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juuuulez · 4 months

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📰 | part ten: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers, gun violence, father figure! Negan, soooomeeee ooonneee has a crush, teenagers in love.

summary: You tussle with your emotions regarding Carl, whilst Grimes and co pay a surprise visit to the Sanctuary.

omg i’m on fire!!!!! cliffhanger ending……but also next chapter will be similarly juicy so don’t fret! also half-written a carl x reader oneshot/drabble i’ll post soon between chapters :P

i’m so glad you all love my saviour reader story because i am her she is me…….this series is my CHILD i will defend it with my life!

-> masterlist <-

You hadn’t been to Alexandria in, frankly, what felt like years.

It was actually just weeks.

With an alliance between Hilltop, the Kingdom, and Alexandria, things for the Saviours were trickier than ever. Most of the time Negan spent in his office, trying to decode the best play. You helped, of course, and were practically running yourself ragged trying to keep things together at the Sanctuary.

It felt like everyone knew what was happening. Or they expected it, were waiting for it. It irritated you to no end, that others would blatantly show their disbelief in your cause, in Negan’s cause.

And then there was Carl.

You missed him, which was weird. He had become a constant in your life, the arguing and fighting, the pushing and shoving. But now your relationship had crested into something else… and you didn’t hate it.

In fact, you quite enjoyed kissing Carl.

Not that you’d admit that. To him, to anyone. Nobody needed that amount of power over you.

“You can go to bed, doll.”

You looked up from your lap, where a book of supply schedules was scribbled down. You were seated on that long leather couch in Negan’s office, whilst he worked on god knows what. Hopefully a viable strategy.

“No, I’m fine.” You tell him, politely. Too politely.

Truth is, you were hanging on by a thread. But with no supplies from Alexandria, nor Hilltop, the situation at the Sanctuary was becoming dire. You were trying to figure out how to jig things around so that everyone could be satisfied, or maybe even rethinking the points system, making the imaginary economy more competitive.

“I’m serious,” Negan insists, “You don’t gotta be doin’ this shit. It’s below you.”

You roll your eyes, “Who’s gonna do it, then? Simon’s corpse?”

The sarcastic comment earns you a glare in return, which does make you feel a little bad. You’d watched the brawl firsthand, and had almost tried to help Negan, if not for Dwight holding you back. Either way, it didn’t matter, for Simon was eventually strangled to death.

Brutal, but fitting.

Maybe you were trying to fill that void. The line between right-hand man and teenage daughter was thinning.

Negan rose from his seat, coming over to stand in front of you. He didn’t even need to lean down, swiftly plucking the tattered notebook from your lap, to which you groaned and leaned back on the couch.

He inspected it, reading over the numbers and scrawled figures. “You’re doing this wrong.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you should start making your wives do the bookkeeping.” You grumbled, laying down on the couch in defeat.

Negan tossed the notebook onto the coffee table, sitting on the couch opposite you. “Doubt they can count past ten.”

It was a terrible thing to say, but got a smile out of you. It was difficult to be in a good mood on so little sleep, so the tiniest hint of happiness was well appreciated.

“When will we go to Alexandria again?”

You tried not to sound too interested in the question, but couldn’t help yourself, and needed to ask. Not for Carl, just for supplies. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“Soon. Give it another week,” Negan confirmed, though his eyes said he knew something more. “Awfully interested in that shithole, aren’t you?”

This caused you to roll over, onto your side, so you could glare over at the older man. “We need that shithole to survive.”

There was a playful glint on Negan’s face, the words earning a small laugh from him. “Maybe you do. Bet you’re just itchin’ for your little cyclops.”

The joke causes you to bristle, irritation rising as you hoist yourself from the couch, making a play for the door. On such little sleep, you weren’t in the mood to entertain being teased.

But Negan stopped you, that grin still on his face. “Hey, c’mon, doll. You know I’m just tryin’ to rile you up.” He admits, coming to a stand.

The glare remains, but at least you stop your escape, instead just standing near the door with your arms crossed. You’d likely give some defensive retort, but Negan is already speaking again.

“Everyone has their first crush at some point. I’m just surprised it took you this long.”

“I don’t have a crush,” You practically snarl. “I’m not twelve years old.”

“Okay, sorry. Not a crush,” Negan approaches slowly, like you’ll run off again, though is pleased when you stand still. “Sounds like it’s past your bedtime.”

Your nose scrunches up, eyes narrowed in offence as he continues to treat you like a child. But you know he’s just making a point to tease you, judging by that stupid grin on his face, so you try not to react.

His hands bracket your arms, giving you a little spin so that you’re facing the door. But now you sigh, turning back around, unable to just drop this conversation all together.

“You don’t care?” You ask. “Like, if I did have a crush, you don’t even mind? Not that I do, I’m just… wondering.”

Negan smiles, finding your half-confession quite adorable. “That’s what kids do, darlin’. Besides, the boy’s got his head on straight. Certainly got more balls than his father.”

You look down at the floor, a little pensive. “I don’t have a crush on Carl.” You reiterate, standing your ground, trying to sound firm in order to convince the both of you.

He seems to get the hint, understanding that maybe you don’t even know what’s going on. “I know, doll. Don’t stress it too much.” Negan drops the subject, letting his arm encase your back for a small squeeze before letting you go. “Go get some rest.”

You muster up a little smile, finally accepting the offer and scampering back off to bed. After all, you were exhausted, despite that inherent need to make yourself useful. Supply counts could wait.

It was a comforting space, your bedroom, one you retreated to whenever things got overwhelming. It was filled with photos and trinkets, candy stashed away in the drawers, all the things you didn’t have when growing up. It was your space.

That night, you fell asleep weighing the severity of simply going to Alexandria yourself. You passed out a few minutes into debating what transportation to take.

Fortunately, or, probably unfortunately, that wasn’t necessary.

For Alexandria had come to you.

Gunfire was a familiar sound to wake up to. Usually, it was a low-level squabble, or maybe one of the Saviours proving a point. Either way, it never lasted long.

But this time, there was shouting, and more bullets. It was enough to jolt you awake, pushing past that bleary state of consciousness and waiting, still, for it to continue.

It did.

You climbed out of bed with urgency, moving on autopilot as you threw on some jeans, not bothering to change from your sleep tank before bolting for the door.

Just as your fingertips brushed the bat, you realised it wouldn’t do. That gun was still locked away in the bottom drawer, so you reached for it, shoving a handful of bullets into your pocket before leaving.

Now, you’ve never been a very good shot. That’s why you preferred using the bat, or at the very least, hand-to-hand combat. You had terrible aim. But maybe now was the best time to fix that issue.

So, you made your way through the Sanctuary, swiftly stepping through hallways, gun at the ready. You were outside in minutes, the shouting becoming much clearer now, a voice you could recognise:

Rick Grimes.

“Fuck this..” You grumbled, growing irritated with this relentless back and forth. And now, they were in your home.

Another shot blew out the glass from above you, forcing you further against the wall, as the shards piled on the concrete. Some littered your skin, your shoulders bare, due to still wearing a tank intended for sleeping. You didn’t even have a bra on.

But there were worse problems, you supposed.

The gun felt heavy in your hands, fingers twitching around the trigger. Hopefully you wouldn’t have to use it, though that seemed like wishful thinking. You wondered where Negan was, yet believed he could handle himself. You and this gun were the main concern, a gun you had no idea how to use effectively.

You hid behind anything available, crouched down, trying to survey the surroundings. From here, you could see the scattered factions of makeshift soldiers, though Rick was now missing. You presumed he had a similar thought process to you: Negan.

That was fine, for now.

Clutching the gun tightly, you shifted into view, holding it outwards and discharging a shot into the distance. It echoed in the nearby vicinity, though there was too much gunfire to distinguish where it had came from, luckily. It didn’t seem to hit anyone.

What a waste.

“Hey!”

It was a whisper-shout, one clearly intended to gain your attention. You spun your head around, searching for the voice, amongst all the yelling and fighting taking place within your home. It took an embarrassing amount of time until you saw him.

Carl.

Thank fucking god.

He’d been watching you, on alert for your figure the second they arrived. He clocked your creeping approach into the battle field, ducking behind anything possible. It was almost amusing, the stark contrast in how you usually chose to fight, but made sense after you fired that hopeless shot.

You had no idea what was going on, assuming that Negan and Rick were off fighting, whilst a few Saviours tried to keep the rival gang at bay. Or gangs, plural. You guessed that speaking to Carl would be your best chance at getting a grip on the situation. That, and you weren’t in the mood for a defensive Saviour to shoot him.

So, you tried to get closer, looking left and right to make sure the coast was clear before ducking behind rubble or vehicles, anything to provide cover. Carl was used to fighting, sure, but felt slightly anxious for a reason he couldn’t pin. It was just a bad feeling, like something was not right.

This time, Carl called out your name, causing you to look up and at attention. He held out his hand, despite being meters away, a signal to come closer under the cover he’d found.

You clutch the gun tightly, safety off, poised at your side. But it’s difficult to see everyone, from this position, forcing you to inch out from behind the truck in order to get a visual.

Still holding out his hand, Carl waits, watching as you peek your head out.

Pop!

A shot fires, crackling in the distance, though it takes you down with a solid thud.

#carl grimes x reader #the walking dead x reader #negan smith x reader #twd x reader #carl grimes #twd x you #carl grimes x you #the walking dead #negan smith

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celtic-crossbow · 5 months

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Right on the Wrong Side of It All

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Savior Era

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore, canonical character death, blood, injuries

Summary: Negan doesn’t take Daryl. In the aftermath of the lineup, you’re trying to keep it together while Daryl is falling apart.

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

It wasn’t that you didn’t care about the others. You were all in the same predicament. You were all scared. You were all angry. Now, you would all have to grieve. There was still the prospect that the casualties were not yet culminated.

The certifiable leader of the Saviors was currently tormenting Rick using Carl. While that in itself was enough to sour your stomach, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from your archer.

Daryl had been dragged out of the back of a van, a dingy blanket wrapped around his bloody shoulders. With several friends between the two of you, you couldn’t make out the wound clearly. What you could see was the pallor that was growing more profound; the way his eyes fluttered and struggled to remain open.

His condition only worsened after his outburst.

Negan was taunting Rosita with a bat lathered in Abraham’s blood and brain matter. Daryl launched himself at the man and landed a solid punch. Your cries rang louder than anyone’s when the archer was taken down and his own crossbow was aimed at his head.

“Please, not him.” You pleaded, bowing your head when Negan approached you. His lip was still curled in distaste at Daryl’s actions but he seemed willing to entertain your demands.

“Well, well, well. Someone knows how to behave.” You waited for the bat to meet your chin but the leather-clad maniac curled a finger there instead, guiding you to look at him. “What’s your name, darlin’?”

“My—my name is Y/N.” You managed to stammer out between sobs.

“Is that right? Now, Y/N, mind tellin’ me why a pretty little creature like you would speak up for mangy macho man over there?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing out more tears, while he stroked a gloved finger down your jaw. You could hear Daryl’s struggles renew with threatening shouts becoming muffled when his face was pressed further into the dirt. You opened your eyes and fixed the man in front of you with the most supplicated gaze you could manage. “He’s my husband. Please, god, please don’t hurt him.”

“God? Well, sugar, I’ve been called a few things but never god.” The way he laughed made you cringe but you kept your watery eyes engaged. He continued to smile at you, a sly leer that made your stomach flip. “Dwight.” He called over his shoulder. “Get him back in line.”

“But—”

“Now, I know you weren’t about to question me.” Negan’s smile finally faltered. He patted your cheek and stood, twirling that damn bat with a flourish that was meant to sling around your friend’s blood.

You were able to drag your gaze away from it to watch Daryl be roughly deposited back in his former spot, panting and grunting with a pained grimace. You willed his eyes to find yours, and he obliged, but he looked down at his knees when you slowly shook your head.

“Now I already told you people—first one’s free, then—what’d I say?” Negan leaned back to add a certain brashness to the words. “I said I would shut that shit down. No exceptions.” There was a foreboding heaviness that settled in the air. You found yourself breathing harder, digging your fingers into the dirt. “Now, I don’t know what kinda lying assholes you’ve been dealing with but I’m a man of my word.” He smiled at Daryl, resulting in you baring your teeth like some feral beast ready to rip the man’s throat out to protect your mate. “First impressions are important. I need you to know me. So…back to it.”

You screamed when the bat came down on Glenn’s head.

Negan and his cronies had departed a while ago, but everyone was still sitting where they had been left. The air was pregnant with a cacophony of sobs while the birds continued to sing as nature awoke to a new day. Maggie was the first to move, Rick pleading with her to sit; to continue the journey to Hilltop. To Alexandria. Anywhere but where you were.

You began to stir from your own torpor, instinctively seeking out Daryl. He was sitting on his hip, one leg outstretched while he leaned onto his good hand. He was staring vacantly at the ground as he swayed on the spot.

“Daryl.” You whispered. Your voice didn’t want to cooperate but it made no difference. You were already crawling toward him. You didn’t dare trust your legs. “Daryl.” You tried again once you reached him. Your arms instantly encircled his neck of their own accord, holding him close. The feel of his warm breath hitting your neck in shallow puffs of air made your tears begin anew. He was still alive. They could have taken him from you but he was still alive. “Can you look at me?”

His head turned slowly, bleary eyes finding yours. You touched his cheek, finding it cold; his skin clammy. He said something so quietly that you didn’t catch it.

“What?”

“S’my fault.” He repeated, a tremble to his tone.

“It’s not.” You brushed his sweaty locks out of his face. He looked terrible. Pale with dark circles around his eyes; his lips colorless. His shirt was sticky with blood. “We need to get you to Hilltop. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” He didn’t fight you when you began to peel the fabric away from the wound. “It went clean through but it had to be close range. It made a mess.” The wound had clotted, thankfully, but he wasn’t out of the woods. He had already lost too much. There was the possibility of infection. “Rick, we need to go. Maggie and Daryl need medical attention.”

“I’m trying, Y/N.” The former sheriff was exasperated and rightfully so.

Daryl rested his head against your shoulder, trembling with the effort to hold back his tears. Your arms encircled him while you stroked his hair and whispered reassurances. “Just take it easy. I’ve got you.” You looked up as Rick kneeled beside you, his eyes bloodshot and face still wet. “Maggie?”

“Sasha’s gonna take care of her. Keep her safe.” He rested a hand on Daryl’s knee and squeezed. The archer didn’t stir. “How’s he doin’?”

“We’re all in some form of shock right now but he’s in medical shock. We need to get him to Hilltop. Bastards let him sit and bleed.” You hissed, rubbing circles on Daryl’s back.

“You told Negan Daryl was your husband.”

You shrugged. “He might as well be. I just wanted to give him something. Play the sympathy card.” You glanced over at Maggie, feeling your heart contract. “It worked.” You felt horrible about it, you couldn’t help it. Still, your partner was alive and breathing in your arms. Your relief outweighed your guilt.

“Let me get Aaron. We’ll get him loaded up.”

You felt Daryl growing heavier and heavier. “Hurry. Please hurry.” You pleaded, holding your archer tighter. Rick nodded and pushed himself up, calling for Aaron. “I’ve got you, Daryl. I’ve got you. Hang on for me. Okay? I need you to hold on.”

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sunnybunnyy2 · 6 months

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Father Knows Best

Daryl Dixon x platonic!reader

Negan Smith x daughter!reader

WORD COUNT: 4.2k

TIME: season 7

Warnings: imprisonment, swearing, mentions of Daryl’s abuse, mentions of savours, transpires in season seven, spoilers for season seven of the walking dead, possible typos and bad writing

CHAPTER 3 to the Dark Cell Series

Not much Daryl in this one, sadly, but he will be in it much more next chapter!

Series Masterlist Official Masterlist

This one came out way quicker than the second and I’m sorry for that, but I am beginning to get into a regular posting times! So here it is!!

Your eyes were forced open when you heard the loud pounding of a fist consistently colliding against your door.

You let out a groan as your senses began to kick in, the once blackness that you were seeing behind your eyelids was replaced with the bright light that shined through the window that was meant to be covered by your curtain but you had been growing even more tired since your visits with Daryl.

It had made sense. Normally you would be asleep before the second night shift, so around 11 pm, but now you couldn't fall asleep until around 3 am, sometimes even 4.

That paired with the times that you had to wake up each morning had given you a maximum of four hours a night. Then you had to work all day and repeat the cycle again and again.

You couldn't risk falling asleep before you met Daryl, knowing that he would starve that night, and that thought alone kept your mind racing all day.

You constantly wondered how he was doing at the hands of your father. You wondered if he was being beaten, even if the old bruises on his face had started to fade you knew it wasn't long until they would reappear again.

You wondered what else Dwight was forcing him to do. You couldn't really put anything past him.

You used to admire how kind he was to others and how kindly he would treat his wife, Sherry, and her sister, Tina. But ever since Tina had been killed when they had escaped the sanctuary over a month ago and he had faced the wrath of her father, he hadn't been the same.

You knew it was because of his wife. Sherry had offered to become your father's wife to spare Dwight's life.

