowing faces.

You and Rick looked at each other as to ask if you really had heard this now.

> C O C K A D O O D L E D O O <

"What the hell is that", Rick wanted to know.

"What did it sound like?"

Daryl grinned mischievously and leaned casually against his bike; arms crossed over his chest. His chin raised challengingly.

"No," was all you could say at that moment.

"Yea," Daryl nodded, still grinning.

"No way!"

"Yea, a rooster and six chickens."

"How? Where? How?"

You were completely surprised and had to grin broadly. That was one of the best that could have happened to your community.

"Believe it or not, they were just walking around on a street corner," Glenn explained, looking incredulous about his statement himself.

"So the cattle market wasn't closed after all," you replied sarcastically.

Immediately Daryl had to roll his eyes.

"Just don't start with that," you chuckled and gave him a playful clap on the upper arm.

“You really missed something Y/N,” said Maggie with a grin, “believe me it was really impressive to see how Daryl caught the poultry. Didn't know that he was doing so well as a farmer."

"Yea, ha-ha, very funny!"

Daryl's ears had turned deep red, but then he had to laugh himself at the thought of this chicken-catching operation.

"I really would have liked to see that," you said with a laugh.

"Well, maybe there will be a repetition," said Glenn, "we have to get the critters out of the car somehow without them getting lost again."

"Ya can forget that right away," Daryl announced in a stern voice.

"Don't worry, I'll help you", you smiled at your boyfriend.

After a few minutes of reunion, you started to get the supplies out of the cars and to distribute them in the storage rooms.

Building a chicken coop was definitely on your to-do list for tomorrow. And it has been a long time since you had been looking forward to a job as much as this.

"And I found something for you too," Maggie whispered to you when she put her arm around your shoulders in a friendly manner.

You two had just cleared away a load of canning jars and were about to trot back to the cars.

"And that would be?"

Surprised you stopped and looked at her questioningly. You did not ask her to get you anything.

“I won't tell you yet,” she smiled, “but you will definitely enjoy it - as well as Daryl."

With these words, your best friend left you in the yard as she made her way back to the cars with a mischievous grin.

Part one Part tree