You didn't agree with your father having multiple wives especially so soon after your mother's death. It had been just over two years and he was pretending she didn't exist. He was coercing women into being his wife, in hopes of filling the dark that was left after your mother had taken her own life.

You could see how their presence in his life wasn't providing in the way he had hoped it would. You could see it in his eyes.

He was miserable. So he was bringing pain onto other people to make himself feel better. You didn't agree with his ways of coping but it's not like you could change his mind. He was a grown man and could certainly make his own choices.

He knew where you stood and what he chose to do with that was up to him, you supposed. He knew you weren't a fan of his 'marital' status so he kept it as far away from you as possible. Making sure that he never showed affection to them around you, making sure they stayed out of your way. But that wasn't the issue. You did like his wives, they were kind to you. Always making sure you were okay. Never talking about your father around you.

You had felt like his wives were a majority of your closest friends. When you pushed back the fact that they were sleeping with your father.

You tugged the sheets off of your body roughly as you jumped to your feet after realizing that the knocking wasn't getting any quieter.

You pulled your shirt down from where it had been yanked up in your sleep from your turning as you walked towards the door before jerking it open, causing the knocker to stumble slightly as they fell forward, making it clear that they were leaning against the door as they waited for a response.

"Jesus," she spoke your name as she caught herself from falling to the hard ground. "Your dad wants you. Said you had something you wanted to talk to him about." Laura informed you as she looked at you with a blank face but you knew her facial features well enough from the two years you had known her to tell that she was confused about what you had to talk to your father about. You had always confided in her about the way you felt about your father.

The disappointment and frustration but also about how you missed the old times between your family. About how you missed your old father and how you missed the comfort your mother had brought you before she died.

She had also spoken about how she missed her parents as well and even though her situation wasn't remotely the same, she still understood what it felt like to be a younger girl who just wanted her parent's love and affection.

"Yeah, yeah...um where is he?" You asked as you ran a hand through your hair in an attempt to smooth out some of the tangles.

"In his room. You better get ready, he ain't got all day." Laura sent a nod your way before sending you a half smile, clearly as tired as you as she was sent to do more work around the sanctuary. She never seemed to have time to rest. She was constantly either at Negan's aid or on watch somewhere around the sanctuary.

"Sir, yes sir." You saluted.

"You wish I was a sir?" She asked with raised eyebrows.

"Nah, you're just fine to look at now." You smiled slyly.

"Jesus, you're just like your father." She shook her head with a smirk.

"Damn, Laura. You wound me. Seriously that was so hurtful." You half-joked as you wiped away imaginary tears as you turned your head away from her.

"I take that back, you're way better." She shrugged as she spoke the truth that everyone at the sanctuary thought. Though you had always assumed some of the saviours had befriended you because of Negan wasn't entirely true. Sure some did in hopes of earning extra points for themselves and their families, but most just genuinely thought that you were one of the good ones. That you could possibly be able to persuade your father to change his ways.

"Alright. I forgive you, Laur. Even if you started my day off with a fucking headache." You spoke as you rubbed your temple, your words earning a very 'unladylike' snort from Laura as she started to back away from your room and down the hallway.

"My pleasure, Miss. Smith." She saluted before she turned around and quickened her pace to her shift which she was surely late from, leaving you to stare at the hallway wall as you mentally prepared yourself for the conversation you were about to have with your father, knowing it could go two ways. Well, which was the unlikely scenario or, Awful which you were leaning towards.

And that's how you ended up here. Sat at the table with your father as he settled in his seat after having poured himself a small glass of bourbon.

You watched as Potter, a worker in the sanctuary, placed two plates of eggs, home fries and some ham on top of the table for you two. You sent a smile his way as he nodded at you and your father before turning to make his exit, but your father's voice stopped him.

"Oh, Mr. Potter..." Your father spoke in a sing-song voice as tapped his fork on the table.

"Yes, Negan?" He asked as he turned back to the pair of you. A trail of sweat hastily coming down his brow, as his anxious eyes flicked between you and your father in hopes of getting a read on your body language.

"I think you forgot something." He pointed to his empty cup of water before snapping his fingers as if the second after he spoke lasted an hour. "Today." He rolled his eyes as the man rushed over to pick up the pitcher of water and pour it into his cup.

"Would you like some as well, ?" He spoke your name as he turned to look at you. Your father's glass now filled with ice water.

"Of course, she wants some. What do you think, she wants to eat your dry ass food without having something to wash it down with." Your father let out a laugh as if it was the funniest thing in the world all while glaring the poor man down, who was practically shaking in his boots.

"No thank you, Potter." You managed to smile softly at him as if to calm him. Your body lowered down slightly as your body inadvertent shrank into yourself in embarrassment at how your father was treating the kind man.

Your demeanour didn't seem to put the man at ease as he still looked as though he was about to stroke out, which apparently was hilarious to your father as he let out a booming chuckle from deep in his throat, his rough and deep voice spoke from behind his pearly white teeth.

"Jesus, man. I'm just joking. It's just a jokey, joke. Holy fuck," he spoke your name, "did you see his fucking face? He looked like he was going to piss his pants." He laughed before looking at the floor as though he was looking to see if the older man had done just that.

"That will be all, Potter. Thank you." You looked away from your father to face the middle-aged man before nodding to the door, not quite able to hide your anger well, causing him to look to Negan for permission.

Your father watched you with amusement glimmering in his big brown eyes, clearly finding your annoyance entertaining, before he nodded, still looking at you as he spoke. "Do you need her to tell you again? Leave. Now." Without wasting a second he scurried out of the room, probably to go cry in the corner somewhere. Your father seemed to always have that effect on people.

"Did you really have to scare him away? I was gonna get him to cut up my meat." He laughed.

"You're a grown-ass man. I think you can do it yourself just fine." You narrowed your eyes at him, watching as his eyes widened slightly before they were amused again, a small laugh leaving his lips.

"You really are my kid, ain't ya."

You guys sat in silence for a minute. You glaring at him and him trying to hide the merriment in his eyes.

"If you've got something to say, baby, just spit it out." He said as he crossed his arms while leaning back in his seat, eyes studying your face.

"What is wrong with you?" You asked with anger clear in your voice as you shook your head.

"Well, sweetheart, I have a lot of things wrong with me so you're gonna have to be more specific."

"You know what I'm talking about, Dad. That. How you treat people." You scoffed at his attempt at humour, normally you would laugh at his stupid attempts at making you laugh but now, when he humiliated people for a good laugh, your blood would quite literally boil in your skin.

"I was just having a little fun. He doesn't mind." He dismissed as he laughed, shaking his head before he began using the fork he was still gripping to take a substantial bite of his over-easy eggs.

"It's not a 'little fun', Dad. You scared him half to death. Does it not make you feel bad when you treat people like shit?" You shook your head in disbelief.

"No, it doesn't. I'm in charge. Im not treating anyone like shit here. Do you see all that I do for these people? What I provide for them." His face grew annoyed at your words.

"Yeah, Dad. I do. But you can help keep these people safe without treating them like shit. You don't need to make them fear you to keep them sa-" He cut you off before you could finish your sentence but you could tell by his tone that you got your point across.

"They need to fear me to stay in line. That's what I do. I keep them in line. How else do you think we're still standing? If I become buddy, buddy with them they'll think they can get away with shit they just can't get away with."

"You can be a decent person and still have loyal followers. I mean, shit, how do you think half the groups still alive are operating?" You tried to mile your tone down as you began cutting up your ham.

"You mean the groups we're gonna take over? They won't be operating like that for long." He shook his head in dismissal before wiping away the yellow egg yolk that had dropped into his pink lips.

"But why can't you form alliances with other groups? Instead of controlling them?" You tried to reason.

"Look, hunny. I love you, okay? But I don't tell you how to lead your little posey so don't fucking tell me how to lead mine." He said angrily before taking hold of his glass of bourbon and gulping down all of its contents.

"You do realize you just called you and your people pretentious, right? I do think it fits, though." You snorted as you took a small bite of your scrambled eggs.

"What did you want to talk to me about? I have things I need to get done." He rubbed a hand over his face in annoyance.

"Oh sorry, I didn't know having a conversation with your daughter was such a burden." You shook your head as you began to stand up but we're stopped when your father grabbed your arm.

You looked over expecting to see a look of anger on your father's face but sat back down when all you saw was remorse for his words that were obviously taken out of context but they had hurt you nonetheless, as that was what he hated the most. Hurting you.

"You know what I meant. I love talking to you, you know that, don't act like you don't. Tell me what you want to talk about, baby. Please." He pulled his and away and picked up his fork, signalling for you to speak.

"What is that community called?" You asked as you picked up the pitcher of water, not missing the look your father sent you that practically said, 'You should have just gotten Potter to do that' but you just brushed it off, knowing you were more than capable of pouring your own cup of water.

"Who am I? Fucking Professor X? You're going to have to be more-"

"That new community. The one you took a prisoner from." You specified, know that was his next word.

"How the hell do you know about that?" He asked with slight anger. He had tried to keep you as far away from his duties as much as he possibly could.

He had constantly restricted you from leaving the sanctuary in hopes of keeping you alive and blissfully unaware of his actions, knowing that he had shaped his men well enough that they knew they needed to die for you.

"Everyone knows about it. You don't exactly keep it under wraps. I can hear you boost about it from my room. Your voice travels." You studied him, wanting to make sure he wasn't going to try and keep something from you.

"Huh, so I've been told." He shrugged as he then began to study you, checking to see if he could notice any alternative motives. You could only hope he didn't.

"So?"

"Why do you wanna know anyway?" He questioned.

"I'm just curious. Sick of the gossip and rumours, just want to know what's going on. That's all." You attempted to play it off, hoping he didn't notice the slight quiver in your voice.

"I hate gossipers too. They seem to be everywhere, don't they." He replied as he squirted some ketchup onto his cooling grilled potatoes.

"Yeah, they do... so...?" You pressed, hoping he would stop beating around the bush and just reveal what you were wanting to know.

"Alexandria. It's a nice place but the people make it a fucking shit hole, their leader, Rick, is a joke. A fucking pussy if I've ever known one. Hell, I bet Potter could take him in a fight. Truly it's embarrassing." He ranted as he rolled his eyes, his fork scraping against his plate as if the sheer thought of Daryl's leader, Rick, had brought him so much rage that he had to take it out on the plate.

"So is there a lot of people there?" You asked, trying to sound casual.

"Two-hundred and thirty-four." He revealed causing her to tense.

"So we have more." It was a statement rather than a question.

"By a landslide, baby. We have five hundred and four through all of our outposts. In any way, we outrank them. You know what's hilarious? Their leader is so hellbent on killing me even though he knows my people could wipe his people out in a blink of an eye. Everything with that guy is a dick-measuring contest. But he should know by now that he's not gonna win in that department." He laughed once again forgetting that his daughter was sitting across from him.

Your eyes rolled as he once again found a way to boost about himself.

"Jesus, your daughter is right here!" You exclaimed as you rolled your eyes. Sometimes he was such a child, you thought. If your mother was here she would beat him with her shoe.

"Sorry, sorry. But hey, I want to show you something." He said as he wiped his mouth with a cotton napkin, before placing it on top of his now empty plate, the streaks of ketchup and yellow remained.

Your food on the other hand was still half full, but you knew your father would have somebody wrap it up for you to eat tomorrow as he knew that it took you at least an hour after waking up to be able to eat.

As you guys walked you caught sight of a man with long dark hair and a broad frame hunched over a mop. You didn't clue in until you saw Dwight roughly grab the man to make him continue his moping a little way ahead.

It was Daryl.

You didn't have much time to react before your father was speaking again, drawing their attention.

"Dwighty boy, what do we have here?" Your father said as he stopped beside Dwight, smirking down at Daryl as he watched him silently continue his task, his head angled downward.

"Just Daryl, doing what he's told," Dwight spoke with a slight smile while watching Daryl.

Your father let out a booming laugh and you could see Daryl pause his movements for a moment having to mentally restrain himself from physically pouncing on him.

You knew if he were to break loose you couldn't really blame him. Your father had put him through hell, but that's what he was. Your father. You couldn't let anything thing happen to him, no matter how much you understood how he was feeling.

"You missed a spot." Your father said as he watched the slightly shorter man conceal his anger with delight, clearly enjoying the inner battle that was going on inside of him. Your father kept his eyes on Daryl as he tipped his bourbon bottle on the floor, the dark liquor mashed with the newly clean floor. The half-drunken bottle now sized down a noticeable amount, he laughed again before he shoved the bottle into Dwight's chest. "Here, buddy. You deserve it." Your father tore his eyes away from Daryl before looking up at you, noticing the beyond-dirty look you were sending his way.

"Thanks, boss." Dwight nodded as he clutched the bottle.

"Get back to work, you mutt." Your father smiled at Daryl but you could tell it was forced as he roughly patted his shoulder in a condescending way before making his way back over to you, sensing your unease about what he was doing.

He nodded at you to follow him before he began to stroll back down the hallway. You followed but your eyes were still trained on Daryl.

Your heart pounded in your chest when he turned his head slightly, watching Negan go before his eyes found you.

They narrowed once he caught sight of you. You couldn't quite read the look that took over his emotionless face but you knew he didn't feel joy in seeing you with Negan.

You saw flashes of rage, confusion and a flash of fear?

Your eyes were locked on each other before Dwight harshly shoved Daryl back to his task which he complied with but at a slower pace, as if his mind was processing the fact that he had seen you outside of his cell with Negan of all people.

You waited a moment before you turned back around, and in that moment you saw Dwight studying the two of you in confusion.

You hurriedly turned forward to look at your father's back as you turned the corner finally making your way into the kitchen. The one you had found yourself in more often than ever.

"Ta-da," your father said in an overdramatic voice, a wide smile on his face as he waved a hand towards a big a machine that was shaking as it operated, the small, shiny window was wet with condensation.

"Holy-shit! Is that what I think it is?" You exclaimed in an excited tone as you practically hopped over to the machine in pure astonishment.

"Well, I sure as shit hope I didn't have seven of my men working themselves into the ground carrying this piece of shit back here all for it not to be the fucking ice cream machine that I've been askin' for, for a fuckin' year?" He spoke as you leaned back slightly as if to amplify his words.

You let out a yell of excitement as you ran into your father's arms, his arms wrapping around your upper back as you tucked your head into his chest. You could feel his smile as he rested his forehead on top of your scalp.

It was moments like these that you missed. The pure moments of a father and daughter showing care for one another. Sure you were still angry with him for what he did to Daryl just minutes ago and for all the bad he was doing, but you couldn't spoil this moment.

The moment that your inner child craved to have.

The moment you were robbed of one too many times.

You wondered if the sadness could be shown in your eyes. The longing for the love of your parents.

You knew that Laura could see it. Just as you could see your sadness as well. It was like an understanding for the two of you. You both didn't get to experience much love from your parents, her from way before the outbreak and you, after.

You knew that your mother wasn't at fault for not being there for you. You knew that if she could be here, she would. That's just who she was. She would never miss any of your important achievements and even your minor ones, she always made sure to show up, no matter how much shit she would get at work. She would take all the yelling from her boss just to see your smile when you noticed she was there.

Your father tried his hardest to be there but most of the time something else was always more important. You were always left having to deal with his half-ass excuses as to why he couldn't show up; only to find out that he was too busy fucking your godmother aka your mother's best friend.

You weren't sure how your mother could forgive him after all the stress he had caused her in the early stages of her cancer, but you knew it was most likely because of how much she loved him.

You had never quite seen someone treat their significant other as well as your father did when he found out about your mother's diagnosis.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You chanted pulling away from your father to look at the grey and blue machine again causing your father to laugh at you, even though he was feeling elated at the fact that you had enjoyed his little present.

"So, you want to take it for a spin?" Negan asked with a grin, knowing that he was gonna get a taste of the treat that he had also been craving.

"Do Andie and Ben end up together in 'How to lose a guy in 10 days?' " You asked with a raised eyebrow, a smile on your face.

"Uh, I don't know, do they?" He asked in confusion, not quite realizing the reference.

"Yes!" You exclaimed before rushing to the ice cream machine, your father hot on your tail.

TAG LIST: @cult-of-norman @book-place @ilovespiderpeople @kazunish @mysouleaten @murdadixon

Message me or comment if you would like to be added to the tag list!!

#the walking dead x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon x platonic!reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #negan smith x daughter!reader #dark cell series #dark cell masterlist

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 6 months

Text

Warnings: implied assault and sexual assault (no super detailed description, but this drabble references some traumatizing shit—please read with care), coercive control, frightening scenarios and imagery, Protective!Negan

You were already trembling before you stepped across the threshold and the sight of Negan and his bat did nothing to ease your panic.

"Dwight, um, said y—you wanted to see me?" you managed to squeak out.

Negan finished oiling Lucille and looked up at you. His expression was serious and you marked the lack of the usual cocky smirk with another electric jolt of panic. He eyed you carefully, standing and letting his hazel eyes linger over every bit of you. The bruise on the side of your face didn't go unnoticed, nor did the cut by your eyebrow. You gulped nervously. "Mopping? Is that the shit they've got you doing for points right now?" he asked, gesturing to the mop in your hand.

You only nodded and avoided his gaze. What the fuck was happening? Why were you here?

"For fuck's sake, you are worth way more than that. I really wish you'd take me up on my proposal," he said, almost vaguely, pacing toward you. He seemed to realize you were shaking and his brow furrowed. "Oh, fuck me. You probably think I'm about to do something horrible to you, don't you? Relax, doll. You aren't in trouble. Quite the opposite. Everybody always thinks being asked to come see the big bad wolf is a death sentence. Admittedly, nine times out of ten, they're right. But not you." Negan watched your expression muddy with confusion. "I heard something," he said, scratching at his beard thoughtfully, "from some of my men. And if it's true something needs to be fucking done about it."

You were still staring down at the floor and his finger curled under your chin and gently tilted it until you met his eyes again. "There we are," he said softly. "You've got beautiful eyes, doll. Don't hide those babies from anybody, especially not me." His finger left its place under your chin, but you held his gaze. "You want to tell me what happened two days ago out back?"

Your stomach dropped. "N—nothing. Nothing happened." Even as you answered, you could feel the way that man had grabbed you and pinned you against the fence with his body as you walked back from dropping a load of trash into the dumpster. You could feel his roaming hands and hear his careless laugh echoing in your head as you begged him to stop, as you tried to resist. The growls of walkers on the other side of the fence had slowly grown louder; danger behind you and danger in front. Just as their grasping fingers would almost have you, that man, the soldier, would rip you away and slam you back again further along the fence. You'd disconnected yourself from what had happened then—disassociated. If you hadn't, you would have thrown your body to the infected yourself.

"Really?" Negan's eyes searched yours. "Because you're shaking again," he said softly, his gaze darkening. "How did you get that bruise?" You didn't answer. "Listen to me—if what I heard happened, did happen, then somebody needs to fucking pay for it."

You opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn't get any of the words out for a long moment. Part of you wanted him to pay. Part of you wanted to watch Negan cave in his fucking head with his bat. Part of you had already imagined it. But the rest of you (despite your situation and despite this world) wasn't cruel, wasn't cold, and perhaps, stupidly even, didn't want the man to die that way for what he'd done. Pay? Yes. But die viciously in pure terror and guaranteed agony? No... maybe you were soft. Probably you were soft. "I don't know what you heard, I'm sorry. But—" you shook your head. "Nothing happened. I don't know what you're talking about."

But Negan wasn't buying it and he sighed heavily. "Please don't lie to me, doll. Because I'm pretty sure I already know exactly what the fuck happened. I just need confirmation from you before I deal out some violent justice." He lowered his voice to a near whisper. "What did he do to you? You don't even sound like you anymore."

Your wide eyes flooded suddenly with tears and you felt your body revolt against the lie you were trying to maintain. The best you could do was to not crumple to the floor and not sob aloud.

"Ah, shit," Negan swore. You were shocked when he pulled you in against him the next moment, pressing you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you. "It's alright. It'll be alright. I'll take care of it. He's a fucking dead man walking..." You felt his hand smoothing over your hair, tucking you nearly into the crook of his neck and marveled at how strange it was to be offered comfort and safety by this man, who so often haunted your dreams. "Fuck, I'm so sorry. He's a fucking dead man." His teeth clenched and the muscle in his jaw twitched. The only thing left was to devise the man's brutal end. "You're done working for a while," Negan said, his voice strangely soft again. "Come with me and I'll get you settled safe up here for a while... Don't worry about a damn thing."

Prompt: "What did he do to you? You don't sound like you anymore."

#negan smith #protective!negan #negan smith x reader #era: the sanctuary

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whateverisbeautiful · 3 months

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♥️ Ranking Richonne

#25: A Few More Days (S7E12)

Say Yes is just rich with Richonne goodness at every turn, beginning early with the opening moments of the ep as well as in their final moments in the ep, which are tied here on my list. Both scenes highlight how much Rick and Michonne value the days they have with each other. And to kick off this love letter episode, I love that we get a moment of Rick and Michonne proving yet again that them + vehicles = gold...

So after a perfect and steamy montage establishing they’ve been having the time of their lives on this run and a sweet conversation about why they’re smiling, we see them in the van eating saviors' pretzels. And I’ve always loved the inclusion of pretzels in this scene for the symbolism in contrast to Dwight and Sherry. It’s a subtle way to indicate that Rick and Michonne are the couple who are going to stay together through thick and thin.

I like Michonne saying they have "good taste in pretzels" like it’s the singular good quality about the Saviors lol. And then I love Rick saying "and batteries" as one of the first ways slick Rick will indicate he wants to stay out longer. And I get his logic - with the walkie working they can stay aware of what’s going on back home while still enjoying this wonderful honeymoon. I was fully on board with Rick’s thinking lol.

Watching it back, I love the ever-so-subtle groan Rick gives when Michonne says they’re gonna need to get back. He is not ready to leave this blissful state he’s in with her and I’m beyond here for it.

Also, I swear if watching all these Richonne scenes back was a try-not-to-smile challenge I would lose horrendously. I can’t not smile. It’s just all so precious every time they’re together, and this is genuinely me during the entirety of their every scene lol...

And then I just adore the way Michonne notices Rick’s quiet reaction and says his name. She knows her husband, y’all. She knows his silence means he doesn’t want to go home yet.

Rick says “a day and a half more, today and tomorrow.” And truly so much of what I love about this scene and Say Yes in general is that it’s one of the very rare moments where Rick gets to voice something he really wants personally. This isn’t about wanting to keep finding guns. He’s having the time of his life with the love of his life, and he wants to enjoy this as long as he can.

Michonne says they can come back again because, trust, she wants this alone time with Rick too, she just wants to eliminate the Negan threat so their next trip doesn’t have that cloud over it.

I love the way Rick says “just a little more” and looks over at her with his subtle eyebrow raised. He’s the most refreshed he’s looked all season and so happy and in love, and it’s great to see.

Michonne reassuringly says, “We’re okay. We don’t have to find them right now,” and I like how this is where Rick just outright confirms that extending this run is not about finding guns. It’s about what he will later reveal to be what he wants most - “the two of us” - cuz then he lightheartedly responds “yeah I know” lol.

(Side note: I'm just thinking about how before this love letter 7.12 ep there was the iconic 3.12 Clear ep. And 3.12 also began with the two in the car - however back then Michonne was driving in silence and Rick was thinking they’ll part ways after the Governor fight. How far we’ve come with them that now in 7.12 Rick and Michonne are in this car fully in love on a honeymoon run and wanting all the time in the world with each other. 🥰🙌🏾)

Rick says, “Just a little more okay?” while just eating some pretzels all content. And the delivery of the 'okay?' at the end is so freaking cute. 😋 Andy is so good at playing all shades of Rick, especially a Rick in love.

And then there’s this little silent moment where Rick looks down and then looks over at her with a look that says he knows Michonne wants this time too and that they want to be out here for more than just business reasons.

I love that Rick is always so good at making sure he gives the two of them time together to just put plans and agendas aside and enjoy being with each other. This is different than s1 Rick who was always on the go. He knows how valuable what he has with Michonne is and he cherishes every moment he has with her. Man of the year every year, ijs.

And then Danai “Always Perfectly Delivers The Line, Even If It's Just One Word” Gurira says "okay" in a way that just communicates so much. The way Michonne looks at him with so much care in this moment before softly saying okay. She knows that while Rick is seeming casual rn, this is also something he really wants and even needs more than he’s letting on, which he’ll reveal when he shares how much has been weighing on him later in the ep. And I think in this moment she knows she really needs this time with the love of her life too.

Also it’s sweet how all Rick had to say was just “a little more, okay?” and Michonne was in full agreement. They both can so effortlessly get the other on board with them. 😋 So she says this heartfelt okay and then Rick is just in his glowy happy era responding with such a pleased “okay” while looking at her so clearly in love.

The way they look at each other and smile with a little laugh upon agreeing to keep this honeymoon going is just perfection. 😍 I love that they both know they are going to stay out here not just as leaders and fighters but as lovers too, as they happily agree to bask in their Richonne bubble a bit longer.

This joy and alone time is what they deserve, and I love how this scene sets the tone for the rest of their honeymoon ep. It let you know that Rick and Michonne's love and desire for each other was going to be central, and I'm forever here for it.

And then I gotta attach another “few more days” moment at the end of the ep to this ranking because it really does connect. 👌🏽

It’s at the end of Say Yes when Michonne approaches Rick after his irritating encounter with Jadis. Rick and Michonne both really do look so visibly rejuvenated from their honeymoon run. I was looking at both of them in this scene like...

And I love that seeing her man is upset, Michonne knows just how to uplift him.

The scene starts with Rick clearly frustrated after Jadis changed the deal and tried to demand the cat sculpture back. When that trash lady told Rick she wanted the cat back I was like...

Because see Rick is in the business of gifting Michonne, so Jadis and the junkyard had another thing coming if they thought he was giving his wife's cat sculpture back lol. He even retools the deal to let Jadis know she tried it, and then he has this lone moment looking annoyed just before Michonne approaches. And just the way she looks at him when she slowly enters the scene is already so sweet. 🥹

I love how she says, "You get a few more days before what happens next." Which as we know from their previous heart-to-heart means before the fight.

Let me tell you, this is a husband and wife. Like officially-married-after-that-7.12-proposal husband and wife. You just feel the spouse vibes radiating off them in this scene, and I’m here for it.

I love that when Michonne lovingly says this, it’s her knowing how much a 'few more days' is something Rick really wanted/still wants and something she now deeply understands the value of too. And sis always be knowing the perfect thing to say cuz Rick's mood is instantly boosted as he turns to face her, elated at the idea of a few more days spent like how they just spent it. 😊

And part of what was so special about Rick wanting to extend their trip throughout this ep is that it was truly just the two of them on that honeymoon run - it wasn't like real-world honeymoons where you're at least around other hotel guests or beachgoers or whatever - but Rick was like, 'even when you’re the literal only person I’m around for days, I still want more of that.' #DirectQuoteFromHisMind 🥰

It’s cute how Rick perks up as he asks, “A few more days?” I love how Michonne can always improve his mood and capture his full attention. I also love how close they’re standing to each other in this scene and the lighting — you know we love a well-lit Richonne scene. It’s great. 👏🏽

And that Richonne bubble has a strong magnetic field because it seems they just can’t help but be as close as possible when talking to each other here. Truly, at this moment, they feel like it's just the two of them around - but nope, they out here giving big 😍-energy publicly on some strangers' turf. I love it. 🙌🏾

Michonne has such a beautiful glow when she calmly and confidently assures Rick, “that’s right, we’ll find more, we’ll figure it out soon…in a few more days.” 🗣 She's a wife. And scenes like this show that loud and clear.

Also, what Rick and Michonne mean to each other is always so gorgeously depicted, even in just a look. my goodness. #blessed.

As a moot beautifully stated, Rick drinks her in whenever she's in front of him, and he does so here as he nods and takes her hand. I love that she can so instantly improve his mood and how we just watched them spend all this alone time together all episode, only for them to end the ep excited about the prospect of more time together.

And then the scene ends with them walking away hand in hand because one thing Richonne always finna do is hold hands, and I'm here for it. 🤗

This was a beautiful way to open and close the Richonne love letter ep. And so these two connected moments - starting with Rick wanting a few more days and ending with the two of them also really grateful for a few more days - were wonderful and had to get some recognition on this list. 😌

#richonne #top 30 #number 25 #rick x michonne #reveling in richonne #twd 7.12 #twd towl #the ones who live

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paintyoureyeswithavividmind · 9 months

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close to home | chapter forty five

plot: the reader deals with the aftermath of her attack, Negan shows his cards to the reader, and Carl shows up at the Sanctuary

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 2,879 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd A/N: thank you for reading!!! I've gotten so many sweet replies and messages lately and they mean the absolute world to me! I truly love and thank you all for showing this story love. I hope you're all loving it as much as I've loved writing it!!! 🖤

The next day, you didn’t leave your room. Sherry and Frankie brought you food and tried to coax you out. But all you could do was cry and lucidly beg them to get Daryl; they left you alone. You spent the day watching shadows cross the floor and staring at the ceiling as thoughts danced around you.

You pictured Glenn and Abraham, and then you cried for them. Then you wondered desperately how Maggie was doing, and the baby and you cried for her. You cried for Rick and Michonne, for Rosita, and Carl and Tora. You wanted to go home more than anything.

Sherry and Frankie visited you before dinner, bringing you a bag with a few books. “I thought you might like these; they’re from the library. You can go anytime you want and take whatever you want.” Sherry told you as she sat down.

Frankie approached you on the bed and sat beside you, sweeping back your hair. “Hey, sweetie,” She said sadly, “How are you holding up?”

You glanced at her and nodded slowly, “I’m okay.”

“Your hair is getting so long. Do you want me to give it a cut?” She offered.

You nodded because of her generosity and because you actually did like her, and she excused herself to find her hair-cutting tools.

While she was gone, you sat up and looked at Sherry. She was leaning forward on her knees and looked more than just preoccupied with a few thoughts.

“Sherry?” You asked her, waiting to get her attention. “Why do you care about me so much? It doesn’t matter to you if I live or die,”

She looked at you for a long minute before coming over to you. “I debated on telling you this… I couldn’t stand the thought of you hating me. The other wives don’t know, but I…” She breathed out.

“What?”

“Dwight and I tried to escape with my sister a while back. This was before I married Negan. We met Daryl on the road. Did he tell you about it?”

“Vaguely…”

Sherry nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear. “We thought he was one of the saviors, so we kept him hostage. But he was able to take off, and you see, Tina, my sister, was diabetic. We couldn’t afford her medications. So we had stolen them, and the saviors were after us. And I guess Daryl saw the medicine because he came back. And he helped us when Tina was bit.”

You weren’t sure what to say, so you stayed quiet and let her speak.

“We stole his bike and the crossbow and went back to Negan. I wanted to run but Dwight he… he wanted to protect me. Negan was going to kill him, but I offered to marry him instead. And now Daryl’s here anyway, after what we did…” Sherry started to cry.

“And I just feel so guilty. And when I found out about you and Daryl, how Dwight said you two must’ve been an item or something, I just had to protect you. I had to help you. I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” She cried.

You moved from your spot and went to her, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. It made sense now why she tried to help you so much. And why she seemed to be intent on protecting you. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” You tried to soothe her.

“It’s not okay, but I’m trying to amend what I’ve done.” Sherry looked at you. “I know you’ve only been here a week, but I hope you know you can trust me. What I owe to Daryl, I can never repay him. But I can help you.”

You nodded and gave her a hug. You knew what she did wasn’t okay, but she was trying to make amends. And she helped you; she probably saved your life, even if it wasn’t a life you wanted anymore. And regardless of what she’s done, you couldn’t find it in your heart to hate her. The two of you were going through the exact situation.

“How do you stand it? What Negan did to him…” You asked her when you pulled away. “Every time I see Daryl, I want to scream. I can’t imagine what they’re doing to him, what they’ve done.”

“I don’t stand it. I drink, I smoke, I do anything to try and forget. But Dwight’s alive and one of Negan’s top men. What else can we do? We tried running before…”

“We can do it again, together,” You said. “We can get them and go.”

“Where, (Y/N)?” She asked. “There’s nowhere to go. We have shelter here; we’re safe here. We have food and running water, and electricity. You can’t go back to Alexandria, you know that. Negan will spend every resource he can looking for us. Especially you and me. And you have people at Alexandria he'll take it out on, too.”

You deflated as you realized she was right.

“I…”

“I know you want to be with Daryl. But he’s alive," Sherry stressed. “Let’s just… let’s just think about this. It would take a lot of work to get out.”

Just then, the door opened, and Frankie walked in. “Amber needs to talk to you, Sher.”

Sherry squeezed your arm as you both stood, and she bid goodbye. Frankie smiled at you, obviously pleased you were up and out of bed.

“I brought the scissors; let’s give you a cut!”

***

The next day, you were in the wives' room, trying to control yourself. The mess from two days ago had been cleaned up, and you had to keep telling yourself that nothing happened, and that you were being silly for acting this way. What Sherry said was right; as of now, you were safe. Everyone you loved wasn’t, but you were safe. And you could figure everything else out.

You were absent-mindedly listening to Tanya and Frankie discuss a book they’d been reading when the door opened, and you heard a familiar bell. Your stomach clenched as you watched Tora run into the room, looking scared and on edge.

“Tora!” You exclaimed, dropping down to the floor. She meowed profusely as she ran over to you, and you scooped her up in your arms. She was immediately purring and rubbing her face against yours as you cried.

“Oh my God,” Frankie laughed as she approached you. “A cat? How?”

You laughed through your tears. “This is Tora. She’s been with me since before.” You cried, trying to control yourself.

Another presence made himself known, and you looked up at Negan, who was leaning against the doorframe. He had a smile on his face, a genuine one, and he walked over.

“A little birdie in Alexandria told me that the cat was yours,” Negan said, “I’d like to say I’m surprised, but I’m really not.” Negan laughed, giving Tora a rub on the head.

“I…” You didn’t have any words.

“I sent out a group to get some stuff for her since she won’t be able to go outside here.” Negan said, “But I thought it might make you feel more at home here, and I knew you all would just love her.”

There was a chorus of thank you’s, yours not included. But you maintained eye contact with Negan, and despite how much you hated it, he knew how much it meant to you.

Negan wished everyone goodnight before he left and shut the doors behind him. You let Tora go, and all the women started playing with her with whatever they could find. She was a little skeptical but warmed up quickly with all the attention.

You sat on the couch and watched, wiping away tears. Sherry sat down next to you and said softly. “He doesn’t do that for just everyone.” You looked at her with confusion. “We get whatever we want here. But he doesn’t do anything like that. I think you’re really special to him.”

“I don’t understand…” Your voice trailed off.

“Nobody does. That’s the problem with Negan. He’s a monster. I know it. You know it. But then there are times…” Her voice trailed off. “He’ll give you more time after what happened. But he’ll be expecting sex soon. He won’t force it, but if…”

“If I know what’s good for me and Daryl, I have to do it.” You finished her sentence.

***

More days passed since Tora arrived at the sanctuary, and even if you didn’t want to admit it, it brought a little life back into you. The run group Negan sent out brought back everything you could possibly need, and Negan had the worker who cleaned all of the wives room’s add Tora’s new litter box to her list.

You felt awful about it, but Sherry told you to let it go. Still, you ensured the worker had something to eat and drink each time she came up. It became a little secret between the two of you.

Negan visited you every evening at the same time unless he was out. He would eat with you all and talk about his day while you and the other wives would listen and share conversations. He hadn’t made an attempt to have sex with you yet, but as each day passed, you knew it was coming.

You hadn’t seen Daryl much, aside from when he was out manning the fence--you could see him from the sitting room, where you watched him more often than not--or mopping up the floors while you walked around with Sherry. The two of you knew better than to speak to each other, but each time you made eye contact, you shared a nod. And it broke your heart every single time.

As usual, you were with the girls, reading a book with Tora on your lap. She’d adapted nicely to the new space, and the wives agreed to keep her on this floor for her safety. She loved the company of all the women and all the affection she got.

Amber was talking with Sherry about what happened with Mark, who you knew she had slept with. You’d learned from Sherry yesterday and dreaded the altercation with Negan.

You heard voices before the doors opened, and everyone tensed simultaneously.

“Ladies,” Negan greeted you all.

When you turned to look at the man, your mouth parted, and your heart dropped to your feet when you saw Carl standing there. The book fell from your grasp, and you stood, knocking Tora off. She didn’t seem to mind because she immediately ran up to him and started rubbing against his legs.

“Carl?” You said, slowly approaching him.

Negan looked at you with that smile again, and your skin crawled. “Baby, can you believe this kid? He hopped on my truck and then gunned down two of my men! The balls on this kid.”

Your fingers were trembling as you made eye contact with Carl. Then you turned to Negan, “Can I talk to him, please? Just for a second. I’ll do anything.” You knew exactly what he would cash in for the word anything.

Negan smiled and rubbed his jaw. “Anything. I sure do love that word on your lips. Go ahead, baby, just for you.”

You breathed a sigh of relief and walked up to Carl, cupping his cheeks. “Carl, what are you doing here? Are you stupid?” You asked quietly, knowing that everyone in the room was listening. “Are you okay? Why didn’t you just stay in Alexandria?”

Carl didn’t answer, but he looked at you with every emotion on his face. You knew he was playing tough, really tough, but you knew him.

You sighed again and leaned forward, not being able to help yourself. You kissed him quickly on the forehead, over his bandages, and then stepped back. You didn’t want to push your luck with Negan.

“My, my, my, and she’s good with kids,” Negan said, “Maybe I should think about expanding the family, then.”

Carl looked up at Negan then, and you saw the exact look you’ve seen in Rick so many times. “Don’t you dare," Carl said.

“Carl, it’s okay,” You rushed out before Negan could even speak. “It’s okay. I’m Negan’s wife now, so… so if that’s what he wants, that will happen. Don’t worry about anything. I’m alright. I’m perfect. I’m happy here.” You rambled on, trying desperately to make sure Negan didn’t do anything to the kid.

Negan smiled at you as more saviors entered the room, and Daryl appeared with them. Your lips trembled as you locked eyes with him, the closest you’ve been to him in days. And he had heard everything you just said.

But with one look in his eyes, you knew he didn’t believe you. He saw right through it, through you, like he always did.

A hand grabbed your arm, and you looked back at Negan. “Isn’t my new wife just perfect?” He asked nobody in particular before he leaned down and kissed you on your mouth.

You froze for a moment as your brain went wild. You didn’t know what to do. To pull away from him in front of everything would make him mad, and you knew who he’d take it out on. So you did the only thing you could think of that would keep everybody safe. You leaned in and kissed him back.

Negan smiled at you as he pulled away. “Oh, I’m gonna love this.” He said to you and then turned back to both Daryl and Carl. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot you guys were here. (Y/N), baby, be a dear and fetch me a drink.”

You clenched your fists and nodded, turning your back on them and walking to the minibar. You blinked away tears and swallowed the lump in your throat. The feeling of Negan’s facial hair still tickled you, and you wanted to take a long, hot shower to get rid of the feeling.

After making his favorite drink--one you’d learned to make perfectly the past few days--you brought it over to him as he talked quietly with Sherry. Then you went and sat down in your chair with trembling fingers and tried not to look at anyone. But you could feel Daryl’s gaze. You hoped and prayed he wouldn't do anything stupid. Not after what he saw.

After Negan and Sherry finished talking, and he went to Amber, you knew exactly what it was. You stood up and walked across the room to Sherry, who was making a drink.

“Mark?” You asked her. When she nodded, you poured yourself a drink and took a shot. When you turned back and looked at Negan talking to her, then looked at Daryl and Carl, who were both staring at you. You slowly shook your head.

“Here, you’re gonna need one more for this,” Sherry told you. She handed you another drink, which had a bigger pour. But you didn’t question it and knocked it back.

***

An hour later, everyone was gathered in the main room of the compound. Sherry told you what was coming; you knew very well about the iron from conversations with her and the other wives. But you hadn’t seen it yet and felt like you would be sick.

When Negan finally showed up, you thanked the lord that Carl was with him, but your fingers twitched when you saw that he wasn’t wearing his bandages and looked shaken up. You felt like screaming and throwing something. And you felt hopeless. All you wanted was to be able to protect Carl, and you didn’t even know what Negan did upstairs.

Sherry grabbed your hand when Negan started to talk and walked down the stairs. To your right were Frankie and Amber, and the ladder was holding a scared and frightened Amber.

Daryl was with one of the other guards across the room, usually with him. With Negan’s attention elsewhere, you could show Daryl emotions you’d had to keep hidden. Your face softened, and you bit your lip and pressed your free hand over your heart. You hoped he knew what you were trying to say. That you were scared, and you were doing what you had to do, and that he was the only person in your heart.

You don’t know if your look conveyed it all or even a fraction of it. But then he nodded slightly and lifted his hand. It was brief, and he played it off like he was scratching his chest, but he laid his hand over his heart.

Tears filled your eyes, and you had to look down at the floor to smile. He knew. Of course, he knew; no one in the world knew you better than him.

A few minutes later, you watched as Negan pressed the hot iron to Mark’s face. You looked at Daryl and Carl and then at poor Amber, who was going through a pain that you knew too well. Seeing a loved one hurt. That thought made you tremble, and Sherry squeezed your hand.

After it was over, Negan took Carl away, and Sherry forced you to move on. You didn’t get a chance to look at Daryl as she pulled you away.

#daryl x y/n #daryl dixion x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #daryl twd #twd #daryl x you

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thewritersaddictions · 9 months

Text

Bases: Negan Smith- Chapter 1 Her

Pairing: Negan Smith x Fem!Reader

Pov: Negan

Warnings: boundaries push, touching, cocky comments, the walking dead, zombies, trigger warnings, almost dying, special treatment, the wives, jealousy, being saved; Simon mentioned a little bit, maybe Dwight too, and Negans wives. masturbation,

Summary: Negan meets you when you come to the sanctuary doors. Wary of you at first he takes to watching you, and boy does he get interested quickly.

A/n- @ firefly-graphics for dividers

WC- 3.2k

The Walking Dead Master List // The Wanderers Master List // Series Master List

Y/n tries to catch her breath, but she just can’t seem to. Everything around her is swaying with her every step. She feels the sun pour through the sky, and it just ends up beating her up as she walks in the middle of the road. Trees line each side, giving no shade for her overheating body. She walks until she hears the indicators of the walkers; the sound grows louder the more she wanders due North. She worries for a moment until she sees a tall building that probably used to be a factory before the world went to shit. Then the sound of cars, the sounds of people.

People! She doesn’t care if she doesn’t have enough energy to get to the gates; she’ll push through the hoarse voice from no water for at least the past few nights and days. She’ll push until someone picks her up from the searing hot cement underneath her. She manages to make it to the gate; her face is flush, and she ends up waving down what looks like a post guard. “Do you know where you are, Miss?” It’s a guy no older or younger than she is before Y/n can answer though she’s collapsing to the ground. She’s worn herself out before just making it.

There’s a knock at the door, which means some shit is happening that Simon or some other fucknut doesn’t know how to handle. The knock on the door is different, rushed, almost a worried knock. “Come in.” I don’t look up until the person starts to talk; like always, it’s Simon. “Boss, um, we’ve got a problem.” My brow arches as I stare at Simon with a deathly glare. “A problem?” It’s not really a question, and Simon knows it. He just nods, and we walk in steadfast with each other. Lucille sits over my left shoulder. People quickly advert their stare as we step outside in the blaring heat of the Georgia sun.

There’s a small, growing crowd around something rather intriguing. “Move outta the way, dingbats,” Simon shouts rather loudly in my ear as I look into the center of the growing crowd. “What’s this?” I ask one of the guards. His gun is slung around his back, the nose of the sniper pointing towards the ground. “I’m not sure, Duke over there said this girl waved and then collapsed outside the gates.” More intrigue. “Let me see.” The crowd moves, giving me a perfect view of the ‘girl’ lying on the hot ground. “You,” I say, pointing with the bat's end cap. The guy, ‘Duke’ visible, swallows, “She um… she was running towards the gate, and tried to wave at me, but before she could answer any of my questions, she just knocked out, hit the ground pretty hard too, Sir.” The guy says. I move Lucille making room for me to bend to my knees and get a more impersonal look at the ‘girl’ layin’ on the ground.

Her skin is red and peeling in some places on her face and shoulders. Her hair is out of her face. Her face looks almost hollow like she hadn’t had water in days, maybe weeks. But she’s wearing what looks like an excellent proper pair of boots and jeans, and the first thing I think of next is, “Did ja check for bites?” I ask the whole crowd, and the Duke guy answers again. “Already checked her out, nothing, no bites or anything, Sir.” He says; I motion for Simon to come over, “Why was this so fuckin’ important, huh Simon?” he glides a hand through his messy hair. “Cause I figured you want to say what happened to the girl.” Simon never really gave a shit, didn’t take orders to well, and somehow always managed to not fuck up but still fuck up my shit.

“Yeah, dumbass take her to the damn doc. What the hell you waiting on me to say that for.” I mutter to myself as I watch the two post guards pick her body up stiffly. Causing the both of them to alost tumble over. I roll my eyes at the action. “Simon.” I shove the bats handle into his hand. “You tow lacklys, get back to work i’ve got her.” The inner monologue tells me that I know it will always be me who has to take care of the dark shit, the bad shit, and the good shit. Nobody else. Simon close behind me, as the women lay limp in my arms.

She had yet to open her eyes as the cool air inside the sanctuary hit her cheeks, her arms, and any other exposed skin. She didn’t even rustle as I walked her limp body through the doorway. “Dr. Carson, you can stop whatever the fuck you’re doin’ now. Help this women here.” I set her down on the cot, her head falling back along with her hair into the shitty pillow provided in this makeshift ER. “What… What happened?” Dr. Carson wasn’t the village idiot by any means, but it would nice if for once I didn’t have to tell the damn idiot what happened and he could just go do his fucking job. “Carson, just do your fuckin’ job or I swear to the god that probably fucked off already I will make your postion available again.” He shook his head, and got to work. Simon handed Lucille back to me, as I took a seat in those uncomfortable waiting chairs.

“Looks like she has some burns some serious” Carson said looking over at me. An arch brow, and he was on the way to solving the whole damn thing, “Nothing a little bit of antibotic cream can’t fix. She’s also very dehydrated, so I’ll need to get her pumped with some fuilds before she can… before she’s well enough to talk with you Sir.” Carson mumbled out, I nodded my head and started to turn out of the room. “You said she needs fluids.” Carson nods his head, as he goes to get bandages wraps for her burns. “Bring her to my room, we should show our new guest the best care, right Carson?” He nodded with angst.

“Are you sure… Sir, do you think that’s the best course of action. We don’t even know where this fuckin’ lady is from” Simon as his ratty, trash talkin’ fucking mouth never shut the hell up sometimes. I turned quickly catching his normal leaned back attitude off guard. “I think you would know me by now Simon. It’s a game, it’s always a fuckin’ game.” Simon stood still for a moment, and then nodded.

An hour later there was a knock on my bedroom door. “It’s Dr. Carson with the Jane Doe.” He said through the door. I rolled my eyes, the clink of the gin bottle hitting the glass table rang my ears as I got up opening the door. This time two much larger guard held the Jane Doe on a cot. Less prone for her fall and get even more hurt. “You said you wanted her here sir?” Carson asked as if the first time I said wasn’t good enough for him. I look over at the Jane Doe. Her shoulder all the way down to her arms are covered in the white bandages. Her face isn’t though which is nice. “Come on in then.” I open the door wide enough for the large men to walk her in and place her on the couch adjacent of the bed. “I’ll get some fluids going in her and then I can come back in a few…” I cut him off, “No need doc, I’ve got it from that point. Don’t need someone in and out of my fuckin’ room every couple of hours.” He nods his head vigorously. I know what I’m doing, and there’s more I wanna know about this mystery Jane Doe.

“Well hello there sweetheart.” The women in front of me is opening her eyes. It took nearly two days to get to this point. For nearly two days I have extra patrol out making sure that nobody followed this young women here. No need to be gettin’ ambushed right now. Her eyes go wide and when she opens her mouth to talk nothing comes out. Her nails scrap at her throat. “You need something to drink?” I’m quick to get up and gather a glass of water for her. Her hands are clammy when they graze past mine to collect the cold cup of water. The needle in her arms ache I can tell just from the look on her face. “We’ll take that out later, but for now why don’t you not rush your recovery.” I said as soft as I can. She looks like someone just told her that the world was starting all over again.

She clears her throat, and for the first time I hear her voice. It’s angelic is a soft, fairy sort of way. “Where am I?” She ask looking around the room. “A settlement, the Sanctuary.” She looks over at me, beautiful eyes shining back at me. For the first time it’s odd to around a women who isn’t appalled by me, or faking it all together. She pure, and innocent in so many moldable ways. “I promise that i’ll be out of your hair before you even know that I was here.” She promises me, I humm. Then look over at her fluid drip, and the bandages on her body. “I was thinkin’ that you could stay here for a while. At least get yourself settled before you go back out in that hot Georgia sun.

“So Miss Jane Doe, do you got a name?” I ask her as my words sink into her head. She clears her throat again taking another large gulp of water to coat her throat. “My name is um…Y/n.” She says with a little smile. “And you wer travelin’ alone out there?” I ask her, “Yeah.” She says nodding, she looks far of into the distance staring up at one of the ceiling tiles. As if she’s remembering someone she’s lost. I clear my own throat bringing her attention back to me. “I’ve ask that the doc, keep you here in my room. I wouldn’t suggest that you go out right now. Dr. Carson and I agree that you’re a little too fragile for that eveiormnet right now.” I said coaxing her into a choice she had no say in. She nodded, “My pack?” She asks, “I almost forgot.” I reach behind the coch she’s laying on. “Thanks.” She says with a small smile, and once more our hands graze each others.

Hours later after a rather a surface level introduction with Y/n about where she came from, why she didn’t have anything other then a knife, and what the Sanctuary was about. There’s a soft knock on the door. It causes Y/n to shiver with anxiety. “It’s alright sweetheart, don’t worry about anyone trying to get ya.” “Can I come in, Negan?” I know that damn voice, Frankie. I boil over with anger and before I can get to the damn door Frankie is opening it. A sliky black dress drapped over her frame. I catch Y/n out of the corner of my eye; staring and watching the interaction between the two us. “Negan, I haven’t seen you in a few days…” Frankie stops short in her sentence. Scwoling at Y/n, as if she understands what the hell is going on either of them. “Frankie, go. I have a guest.” I say strongly grabbing her bicep and pushing her out of the room.

The slam of door makes Y/n shriek, and when i turn to look at her she’s got her head cocked. “Who was that?” She asks timidly. “A… um… it’s just Frankie.” I finally manage to mumble out. “When was the last time you had a good bed to lay down in?” I ask in deperate need to change the subject. I don’t know just yet how to explain the wives to her, but then again when have I ever felt the need to explain myself to anyone. I push the feeling away, bury it in my stomach. Deep down. She shifts swinging her legs to the edge of the couch. She’s got pretty long legs even from the thick jean material that hid them. “I’d say at least since the first or second month of this shit.” I huff a laugh out, “Well how about this sweetheart. I’m gonna take this IV out, and patch you all up so you can get a good nights rest.” “But what about…” I shake my head. “I’ll take the couch, it’s been a while since I’ve booted to the couch anyways.” I jokingly say.

Carson had left a few supplies here for me whenever Y/n was going to wke up so I could remove the IV, and bandage her up. As I do her skin is soft as least not where she’s been wrapped up with bandages. “So what was wrong with me?” She asks as she stares at my working hands. “You got a hell of a sunburn all up and down your shoulder and arms. Some antibiotic cream should fix ya up real quick.” I tell her, “And plus you were super fuckin’ dehydrated, what the hell were you doing running a fuckin’ marathon?” She giggles at my question as I tape down the gauze to make sure the blood doesn’t leak into anything.

“Do you have extra clothes in that pack of yours?” I ask Y/n, she looks down and dig around. A minutes passes, and another, “Look mary poppins I don’t think there’s anything else the damn bag.” I might be getting a little frastrated, “So I’d take that as a no.” She nods her head. I whip myself around. Shifting through draws and a small closet of my clothes. “For tonight you can borrow somethin’ of mine. Sweats, and a long t-shirt so your bandages don’t come off during the night, Sweethearts.” I say passing her the clothes. Y/n stares down at them, and she get a little shy, well a lot shy. Bitting and pulling on her bottom lip. “Bathroom is over here sweetheart.” I watch as she walks towards the bathroom, and then the door shuts.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask myself. Dragging my hands down my face. There’s a shuffle from behind the bathroom door. “All good in there?” I ask, willing my voice not to break. I feel like a high school kid all over again with a stupid high school crush. “Um…” her voice sounds so tiny behind the door. “I don’t think this is gonna work.” She says shyly through the door. I stand to open the door, but she does before I can manage it. My long sleeve is loose on her frame, and the sweats don’t even take on her hips, but I guess that’s alright since the long sleeve is so big on her it acts as a dress. “That’s all good doll, how about I help ya get to bed.” I say reaching out my hand for her to grab.

Yet again her hands are baby soft, like she’s never been outside a day in her life. No broken calluass, or rough patches. With our hand interlocked I walk her to the side of the bed. Moving the sheets back so she can easily get under the covers. She isn’t graceful about the plop down the bed. “A water bed!?” She asks, I actually laugh, “I wish sweetheart!” As Y/n shifts her legs to get under the covers and onto my side of the bed. I get a flash of her pink worn panties.

I have to swallow down the groan of sexual frautration, maybe I should have taken Frankies offer. Pushed her outside the door, and fucked her stupid mouth shut. I shake my head, and I watch as Y/n starts to get snuggled into the cool fabric. I don’t grab the other pillow fromthe bed, I just make my way towards the couch. Cleaning up the medial mess I made earlier. I lean back into the coch, closing my eyes and all I can see is the pink panites. The coarse hair that prickled to come through the fabtic.

My cock stirs to life in my tights blue jeans. I can’t see Y/n’s face due to the dim lights in the room, but her snores are a good alert that’s she fast asleep. I close my eyes again and the flash of her nipples through the old shirt of mine makes me swallow down a moan. A hard on from a girl I know nothing about, a fuckin high school kid. All I can think of is the pink pussy that lays behind the pink panties, the tits that would bounces as I fucked her raw. I unzip my jeans, and pop my hard cock from my boxers.

The tip is leaking pre-cum that I end up just using as lube. Pumping myself slowly at first until my eyes fall shut and all I can imagine is the sounds that Y/n would make when I fucked her up agaisnt the headboard. Or how good her pussy probably tasted. My cock is coated with my pre-cum, and so is my hand. The sounds are delicious, the sound of the squelching as the soft pad of my thumb over over the head of my cock and I end up just a pile of fuck, shits, and graons as I come all over my chest.

“Fuck.” My breath is ragged, I haven’t come that since I was much younger and a whole lot ballsier. I throw my shirt off my shoulder and wipe down my tummy, and chest. Discarding the ruined shirt to a pile of other thrown clothes.

Completed on: 08/10/23

Posted on: 08/12/23

Bases Tags- @clararangel @lanad3lrey-l0v3r @jdmsgorl @scarlett-widows-89 @idk1idk2idk @kaits-diary @whatsssss @daryldixonluvr @oceanablue @chelseypprimrose @freedomfighterlex @sageworld @ayeizzshayla @123avengersandmarvel @charlie19690 @sweetvixensstuff @lanceisrandom @redscreendarkwin @finalgirlmp3 @fullwattpadmusictree @harmonib @rainyzonkmakerlover @ge0rgzs @julimariett @amazingmaeve @kpoplover4life @definitelynotyagmur @rivernell @vanilla88 @alteredgalaxy @thatonefroggirl @kyleepsposts @max-505 @nhayoshii

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frenziedslashers · 1 year

Note

So I have read C'mere Honey bear about three times now 👉👈 and I am in love with the way that you write the big teddy bear. Do you think you could write something where Megan's S/O helped Dwight help the others to get Negan to stop? Maybe she knew Negan before he went rogue and she wanted him to be the man he once was. She still loves him and is only helping because she knows Rick won't kill him. Maybe before she gets caught she gets pregnant, though? It's Negans obviously, and she tells Rick and he allows her to stay in Alexandria to stay near Negan 👉👈 I just think it would be cute and I would love to read how you would portray how he would react to the news. (Female reader if that's okie 🥺 I love all of your TWD stuff so much!!)

Father of Mine;;

A/N: STOP THIS IS SO CUTE - thank you for the request anon and sorry if this is shitty. Hitting a writing block rn fr.

Pairing: Negan x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, Canon Typical Violence, swearing, Negan (He's a warning himself let's be fr), Negan makes jokes about sex because it's Negan. Lmk if I need to add more!

TWD MASTERLIST || REQUEST INFO

Negan wasn't always as evil as he was. You had once known a man that would fight to survive. One that would look for the light and still keep you and himself safe. Until one day that darkness seemed to consume him just as much as it consumed the earth. He was still in love with you, you knew it. He looked at you with those same adoring eyes, and he never once hurt you. He was just, different. He went from a man who would only fight for you. To one who now fought for hundreds. Keeping them scared while "protecting" them for his advantage.

You hated it, but you couldn't leave him. You still loved him just as much as he loved you. He was all that you had left, and you couldn't bare to let him go.

It wasn't until the whole Rick Grimes situation came around that you saw a light at the end of the grim and damp tunnel that you had been tracking through for the past years. You had found out it was Dwight who was helping him and helped the man in secret yourself. Giving him tips for Negans plans. If only in return Dwight would ask Rick to spare Negan. You couldn't live with yourself if you were the reason he got killed. He was your husband, and you loved him more than you cared to admit.

When Rick did finally end it all, you thanked him over and over. Tears rolled down your face when you realized the man had finally put an end to all of the violence that you had to endure. The violence that the love of your life had caused.

"Can I go with you? I swear, I just want to see him. He's my husband, I can't," you choked, and he nodded. "Yeah, you can come, you try anything though, and yer gone." Rick sneered at you and you nodded in understanding. Yet, you could tell the people around him didn't seem to agree as much.

You could care less what anyone else thought, though. You just needed to be near the man you fought so hard to save.

You hated what they did to him. You asked them to not hurt him, but you also knew if Rick hadn't done what he did. Then Negan wouldn't have gone back to Alexandria willingly. It was definitely a nice surprise for the previous leader when he woke up after being questioned by the gang to see you by his side. You were curled into a chair beside his bed, a book in your hands while you read and waited for his awakening.

"Whatcha readin' sugar?" He asked, his voice so fragile and hoarse. It made your chest clench while your eyes shot up to meet his.

"You're awake?" You had to ask in disbelief. Your lower lip quivered as you moved to hold his hands. "I thought you never would, I thought I might have lost you," you rambled, and he smiled despite the pain. "You're stuck with me," he croaked out, and you nodded with a soft sob.

His lips pulled down into a frown as he reached up to brush a few stray tears from your face. "Don't," he spoke, unable to continue. Wincing at the pain that shot through his neck when he spoke, you shook your head. "Don't talk, and I'll stop crying for you. Please, get rest, baby." You cooed, and he offered a weak smile. His eyes danced over yours as you leaned up to kiss his forehead with so much love.

"I love you, now get some rest. I'll be back to see you tomorrow, okay?" You told him with a smile and he did his best to smile back. His eyes watched you close when you moved down to press a gentle kiss on his lips.

God, the shit he'd do to have you hold him and just kiss him.

---

It wasn't only a month and Rick had your husband thrown in a cell. Locked away like he was the boogeyman. No light would shine upon him again besides what could bleed through the tiny window in his cell.

Sure, he did some regrettable things. You sure didn't agree with all of them, like killing Abraham and Glenn. That was uncalled for, but the people who claimed to be heroes weren't any better. So many innocent lives were taken. Women and children who couldn't defend themselves. Hell, a couple of your friends were murdered in cold blood, and anytime you saw Rick you had the urge to lunge. If it weren't for Negan still being alive, and the baby growing inside of you. You might have.

"You have an hour to talk to him. I will be right outside this door, if I suspect anything is happening, you're leaving." Michonne ordered, and you nodded, thanking the woman with a soft smile before slipping past the door.

His head shot up when he heard the door open and close. He was still weak, and everything hurt. He was still determined to meet you at the bars that separated you both. "Hey, beautiful," he chimed with that sweet grin that could manipulate you into doing about anything for him. A small smile of your own graced your lips. "Hey, handsome." His smile was even more than before just from hearing your words.

His hands were wrapped tight around the bars. His knuckles only grew whiter the closer you got to him. He swore being apart from you was worse than any punishment. He missed holding you at night. He missed seeing you most of the day. He missed you.

When you reached out and placed your fingers over his hand. His whole body seemed to slump forward. His forehead pressed against the bars of his cage while his eyes fell shut. "I never thought I'd see you again when they tossed me down here." He sighed, and you nodded while reaching through the bars to hold his face with a soft smile. "Well, they can't keep me away from you. I'm too mean. I'd start a fight if they kept me from seeing my husband," he only smiled more at that.

You were right, too. You had to be a little mean to keep up with Negan and the Saviors. It's what he loved so much about you. You were sweet as honey. But damn, could you be a bitch if you really wanted to be.

Your hand dropped from his face to his calloused fingers on the bar. Unwinding his fingers from the metal while pulling his large hand through it to link your fingers with his. "Plus, I got a surprise for you that I know you'll love," you winked, and his face lit up.

A thousand thoughts were running through his head. His mind was practically bubbling with excitement. "Is it sexual? I'm damn near about to bust just thinkin' about you sucking my dick through this cell." He joked with a wolfish grin and a low chuckle. His laugh grew more genuine when you swatted his chest with your other hand.

"Negan! Michonne is right out that door! She could take me out of here, you know?" He sighed, "I miss feeling you, though," he whined a little, and you rolled your eyes with an amused grin. "God, you're so immature sometimes." you snickered, and he only smiled. "Wouldn't want me any other way. Now would you?" You shook your head with a hum. He was right. He kept you entertained. You wouldn't trade his personality for the world.

He started shifting a little from foot to foot. The man grew anxious while waiting for you to tell him about this wonderful surprise. "So, if you aren't givin' me a piece, what's going on, sugar?" He wondered out loud.

His stomach felt like it was tearing itself apart when all you did was smile. Your eyes were wide and filled with emotions he couldn't quite place. His eyes dropped to your intertwined hands when you pulled them to your stomach. Placing his large hand over your belly. He was confused, to say the least. Then it all started coming together. Pieces of a puzzle that his brain was slowly fitting with one another. His eyes were floating back up to your own once he realized.

"You're gonna be a dad, Negan," He couldn't speak after you told him. His ears felt like they were filled with cotton. His eyes darted around the room while he experienced every emotion at once. He was thrilled. You and he talked about kids before all this. You both wanted a little cub to call your own, but he was locked away. What would become of a kid with a father locked behind bars?

He flinched when your hands held the side of his face. Your thumbs brushed away tears that he didn't even realize fell down the apples of his cheeks. "Negan," you cooed, and he could see the worry in your eyes. That look that told him you might be regretting even telling him. He didn't want you to feel that way, though. He was thankful that you told him. He needed you to know that.

"Honey, that's amazing," He told you, bearing his teeth with a wide grin, "Guess I was just hoping I'd be able to hold my kid, you know? And my super hot wife," even with the part he added at the end of his sentence you couldn't smile. You felt the same pain that he was feeling. If Rick had never shown up, he could be there throughout your pregnancy. He could hold your baby when it was born. Rick ripped away the joy of having a baby from you and Negan. In any other situation, you knew the man in front of you would be bouncing off the walls excited and telling everyone in a five-mile radius that he was going to be a daddy.

Now? Now he was standing in front of you with a ten-mile stare. His hand was still lovingly placed on your stomach, but you could tell he was scared.

"I've been talking with Michonne and Rick, Michonne doesn't like it, but Rick said if you behave right. He'd give you days to come out. You'll have to work to own your keep, but you could be with me and the baby," you assured, and you saw a sliver of hope in his eyes. His worries seemed to fade, and he seemed more excited than before. "I promise you, baby, I'll get on their good side and I will be there for you and that kid. I will hold my baby, you better believe it," he told you with a grin, and you let out a soft giggle when his hand on your stomach grabbed your waist to pull you closer to the cell. Careful to not hurt you while he did his best to kiss you through the metal bars.

"Can't wait until I get to hold you again," he sighed. You couldn't agree more.

---

It wasn't until the sixth month behind the walls of Alexandria that Negan was finally allowed time out of his cell with you. He was able to go to appointments with you and actually hold you. He felt like maybe his world was finally healing, and so did you.

"What do you think about the name Elizabeth for a girl and the name Aiden if it's a boy?" You raised your brow at the man who stood behind you. His chin rested on your shoulder while his hands rested on your stomach in the doctor's office.

"How about no," you shot him down. He scoffed, burying his face in the crook of your neck. A soft string of laughter fell from your lips at the way his facial hair tickled your neck.

Siddiq was quick to ruin the moment between the both of you. Clearing his throat to make himself known in the room. Negan didn't move, though. He never wanted to let go of you when he was released from his prison to come with you on these appointments. "Can you come lay on the bed? So we can get an ultrasound done?" He asked, and you nodded with an excited smile. "Yeah, Negan, come on, let go," you spoke, and he sighed. His hands reluctantly dropped from your stomach to watch as you made it over to the bed.

He took note of every change about you. How you seemed more plump and round. The way you had a slight waddle to your walk. The glow to your skin. Gosh. He couldn't be more grateful that he had you safe behind these walls. Even if he was locked behind bars most of the time. At least you were safe. Plus, you had a bed to sleep in. Even if it was cold and alone, it was a bed.

Negans hand squeezed yours. He sat beside you while you lay on the bed. His eyes were glued to that TV that would show him his future. The kid that would soon run his life. Change himself for the better - more than it already had.

He felt his heart squeeze in his chest. His hand tensed around yours when you both saw the baby on the screen. He had no words to express how he felt. His eyes were wide in awe. He just couldn't believe it. "I hope they have your smile," you told Negan, and he looked at you with a loving stare. A tender smile tugged at his lips. "I hope they have your eyes," he added. You both had never felt more in love with each other. If it weren't for Saddiq clearing his throat again. Negan probably would have been doing a lot more than just undressing you with his eyes.

"Well, they look healthy. I want you back here next week, though, and keep taking those vitamins." He ordered, and you nodded, Negan reaching out to wipe a few tears from your face.

"Negan," He looked up at the doctor when his name was spoken. Waiting for him to continue. "I'm going to talk with Rick and the others. I think she'd do better if you were to be with her more. She's gonna need more help the further she gets along. It's not easy moving around with a baby inside you," He quipped, and you rolled your eyes. "You could say that again," you scoffed, but Negan was too caught in the thought of holding you at night again.

"Can we trust you out here?" He asked, and Negan nodded, "Of course, I'm not fucking up this kid's life by pulling something stupid and getting more than just my throat slit. I'd do anything to be with my family," He told the doctor, squeezing your hand with a smile. "All right, I'll talk to them," "thank you," Saddiq merely shrugged with a soft exhale. "Don't thank me yet. II doubt Michonne will like the idea too much."

And she didn't, not one bit.

"Do you guys not remember what he did to us? What he did to Glenn? Or to Abraham? Or anyone else who got killed in the crossfire?" She hissed, and the people around her flinched. "Maggie doesn't even come around anymore because of him. Do you really think we should just let him roam the streets because his wife is having a kid?" She asked.

Rick shrugged. "Carl would let him."

---

It was a hard fight, and Negan did everything to prove to Michonne and the others that he was trustworthy. God, he'd let them put him on a leash just as long as he got to hold his baby when it was born.

He had never felt more torn. One part of him wanted to be excited. To scream and sing about how happy he was to be a father. He was going to have a little Negan running around. Causing chaos and destroying everything in sight. Or maybe a little you. Or a cross of both. He had every right to be excited. His heart swelled at just the thought.

The other part of him wanted to hide away in a corner. Ashamed of what his life had become and all the people he had lost. Along with the fact that he might not be able to hold you ever again. Or even get to play a simple game of hide and seek with his little one. He did everything he did for the people he cared about. Still to this day, he believed he did the right thing. He didn't deserve to be behind these bars, it was the goddamn apocalypse for Christ's sake!

Every day was a war inside Negans head. He seemed to be growing more and more lost, and you took note of that. His smile would be less and less each day. His eyes seemed to slowly lose that shimmer to them that you loved. He was losing himself not being with you and it scared you.

Michonne was there every day to watch you and the ex-leader interact. Listening to how he would talk to you, and what the both of you would say to each other. She never knew he could be that soft. So kind and loving. So paternal.

It took longer than Negan thought, but Michonne finally caved in. She saw how upset you were getting and she'd be damned if she kept a child from their father. Even if their father was batshit crazy.

He hardly looked up when he heard the door outside open. His eyes drooped from his lack of sleep. "Negan," Michonne snarled, and the man sighed. "What? Are you here to tell me I'll never see my kid?" She had never seen him look so defeated. Maybe this was what he needed? She should leave him down here to rot and deal with the fact that he'd only be able to see his baby through bars.

She wasn't like that though. If she was in Negans position she'd probably die from a broken heart. If she was unable to watch her kid grow? It would be torture, even if she thought he deserved it. You and that baby didn't deserve that. She'd be lying if she said she didn't like you either. You were a good person, and everyone could see it. No one understood why you were with someone like him, though.

She sighed, leaning her back against the wall with crossed arms. Watching the man for another moment or two before speaking up. "We're letting you out." His eyes shot up to Michonne, that liveliness slowly flickering back to life within them.

"What?" He choked, and she pursed her lips. "You need to be there for your kid. We're going to have people watching you and your wife at all times. Guards around your home, but we're letting you be with her until the baby's born," she spoke, and he could tell it pained her to say those words. Admitting that she was letting the big bad wolf out of his trap. A trap that protected the flock of sheep outside the four walls he was kept behind.

"Don't make us regret this, Negan. Who knows, you act good, we might allow supervised visits," he shook his head with a sigh. That smile was back on his face. "Shit, I don't think I've ever been more excited to hear the words 'supervised visits' when referring to my future kids," he chimed, and Michonne rolled her eyes. "Shut up before I lose the keys." And Negan listened for once. Standing to his feet with hope.

---

The moment that Negan was free, and actually able to hold you while he slept. He felt more healed than he ever had. His hands held and kept you close at all times. He was there to help you with anything that you needed. You were his everything and he finally had you back.

Even with all the side eyes and glares you each received throughout the town. Neither of you really seemed to care too much. It wasn't like they could stop you both from walking around. Happy and merry you would be raising a kid together. It wasn't until a month before you were due. That's when you each began to fear the citizens around you.

He held your hand with his as he walked you to the doctor's office. His eyes glanced over at you here or there to be sure everything was all right. He was always worried about you, especially since you were due at any moment.

Negan stopped the stroll with you when he heard a familiar click behind the both of you, though. His heart jumped into his throat as he squeezed your hand. His head turned around to look at the man behind the both of you that held a gun out. Aimed right at you.

He had feared this day since his attempted assassination. A gun aimed right at the love of his life. Just now it felt so much worse. You were pregnant. Carrying a baby! But it was his baby, and he knew the people behind these walls only saw evil when they thought of your kid being born. It tore him to pieces, and panic was setting within his chest. He felt like he was trapped, unable to save you.

Negan acted fast without thinking. Pulling you to the side and behind him. Thankful the person didn't fire. The barrel of the pistol just followed his movements. Now pointed at Negans head. "Hey, what do you think you're doing? Pointing a gun at a pregnant lady," Negan asked with a light-hearted chuckle. His palms sweating a little with how vulnerable he felt right now.

"You killed her," he snapped, and Negan felt his heart drop. He'd never escape any of this, would he? "Look, I'm sorry, I really am," he tried to apologize. He'd plead if he really had to. Anything to keep you safe and prove that he changed. "She was pregnant too, you know? My wife, she was four months along," the man rambled, his voice cracking while tears brimmed his eyes. "Why should you get to keep your wife and baby, huh?" He shouted, and people started gathering around to watch the scene unfold.

Rick was the one that tried to de-escalate the situation, but you hardly knew what was going on. Your head was pounding and swimming with what-if thoughts. Thoughts of Negan dying, you getting shot and the baby not making it.

Then it hit you like a ton of bricks. A pain in your abdomen that had you clenching Negans hand hard. The man hissed out with a wince at how hard you squeezed. "Dammit, woman, what are you-" he snarled a little, intimidated by the situation, and confused as to why you were grabbing him so hard. "I need to get to the infirmary," you wheezed, and he felt his stomach flip. Noticing how sweaty you were, and how the color seemed to drain from your face. Was the baby coming? Did you get too scared? What was going on?

He didn't have time to think before a loud bang was heard. Negan's arms instinctively wrapped around you at the noise. The jolt of adrenaline that shot through you was not helping your case, nor was his body draped over yours.

He peaked over his shoulder, realizing the man had only shot the ground and Rick was holding him to the ground. "Negan, get her to Saddiq, now!" Rick shouted, and Negan nodded. He didn't have to tell him twice.

His head was racing at the thought of you going into labor. Was he really ready to be a dad? Were you both ready to be walking around with a baby in these conditions? What if he did get shot? What if someone killed you?

He didn't have time to think about anything worse before you were being helped up the stairs by Saddiq. Pulled into the main room of the infirmary and onto the table.

"Negan," you cried out when he went to stand back from the table. Your hand reaching out to hold his, "Don't go, please." He frowned at your words. He hated that you thought he would just leave you here. His smile slowly came back while he nodded, "I'm not heading anywhere, remember, you're stuck with me." He told you, leaning down to kiss your fear. Brushing away the tears that spilled past your eyes.

The contractions got closer and closer with each minute that went by, and soon Saddiq was using his knowledge and helping you deliver your baby. Negan was simply a bystander, holding your hand and doing his best to comfort you. Even if you were screaming and yelling at him with each reassurance he tried to give you. He knew you didn't mean it, or at least he assumed.

---

When the baby was finally born Negan couldn't take his eyes off of them. They were so small, especially in his hands. Little nose, ears, eyes, feet, he couldn't stop smiling.

"Can I hold my baby?" You asked, reaching your arms out with a small smile, and Negan raised a brow. "Don't you mean our baby?" He asked, looking back down at her before handing the little one to you. Propping some pillows behind you so you could sit up on the bed while holding your baby. The blanket draped over your legs.

He hummed out a small laugh while looking over the kid, reaching out to place his finger on the palm of her hand. Watching as she squeezed back. "She has your eyes," you told him, and he chuckled, "Then I hope she's got your smile, honey-bear," he cooed, leaning over in order to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

From that day on Negan spent most of his time by your side. Getting Michonne off his ass after the whole rogue citizen incident. He needed to not only be there to help you heal, but also protect you. It was obvious that people weren't going to feel any remorse for killing a woman - that unknown to Negan - helped Rick capture the Saviors. Nor her baby who had done nothing wrong.

He couldn't believe that he had a kid now. She was everything to him too. He couldn't wait until she got older, as well. Watch his little girl grow up into someone strong. He just hoped she didn't grow up too fast.

"You know," he murmured, the both of you finally back in the safety of the house Rick had assigned you when you first got into Alexandria. "I think we should have an army of kids," he cooed, and you rolled your eyes. Leaning against him while you each sat on the couch. The baby in your arms.

"Negan, I'll have one more kid for you. After that, you'll have to figure out the army situation on your own. Either find kids out there, or someone else to have your babies." you joked, and he snickered, pressing a kiss to your cheek. His nose nuzzled your skin afterward. "Hmm, we'll be all right with just two, I guess," he sighed dramatically, and you rolled your eyes.

"I at least want a little boy," he hummed with a smirk, kissing on your neck while you giggled lightly. "Well, we're waiting at least another two years before I have another one, Neg," he groaned at your words. Leaning more against you. "Why not now?" You tittered, kissing his cheek. "Someone's got baby fever, don't they?" You asked with a grin, and he shrugged. "Only if you're the one makin' 'em, sweetheart," he told you, and you nodded. Finally settling against his chest after he stopped squirming around beside you. He was worse than the sleeping babe in your arm.

"I love you," he cooed, leaning his head on top of yours while one arm draped around your shoulders. The other hand reached down to set on the baby's chest. "I love you both, don't either of you forget that." He whispered.

Tag list: @tuttifuckinfruttifriday Fill out the form in my pinned post to be added to future works :)

#negan x reader #negan #negan twd #negan the walking dead #negan smith #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #twd #twd x reader

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crazylilad · 2 years

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I'll do anything for you even if you won't love me back -Daryl Dixon X Y/N

Masterlist

Hey guys! So this is actually an idea I had when cleaning my room a couple nights ago and just now got to write it. I never really thought I would write one shots but I have a few in mind that might start coming out these next couple weeks!

Please make sure to reblog if you enjoy this little idea I had! It helps a ton!

This is set in early season 7 during Negan's first visit to Alexandria!

Word count: 1448

Daryl Dixon had spent days in that tiny cell with no way to tell how long it had been. He spent most of his time in his own, dark thoughts; most of the time he thought of Glenn and Abraham, how if he had killed Dwight -who was now in charge of feeding and taking care of Daryl- none of them would be in this mess.

When Dwight suddenly took Daryl out of his cage of cement and shoved him in the back of a truck, Daryl worried this would be the last time he would see anyone ever again.

His mind wandered to Y/N, the way she had begged Negan to take her instead of him, how she had pleaded in front of everyone for him. Y/N had never begged before, had never stooped to such a low standard, but for Daryl it seemed she would do anything.

They had spent many nights in the same bed, away from the rest of their family and enjoying early mornings in one another’s arms. Although Daryl didn’t actually live with Y/N, who decided to share a home with Enid that way the teen wasn’t having to live on her own, he was over there more often than not.

Y/N was nice like that, always sacrificing what she had for others. All those moments spent together, that time on the road when he had pushed her away after Beth… The hours she spent patching him up and kissing his worries away. She never left his side, always checking up on him and making sure he was okay even when he couldn’t do the same for him.

Those were only a few of the thousand reasons why Daryl loved her.

He closed his eyes, tears brimming at the edges while he hoped Y/N was okay, that the nasty bruise one of the saviors had left her when she went to kill Negan was gone.

His fists clenched when he realized where they were, the color from his face draining when Spencer opened Alexandria’s gate for Negan. Rick had tried to speak to Daryl but was quickly shut down, Negan threatening to cut off parts of Daryl.

But Daryl didn’t care anymore.

“Where’s that chick with the badass pocket knife? Her face all screwed after Mark hit her?” Negan turned around, a smirk on his face when he saw Daryl’s deadly glare. “She’s your girl, yeah? What was her name- Y/N right? Now she was beautiful! In fact,” He paused. “I wouldn’t mind makin’ her one of my wives.”

Daryl wanted nothing more than to choke the devil in front of him. But, the more he thought about it, the more he realized… Where was Y/N?

He followed quietly as Negan and Rick took a stroll around Alexandria, Negan continuing to speak about Y/N in front of Daryl like he wouldn’t lash out any second.

Soon enough they had reached Y/N’s place. Rick didn’t meet Daryl’s gaze when he walked in the small townhouse, Enid passing by with some balloons in her hands and a pale face.

Negan chuckled. “Did you decorate this shit show?” He pointed to the white love seat with shoe stains and blood on it. “Now I know you didn’t think this was some nice pansy little chair!” Daryl didn’t give him a reaction.

That chair was something Y/N had forced him to keep, saying something about how even with the stains it was a gorgeous piece of furniture. He had to keep himself from snorting when he remembered the multiple dinners Enid and he had spent trying to convince her to get rid of it.

“Where’s her room?” Negan asked, whistling a tune as he raced up the stairs. Daryl’s heart nearly stopped.

“Neg-” Rick tried to stop him.

Dwight shoved Daryl up the stairs when he hesitated. Negan and Rick were already standing in the master bedroom, some saviors in Enid’s room taking whatever they wanted.

“Where is she?” Negan asked Rick, who was too busy looking at the clean room. Daryl noticed there was a lack of weapons on their dresser and the bathroom was clean instead of having toiletries strewn on the counter.

Rick sighed, eyes glistening like he was holding in tears. “She- she didn’t make it back.”

Daryl’s heart stopped as he tried to think of what could’ve happened, why they could be hiding her away. Where are you, Y/N?

Negan whistled lowly. “Damn, the widow and her as well… how’d she die?”

A tear fell down Rick’s cheek. “She… she couldn’t take it all. Took her knife and-”

“Okay.” Negan stopped him. “I mean shit… in front of you all? With that stunt she pulled, I thought she would’ve greeted me with another knife, but instead she goes and offs herself? Now that sucks.”

Negan tossed one of the boxes that sat on their dresser to the floor and chuckled when pictures flew out, decorating the floor.

Daryl swallowed when Negan bent and picked up the picture of Y/N and Daryl standing in their bathroom. Aaron had given Y/N a polaroid the night they had come to Alexandria and she had spent a lot of her time taking pictures of the group.

In this picture Y/N was in the deep green dress she had worn to Deanna’s welcoming party, the daisy Daryl had picked from someone’s garden in her hair. Daryl stood next to her, smiling down at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world while she drunkenly leaned against his chest.

Negan whistled. “Damn. I- I see why you like her. Or, I’m sorry, liked her. I mean- Damn! She’s fine.”

Negan dropped the picture on the floor before pulling out one of the dresser Drawers. There sat all of Daryl and Y/N’s undergarments. They were all neatly folded, much different from the mess the two always kept it in, each promising to take care of it one day but neither ever got to it.

Y/N preferred her clothes mused instead of folded neatly. “It’s easier to find what I want that way,” she would tell Daryl.

Daryl’s eyes wandered the room, his eyes falling to the floor when he noticed a stray picture. This one was of their room, the piles of clothes that sat in the corner were there, the bathroom door was opened, showing their organized mess. Y/N’s jacket she rarely ever wore was hung up on a hanger on their closet door where Daryl had put it the day before Denise had died. And, if that wasn’t enough, in bright red sharpie, HERE was written across the picture.

This was just taken, Daryl realized. She’s still in the house.

His foot moved to cover the picture as carefully as he could, freezing when he saw something under the bed move. A small hand moved near his bare foot, and he pushed the picture toward it, grateful no one was paying attention to him.

Negan continued to throw drawers onto the floor, making a mess. It wasn’t long after that saviors entered the room and began taking what they wanted.

Daryl was tossed around, always moving about and helping the saviors load things into their trucks. When he came back in, a savior was Shoving Y/N’s jewelry box into Daryl’s hands.

Daryl paused when one of the saviors cursed as he dropped something and moved to look under the bed for it.

Daryl’s heart raced and he hardly had time to think before he choked out a cough and fell toward the savior, making the man focus on keeping his balance. The savior pushed Daryl to the ground, cursing.

The jewlery box broke into multiple fragments next to him.

“Damn fool!” The savior yelled as he landed a swift kick to Daryl’s ribs.

Daryl gasped as the kicks kept coming, now on his back as well. He could’ve sworn his gunshot wound reopened. His eyes fluttered and he noticed Y/N pull her gun out, already planning on blowing her cover. He made eye contact with her, noticing the fear in her eyes. For him.

Daryl knew, then and there, no matter what happened to them, even if he was nothing more than someone to warm her bed at night, he would do anything for you even if you won't love him back.

And while he didn’t know it, Y/N thought the same thing, silently vowing to protect Daryl even if she lost her own life. Because, whether he returned her feelings or not, Daryl Dixon was the man she loved more than anything else.

Prompt: I'll do anything for you even if you won't love me back

Taglist

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know!

@d1am0ndw0lfxd @eatinpeachs

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ecoamerica · 24 days

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youtube

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queenvidal · 1 year

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The Queen For A King

Negan x Reader (Rick's Daughter)

Chapter 2: Be My Guest

Chapter Summary: Carl will kill Negan for what he's done to you. Your brother is already at The Sanctuary, all he needs to do is pull the trigger.

Wordcount: 4336

Era: Season 7

- Part 4 of the The One And Only Series -

Chapter Index:

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

Masterlist /Negan x Rick's Daughter Series

Negan's convoy has been driving for a long while now. It’s dead silent in the cargo hold aside from the occasional clicking of bottles when hitting a bump on the road. Carl is still clinging to the rifle in his hand, adrenaline still running through his system. It can’t take much longer for them to reach the Saviors base, the two men driving already talked about it.

What’s he going to do once there? Carl still has no idea. Shot Negan of course, but he didn’t think of much more. He won’t be able to go home, that much he knew when he decided to kill Negan. His big sister will be heart-broken, a thought he absolutely hates, but in his mind it’s still better than having her suffer through whatever Negan was and is still putting her through.

Groaning can be heard outside and the truck is slowing down. Carl peeks up from one of the crates, trying to see what's going on. They are passing a gate that is surrounded by tied up walkers, they must have reached their destination. After a few more moments the convoy finally stops. Carl’s heart is about to jump out of his chest.

All of the saviors exit their vehicles, doors can be heard shut and more and more voices fill the area. Negan's voice catches the boys attention immediately. He's giving orders but before Carl can decide whether to stay put or jump and surprise them, one of the saviors climbs into the cargo hold. He reaches for a crate full of cans when his eyes meet Carls. “What the fuc-”

Carl opens fire immediately, killing the savior and running towards the edge of the hold. More saviors are standing around the truck, looking up at the young boy in surprise. Carl quickly scans the era but is unable to find the man he’s looking for.

“I only want Negan!” Carl yells at the gathering crowd. “He hurt my sister! No one else needs to die!”

Time seems to stop. Everyone is looking at Carl, no one moving a muscle. The whole place is quiet until a familiar tune makes Carl turn his head. Negan is strutting towards the truck with a big grin on his face, angering Carl even more. He is not scared? Carl takes aim at him, but that doesn’t seem to bother Negan in slightes, his smile only grows.

“Damn, kid.” the head of the Saviors says, walking in between his men, making it impossible for Carl to aim properly. “You are adorable. Did you pick that gun ‘cause it looks cool? You totally did, right?” The boss comes to stop right behind one of his men, using him as a meatshild. “Kid, I ain't gonna lie, you scare the shit outta me.”

While being distracted, one of the saviors takes the chance to tackle Carl down but the boy reacts quickly, shooting the man down. The others jump into action also. Dwight, who was ordered to unload the trucks, grabs Carl's feet, tearing him off the truck. Once on the ground, Dwight disarms him, landing a hard blow on Carl’ chest to immobilize him before taking the rifle and aiming at the boy’s heart. Carl looks up at him with wide open eyes, raising his hands to his head, surrendering.

“Dwight, back off.” Negan orders, slowly walking up to the two of them. “Is that any way to treat our new guest?” Carl’s staring up at Negan, his chest heaving from rapid breaths. The boy is scared out of his mind. With a smile Negan’s reaching out his hand. “Come on, kid. I'll show you around.”

But Carl doesn’t move. While still fighting for his breath, he keeps staring at Negan. “You know, you do the same damn stink-eye as your dad.” Negan tells him, slowly getting annoyed. “Except yours is only half as good ‘cause, well, you’re missing an eye.”

Carl starts to glare at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of eliciting a reaction from him.

Negan's smile is slowly fading. “Really, kid?” He asks, the teasing tone in his voice gone. “You really not gonna take my hand? ‘Cause you’re lucky to even still have a hand. A circumstance we can easily change, don’t you think?”

After one final glare, Carl eventually casts his eyes away to the ground, giving in. He reaches out to take Negan's hand, who helps him up onto his feet.

“Ah, smart kid.” Negan chuckles, before turning around to his men. “Dwighty-boy, why don’t you go to the kitchen and do a little prep?” Dwight only nods before disappearing behind the trucks. “New plan, boys”, Negan addresses the remaining men “Let’s burn the dead, unload the trucks after and then restock two of ‘em for later.”

The Saviors get moving and Negan turns back to Carl. “Damn, I got a feeling this is gonna be a long day, kid. I won’t have time to screw any of my wives today.” The comment paired with the shit-eating grin on Negan’s face makes Carl’s blood boil. And just like his father the boy is unable to keep his true emotions from reflecting on his face, amusing Negan to no end. He nods towards the entrance of the building behind them. “Come on.”

Negan takes the lead, but Carl doesn’t move, instead he asks. “What are you gonna do with me?”

The man stops in his tracks, taking a long breath before turning around to face the boy again. After an annoyed sigh, he considers Carl for a moment. Eventually Negan tells him, “Number one, do not shader my image of you. You're a badass, you’re not scared of shit. Don’t be scared of me, it’s a disappointment. Number two-” Negan takes a few steps closer, standing right in front of Carl's face. “You really want me to ruin the surprise?” Carl doesn’t answer, now really pissing Negan off. “Screw you kid.” Negan puts his hand on Carl's shoulder, pushing him forward to get him moving. "Seriously, screw you.”

The both of them go inside the building. Carl takes the chance to look around. The Saviors base seems to be an old factory. From the short glimpse he could get on the truck this place must be huge.

The both of them take a small flight of stairs before stopping in front of two big metal doors. Negan opens one of them and nods at Carl to move inside. He does so a bit hesitant, his eyes not leaving the man. Once the big metal doors close behind them, Negan whispers to Carl. “Check that out.” Before moving on to a balustrade.

Carl follows carefully, looking down at the level below them. It indeed is a huge place. People are swarming around. They don’t look like the Saviors, none of them carry any weapons or are wearing protective gear. Are they off duty? If so, Negan’s army is even bigger than Rick and the others have ever assumed.

When a woman spots Negan leaning against the metal, she quickly hushes the people around her and goes down on her knees. Immediately the whole room, busting with noise, goes silent and everyone follows suit, kneeling down.

Carl can’t help but to frown at that. What are they doing?

Negan casts a quick smile at Carl before talking to his people. “The Saviors have gone out into the world, fought the dead and came back with some really good stuff. Some of that stuff can be yours, if you work hard and-” He pauses to give Carl a quick side eye, “Play by the rules. Today, everybody gets fresh vegetables at dinner, no points needed.”

Smiles all over the place, some clapping and some thank yous here and there. Carl watches the scene in complete disbelief. Negan turns his back to the people. “You see that?” He asks, grinning slightly. “Respect. Cool, huh? They’re still on their knees.” Negan turns his head, yelling over his shoulder “As you were!”

And the people go on about their day. Carl is unable to look away. What the hell is this place?

Only when Negan calls him, does Carl react and get moving.

“Alright, kid.” Negan sighs as he leads them through the factory. “I have some business to attend to before we get to your little surprise.” Carl doesn’t like the sound of that. If Negan wants to kill him, why won’t he just finally get it over with? “Since you’re my guest I figure I’ll just drag you along till we get to you.”

After climbing five more flights of stairs, they’ve reached their destination. This floor looks different from the others, Carl takes a look around while still following Negan. There are plants in every corner, some nice decor here and there, chairs and tables. And a lot of guards.

“Nice up here, huh?” Negan asks, not looking at Carl. “You might recognize some stuff, some was yours before we got it.” Carl ignores Negan’s teasing, which makes him turn his head. “Oh, come one, kid. Brighten up a little. The best thing about this floor is right around the corner.”

Carl keeps following Negan and both enter a new room through big wooden doors. Carl is taken aback. The room is full of what must have been crazy expensive furniture back in the day. His eye lands on the five women huddled around each other.

“Ladies,” Negan announces his presents. All heads turn towards them and the women quickly move to different sections of the room. “Don’t mind the kid.” They must be Negan's wives. Carl doesn’t know how to feel about this. The atmosphere in the room is strange. None of them seems to be happy to see them. Their reaction is nothing like he knows from his parents or Y/N with her boyfriend.

“I know.” Negan smiles at the boy, “Hot, huh? They all look like they're doing the books at an auto shop. You wanna look at their titties?” Carl looks at Negan with wide open eyes. “Hey, I won’t mind, they won't mind. Knock yourself out, kid.”

Negan turns his attention to one of the women. “Can I talk to you for a minute, dear wife?”

A woman with auburn hair looks up at him, she pats the blonde next to her on the shoulder with a small smile before standing up. Negan leads her to the bar, leaving Carl standing in the middle of the room.

To say he feels uncomfortable would be an understatement. While Negan talks to the woman, Carl looks at the other women. They all seem irritated, all but one. The blonde woman sitting alone on a sofa looks like she’s about to cry at any moment. She doesn’t look up from her hands, nervously fidgeting with the jewelry around her fingers. Carl feels sorry for her, something horrible must have happened to put her in such distress.

“Hold that for me, kid.” Negan says, approaching Carl and placing a beer bottle in his hands. “Help yourself, if you want to.” He turns his attention to the woman on the sofa, leaving Carl’s side again.

“Amber, baby,” Negan calls her when sitting down onto the coffee table right in front of her. The woman is shaking like a leaf, not meeting Negnas eyes. “You know I don’t wanna anybody in here who doesn’t wanna be in here, right?”

The woman nods slightly, still looking at her hands. A quiet “Mh-hm.” leaves her lips.

“Mh-hm,” Negan repeats in an almost mocking tone. “So, if you wanna go back to Mark and your mum you can.” He frowns at her. “But what can’t you do?”

The woman takes a deep breath. “Ch… cheat on you-”

“That is-” Negan is only inches away from her face, glaring at her. "Exactly right! You can’t cheat on me.” Amber’s eyes move from Negans back to her hands. Tears start to well in her eyes. Negan doesn’t seem to care. He leans back a little and tells her, “There’s plenty of other gals who would love to take your place and there’s a few job offerings I can think of.”

Negan lets that sink in for a moment, before leaning into her personal space again. “So, Amber, tell me. You wanna go back to Mark and your mum?” There is no response, visibly angering Negan. “Hell, I’ll even put y'all on the same job.”

“No!” Amber’s pleading with him. “No, please. I want to be here. I’ll stay, please. I- I am sorry.”

Negan carefully cups her chin with his hand. “You do know what that means, right?” Amber only starts shaking again, a silent tear falling on her cheek. “You do know what that means, right?”

“I do.” She sobs, “I am so sorry. I love you, Negan.”

“Oh, of course you do, darlin’.” Negan tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know why you’re crying. It’s all gonna work out easy for you.” After a short glance at Carl, Negan gives Amber a quick kiss on her forehead before standing up again. He can see the kid is troubled about all of this. Good.

Carl watches Negan making his way back to the woman at the bar he talked to earlier. That’s what Darly and his father were talking about late at night, when they thought the others were sleeping. He’s overheard quite the view conversations. That Negan forces women to be with him, although he never could picture what they’ve meant. Now he does. Negan is using loved ones against them. Is he doing the same thing to his sister? Most likely, she’d do everything for them.

When Negan is kissing the woman at the bar, nausea is hitting Carl like a wave. Why does he have to do all of this? He has five wives, why can’t he leave Y/N alone?

Dwight appears next to him, stopping right at the door.

When Negan’s done, he throws a dirty smile at Dwight before making his way over to them. “Dwighty, whatcha got for me?”

Dwight’s holding a tray full of bread and fresh fruits and vegetables. Negan takes a toothpick and picks up a piece of what seems to be a strawberry. “Carl,” he says, “You gonna take the tray for me?” The boy quickly places the beer he's been still holding onto a table to take the tray from Dwight. “D, fire up the furnace. We’ll be there in a few. Time for a little déjà vu, huh?” Negan nods at Carl, signaling him to get moving. “Ladies.” The boss takes a last glance at his wives before leaving again.

Negan takes the lead again with Carl following behind. The tray in Carl’s hands is shaking. He is so upset about what he's just seen. Negan frowns at him. “Man, calm down, kid. I can’t hit the olive with the way you’re sha-

“What is Y/N to you?” Carl bursts out loud. “Just another trophy?”

This makes Negan stop walking, his mimic changing grim. “Watch your tongue, small boy. Your sister is my queen and if I had it my way, she'd be sitting on a fucking throne right next to me but since she loves you fuckers so much and declines my offers to come to The Sanctuary, I have get my rocks off somewhere else.”

“You’re absolutely disgusting.” Carl glares at him, unable to hold himself back any longer. “These women don’t love you, no one ever will-”

“Do not make me put this toothpick through the only eye you have.”

Negan’s towering over Carl and he is dead serious about his threat. Carl endures the glare for a moment longer, before casting his eye down again.

“From now on you’ll only speak when spoken to. Are we clear?” Carl wonders if he's struck a nerve there. Negan seems to be beyond pissed. “Are we cl-”

“Yes.” Carl finally answers.

After one final warning glare, Negan turns around again. “Good. Come on, I wanna show you something.”

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

“If I find him, I’ll kill him,” you whisper angrily to yourself. You’ve been searching for Carl the whole morning , asking everyone in your path if they've seen him, only to always get the same answer: no.

When you see Olivia at the pantry, you yell over the street, “Liv, have you seen my brother?”

The other woman turns around, shaking her head. “No, I am sorry.”

You can’t help but to groan in annoyance. “Fuck.” Where the hell can he be? This is not normal for Carl, he always informs somebody about his whereabouts.

“Oh, Y/N?” Oliva calls, “We still have to go through Michonne’s findings from yesterday. We’ve stored them in the severs for now. Are you free this afternoon?”

“Sure thing.” You tell her, already moving on to go back up the street, hoping to find the boy may be at the gardens, “Come see me later.”

When you cross the street to reach the gardens, you hear your name being called. You turn around to find Spencer running towards you. Perfect, just what you needed right now. “Hey, Y/N!” You slow down, waiting for him to catch up on you. Once at your side, he smiles at you. “You look pretty today.”

"Thanks, Spencer.” You force yourself to smile at him. Compliments from him always have a weird taste to them.

His own smile grows a bit, “I mean, you do look pretty everyday, just-”

“Spencer.” You interrupt his rambling, already annoyed. “What do you want?”

Spencer's smile suddenly vanishes. His eyes wander around, making sure no one is eavesdropping. “I gotta talk with you. ‘Bout Rick.”

You frown at him, already not liking where this is going. “What about him?”

He lets out a sigh before quietly stating. “You know, he’s gonna get us all killed, right? If he already thought about attacking Negan again, there is nothing we can say or do to stop him from doing that. You know that.”

You do and you hate to agree with him on that one. “And what do you want from me?”

Spencer takes a step closer to you, whispering. “I want you to work with me. I think together we would be better leaders than your father.” What now? You just stare at him, lost for words. “You’re obviously willing to make sacrifices for our survival and I am good with people. I think-”

“You don’t think and that’s the problem.” You hiss, aggravated by his talk.

“Hey, I know you don’t want to hear this, okay?” Spencer’s holding up his hands, trying to calm you down again. “But you, out of everyone, know best that his decisions are rarely the best ones. You’ve lost your previous home because of him and now we all could be losing Alexandria, if we don’t do something about it.”

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your anger in check. “You’ve never lived outside these walls since the dead started walking. What the hell makes you believe you could make better decisions than him? You don’t know shit-”

“That's why I need you.” He states, “I might be lacking the knowledge of the world outside, but you have plenty of experience. We’d complement each other.”

“Spencer, I am this close to expl-”

“Y/N. come on.” He sighs. “Be honest, do you think the way he’s handling the situation with the Saviors is how things are supposed to go?” You bite your cheeks. Spencer does have a point. “You know, my mum was a good leader and I as her son would be that, too.” You just shake your head in disbelief, this man is delusional. “I know, Rick teached you a lot of skills as well and you are smart and dedicated. I mean, your arrangement with Negan shows that you are willing to do what it takes to survive.”

That's it! You storm towards him, stopping right in front of his face. “You don’t know shit about me and Negan, nor my father. Now listen carefully.” You stare him down, anger making your hands tremble. “My father got us through four fucking hard years outside of Alexandira. We wouldn’t be alive today if not for him. He made mistakes on our way and people died, yes, but never ever will I or you be able to replace him as a leader.”

“Y/N, please. I’m just saying-”

“If I hear you plotting against him one more time, exile will be my least concern.”

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

Negan opens up another door, waving Carl inside. The boy walks into what seems to be Negan's private quarters. Just like every other room on this floor, this one, too, is furnished with expensive stuff with decor and clutter everywhere. But Carl doesn't pay much attention to it, he is still trying to process what has just happened. Nausea is still making his stomach churn. Negan just melted someone's face with an iron. It was so awful to watch and he’s sure he won’t forget the smell anytime soon.

“Sit.” Negan points at one of the armchairs. Carl silently does as he’s been told to, while Negan sits down on the sofa across from him, folding his hands. “Well, let's get started."

“Started on what?”

“Hm, work it out.” Negan shrugs with his shoulders. “You’re smart, kid. In fact, I’m gonna tell you how smart you are in case you don’t already know. You see, I’d expect kids your age to be mopin’ around, not doing shit except crying about missing the prom. But you?” Negan points at Carl for a second. “You go out on a mission. You find me, you kill two of my men and you’re smart enough to know that I won’t let that slide.”

Carl starts to get nervous. What’s he going to do with him? Melt his face, too? Shot him, get Lucille?

Negan chuckles suddenly. “Oh, man. I can’t. It’s like talking to a birthday present. You gotta take that crap off your face. I wanna see what grandma got me.”

His bandages? Absolutely not. Carl shakes his head. “No-”

“Two men!” Negan yells. “Punishment. You really wanna piss me off?”

Afraid of Negan’s threats, Carl obeys eventually. He takes off his hat, before removing the bandages around his head. When he’s removed them all, he looks up at Negan again.

“Jesus Christ,” Negan chuckles. “That shit’s nasty! I can see your fucking socket.” He leans forward to take it all in. “Damn, kid. How did that happen?”

“Why do you care?”

“For shits and giggles.” Negan mocks. “Now tell me.” Carl’s fidgeting with the bandages in his hand, unwilling to tell what happened. “Speak up, kid.”

Carl's gaze wanders to the floor again. “Someone wanted to shoot my father but got distracted and hit me instead.”

Negan’s eyebrows rise up at that. “Really?” Carl nods in conformation. “Damn.” Negan leans back into the cushions of the sofa. “Your dad really has a knack for pissing people off. Really sucks that he’s dragging his kids into the mess all the time.”

“Can… Can I wrap it up again?” Carl asks carefully.

“Oh, you absolutely cannot.” Negan dismisses his question.

“Why the hell not?”

Negan has to smile at Carl’s anger. “Look at this badass. You can’t because I am not done with you. I like looking at your disgusting bad ass, rad ass eye, so it’s staying out.” Carl is visibly upset and holding himself back. “What? You got something to say?”

They boy thinks about saying something and eventually he asks. “Why haven't you killed me, or my Dad, Daryl, Y/N?”

“Hm,” Negan rests his feet on the coffee table, “Your dad, as annoying as he is, gets shit for me, so there is that. Daryl will make a good soldier for me, we were close to breaking him before we brought him back to Alexandria. Y/N, well, she is the only useful person in your damned community. She was quite disobedient in the beginning , true, but I think we’ve figured that out.”

Carl narrows his eye at that but keeps his mouth shut.

“You on the other hand? Well, we shall see.” Negan removes his feet from the table, moving to rest his arms on his knees. “It’s more productive to break you, more fun, too. You’re a smart kid, Carl. You know I can’t let you go, so…”

Carl keeps playing with the bandages, not meeting Negan's eyes.

“Should I kill you? Or iron your face? Maybe chop off an arm? Tell me, Carl. What do you think?”

Carl throws his bandages to the side, standing up and sneering at the man in front of him, “I think you should jump out of the window and save me the trouble of killing you.”

Negan lets out a whistle “Now there is the kid that impressed the shit out of me.”

With a narrowed eye, Carl tells him. “You won’t tell me what you’ll be doing to be because you won’t do anything to me.”

Negan huffs a laugh, “And why’s that?”

“Because Y/N would kill you.” That statement wipes the smile from Negan’s face. “She’d find you and she’d kill you if you’d kill any of us. That's why we're still alive. If you knew us, if you knew anything you would kill us but you can’t.”

“Wow.” Negan looks at Carl in awe. “Huh. Maybe your right. Maybe I can't." After a short moment, the boss stands up himself, moving past the boy to pick up Lucille from his desk. “Let’s go for a ride, kid."

Chapter Index:

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

Masterlist /Negan x Rick's Daughter Series

Taglist: @starry-night-20 / @joceymoo / @srhxpci / @ladykxxx08 / @sunneeflower / @frombloodandflesh / @lanamiller / @fanfic-n-tabulous

#The Walking Dead #twd #twd fanfiction #negan smith #negan x oc #twd negan #negan #negan x reader #negan / reader #rick grimes #carl grimes #michonne #daryl #daryl dixon #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #jdm #jeffrey dean morgan

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juuuulez · 7 months

Text

📰 | part seven: capulet.

info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, father figure Negan my love, enemies to lovers/slow burn, kinda angst but not emotionally yet, graphic violence, attempted sexual assault, um this got kinda dark, also long.

summary: Once again, you are tasked with babysitting Carl, this time leaving Alexandria to find supplies. An unsuspecting attacker causes a rift in your feud.

eesh this is intense but also very succulent to write i LOVE LOVE LOVE some action!

also thank you all for 150+ followers!!! pls continue to send ideas to my inbox i’m absolutely eating it up <3

You’re really starting to get sick of this heat.

It’s sweltering, sticking your clothes to your skin, sweat patches running down your back and dampening the white tank you usually wear.

In favour of not being bitten, you wore the typical black jeans, which are doing absolutely nothing to combat against the unbearable heat.

Unfortunately enough, there isn’t any air conditioning in the Sanctuary, so you’d agreed to return once more to Alexandria with your father.

It had been a few days since your last impromptu visit, a week, actually. Though you’d previously been frazzled, irritated, you took the time to cool off and work through some pretty ugly emotions back at home.

Now, it was down to business, which meant giving strict orders to Saviours on where to check, what to take. Making sure everybody wrote things down, followed their routine.

“Woah, woah, woah! What do we have here?”

Your head snaps in the direction of Negan’s voice, who is standing at the gates, leaning against an old, beaten down car with the engine on. As you approach, the familiar outline of a sheriff’s hat comes into view through the rear window, and you almost want to turn away and forget you even saw anything.

“Now, I sure as shit hope you weren’t planning on leaving unsupervised.” Negan jousts at the teenage boy, still leaning against the passenger side.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out where this is leading, and you shoot your father a tired little glare. “Can’t Dwight do it? Or, I dunno, anyone but me?” You plead, not exactly in the mood to be in a confined space with Carl once more.

For all you knew, he might swerve off the road to try and kill you.

Negan doesn’t let this slide, “Nope! You’re an excellent babysitter, doll. Best girl for the job.”

You bite your tongue against any sort of protest, still having not revealed the true extent of your last encounter with Carl. It would only cause unnecessary stress, you deducted.

At the beginning of this whole apocalypse, Negan had been cagey about letting you do just about anything. It only took a one bad incident to turn on his protective mode, and you felt like maintaining your freedom for a little longer.

“Fine.” You sigh, but instead of climbing into the passenger side, you skirt to the other end of the car. “Out, now. Leave the keys.”

Carl glares at you with an open mouth, clearly displeased about not only having his trip hijacked, but now being ordered around. “I can drive.”

“Don’t care. I’m not gonna risk you goin’ AWOL.” You tell him, unfortunately deadly serious, much to the boys’ dismay.

With an angry scoff, Carl departs from the drivers side, instead getting into the passenger chair. You sit down, leaning over to adjust the seat in order to ensure your feet would reach the peddles.

With Negan gone, having departed to keep a keen eye on the Saviours, you reach into your belt and pull a small handgun from the holster. This catches Carl’s attention, as he’s never seen you carry a gun before.

You hand it to him.

“One bullet,” You instruct, tone more serious than he’s ever heard from you. “Don’t fuck this up. It’s emergencies only. You’re lucky I don’t just let you die out there.”

He accepts it wordlessly, not wanting to push that very thin boundary.

The sweltering heat is worse in the car, harsh metal keeping the thick air inside, and you doubt it had any working cooling system.

Luckily, this proved to be less of a problem as you begin driving, the air whipping past your faces and offering a slight relief.

Carl gave you directions, but after the third instruction, you were beginning to get a little fed up.

“Why don’t you draw me a map?” You suggest, one hand on the wheel while the other brazenly fishes around in your back pocket, managing to pull out a small notepad. “Then I don’t need to listen to your voice.”

“What, like you can read?” Carl comments, a snide remark that contrasts the fact that he does take the notepad, flicking through pages in order to find an empty one.

His eyes are drawn to the little graphite sketches that adorn the pages, his thumb tempted to swipe the paper back and have a peek, but he resists.

A few moments later, and Carl hands the notepad back to you, which you hold in front of the wheel in order to get a good look. Your brows furrow, finger tapping against a strange looking blob.

“What’s this?”

Carl leans closer, brows pinched as he looks at the drawing. “A tree.” He says, as if it were obvious, despite the artwork being significantly less than professional.

“Okay?” You take your eyes off the road, giving the boy a confused, critical gaze. This only feeds into his temper, where Carl suddenly takes the notepad from your hands, drawing a few more scribbled lines on the so-called ‘leaves’ of his tree.

“So you know where to turn,” He specifies, like this would solve all of your problems, “At the end of the road. There’s a tree.”

You struggle to find your words for a moment, unsure how the simple action of drawing a map has just made this more confusing. “There are trees everywhere, dumbass. That isn’t helpful.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s a big tree,” Carl scoffs, throwing the notepad back onto the dash, opened so you can see it. “This wouldn’t be happening if you just let me drive.”

“Oh! Okay,” You turn to him, “I would have let you drive, had you not tried to shoot me. So, fairs fair, asshole. This is your fault.”

“I said I was sorry!” Carl retorts loudly, uncaring of how you’re no longer looking at the road, or about how fast the car is travelling.

You roll your eyes, “That doesn’t count. Murders don’t get let off scot-free just because they said two puny words.”

“That’s barely comparable!” He continues to push the conversation, all that pent up anger and frustration towards your adamancy against him starting to bubble up. “It’s not my fault that you’re, like, deranged or something.”

That was it.

You slam your foot on the breaks, sending the car skidding a few dangerous meters ahead. In that time, you brace yourself against the steering wheel, but Carl jolts uncomfortably against the seatbelt.

“What the fuck—”

“Get out.”

He looks at you like you’re actually insane, trying to decipher whether or not you’re being serious. But you only stare at him, glaring actually, jaw clenched in irritation.

“Get out!” You tell once more, needing Carl to get the message that you simply can’t be around him anymore. Not with all the arguing and bickering, it was getting on your last nerve, and you just needed some space to breathe.

With a huff, Carl obeys, but not without slamming the door shut. You run a hand raggedly through your hair, starting the car up once more and placing your foot on the accelerator.

“Fuck you!” Carl yells as you drive off, giving you the finger in hopes that you’ll see it in the rear view mirror. You probably didn’t, but it makes him feel a little better anyway, like he got the final word in.

But as the car disappears against the horizon, he’s left there, on the dusty road in that horrible summer heat. Sweat already sits on his nape, making his shirt uncomfortably sticky, and now he’s tasked with walking the rest of the way.

All because of your tantrum.

With the advantage, you make it to the abandoned gas station in record time. Thankfully, it wasn’t too far from where you’d ditched Carl, so you knew that he would be fine walking. You weren’t that cruel.

It’s relatively run-down, and you can only spot a few walkers mingling near the store’s back end. You keep your bat held tight, stalking through broken glass and tipped shelves to find anything of use. Whilst you don’t know what Carl had in mind for this trip, you could make a few assumptions, and managed to collect a small pile of minimal medical equipment, snacks, and even some baby food.

It was peaceful, actually.

Maybe a little too peaceful.

Slinging the bag of supplies over your shoulder, you approached the car once more, intending to drive the way back and pick Carl up along the way. He shouldn’t be too far off, at this point. You lean over, starting the ignition and popping the boot open, letting the supplies rest there.

But as you circle around, something catches your eye. A shiny glint on the ground. You poke it with your boot, only to realise that it appears to be a small razor blade.

Dread floods your system, and as you bend down to inspect the peculiar object, it hits you.

The tires, each one of them, have gone flat. Air completely let out, slashed. Unusable.

No escape.

You clench your jaw, rising to your feet once more, the metal bat still in hand. Someone was here. With what intentions, you didn’t know, but you could assume it wasn’t good.

Cautiously, you take a few steps backwards, towards the gas station. You watch the open space ahead of you, eyes steady on the treeline, inspecting for the most minute of movements that could betray the whereabouts of this potential attacker.

Except it doesn’t come from behind.

One steady thunk and your head is colliding with the concrete wall, to which the shock causes you to drop the baseball bat, one hand clasping the wall and the other digging your nails into the wrist of your attacker.

A firm hand has collected your hair, gripping onto your ponytail, fingers pressed into your scalp. You fight and squirm, but the body of a much larger man presses behind you.

With your stuff in the car, you can only imagine what he might want.

Despite this, you don’t scream, teeth clenched as you struggle to evade his grip. A harsh stomp to his foot assists your escape, where you’re able to land one solid punch square to the man’s jaw, before his leg swipes your balance out, sending you crashing to the concrete.

You almost twist onto your stomach, but the attacker is too quick, once again fisting your ponytail and slamming your face into the ground. One, two, three and you finally stop struggling as vigorously, blood and mucous caked all over your face, mixing in with chipped cement and dirt from the floor.

But the baseball bat is so, so close.

There’s one hand still in your hair, another on your back. Now waist, then stomach. Gross, burly fingers circling the button of your jeans.

A singular moment of weakness is all you need, where he’ll let his guard down, and you can leap for the bat.

Unfortunately, you know what form this weakness comes in.

You’re panting like a wild animal, trying not to squirm, carefully calculating your next move until suddenly there’s a loud pop then whistle that whirs past your ears, the sound almost making you flinch, before the weight of your attacker slumps against your body.

Crimson blood drips down onto your shoulder, coating your neck and back, the cold shock helping you regain enough consciousnesses to shuck the dead body from your smaller frame, scurrying out from underneath him.

The pavement is searing hot against your palms, you can even feel the burn through the thick material of your jeans. As you sit up on your haunches, looking around, you spot him.

Carl, crouched behind a few bushes, tentatively lowering the handgun.

One bullet.

As he begins to approach, you wipe some of the blood onto your arm, smearing the disgusting gunk further around your skin, which is still persistently dripping from your nose and mouth.

Gravel has surely made its way into the open wounds, but you do nothing about it. Not now, at least.

Carl approaches you slowly, putting the handgun back into his holster, and that genuine look of concern on his face makes you feel sick.

When he gets close enough, arms reach, you bristle and firmly shove him away, sending him stumbling a few steps backwards.

“The fuck did I say?!” You yell at him, directing all your rage and anger towards the corpse lying at your feet, back at Carl. “Emergencies only. What happens now, huh? I don’t have another bullet!”

He looks completely shell shocked by your outburst, not having accounted for such a reaction. But it doesn’t matter, as you’re still shouting, even as he stands there dumbly and watches.

“I had that under control!” You grunt, once again wiping at you nose, which runs with a mix of snot and blood.

When you garner no reaction from Carl, this frustration only continues to fester. You lean down to the ground, swiping up the baseball bat and clenching it hard in your palms.

You approach the body once more, and with one hefty swing, completely obliterate the man’s skull. Later, you would claim this was being proactive against potential walkers, but in the moment in was nothing more than revenge.

When you’ve entirely crushed the skull, you move on to the neck, spine, arms, torso. Anything. There comes a point where you’re no longer hitting to destroy any evidence of what happened, but hitting simply to feel some semblance of control. Blood spurts onto your jeans, some even reaching your tank, a darker colour that contrasts with the bright red of your own.

“Hey, hey. Cool it.” Carl is saying from behind you, and when you show no acknowledgment of his words, he reaches out to place a hand on your shoulder.

You shrug it off, but otherwise drop the bat, letting it clang harshly against the concrete, rolling a few feet away and leaving a gorey trail.

At this point, you try to clear your head, take stock of the situation. The tires are slashed, deeming the car useless. It was beginning to enter late afternoon, and though the days were hot, the nights were freezing. Not only that, but all this shouting has likely attracted whatever walkers you’d hoped to leave unsuspecting.

Finally, you spare a glance back at Carl, who’s been watching you this whole time. It looks like he’s on edge, waiting, ready for whatever you’re about to do, however irrational. A few specks of blood have made its way onto the sleeves of his flannel, where you realise how close Carl has been standing to you, even during the little outburst.

“Fine,” You mumble, answering his unspoken question. “No point heading back. Best push the car into some shade, camp out there for the night.”

Carl takes this as permission to contribute, though he still speaks to you with a level of cation. Mentally, you accept this as fear, but you know very well it’s actually concern. “I know the area pretty well. There’s a cabin not too far off, it was clean last time I checked.”

It’s reasonable, even if the idea of following Carl into the woods makes goosebumps rise on your skin. You’d rather not, especially now that he’d used the sole bullet, which you had none of on hand.

You chew on your busted bottom lip, nodding, accepting this makeshift plan. “Yeah, okay.” You sigh, almost sounding defeated, but nonetheless you pick the bat off the ground and stride back away from the gas station, not bothering to consult Carl any longer.

This was going to be a long night.

#carl grimes x reader #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #carl grimes #negan smith x reader #twd x you #carl grimes x you #negan smith #the walking dead

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renren-006 · 10 months

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Prisoner and Savior | Daryl Dixon x Reader, Negan Daughter

summery: Negan is your father and he reasures you that the events taking place are not your fault, that history had been written and he couldn't not show a little ruthlessness towards those who killed his men. With Daryl trapped with you in that compound, what will you do?

word count: 706

warning: negan has character development and not a 100% bad guy, Daryl loves you no question, spoiler for season 7/8.

a/n: hey! an original idea by me! i like negan as a character both before and after character development i never thought he was a bad character just a ruthless leader and i wanted a story to show partially if he had a daughtr how she would be able to see the other lays to him and not just the one Rick and the others see. Also Daryl is so hopelessly in love with you don’t worry.

Please let me know if you want more Negan or more Daryl stories!!

Happy reading

You didn't like it here, you never really did. He stood there at the end of the hallway watching the man behind the door so closely. You could see his eyes travel over to you, hurt and want clearly. You wanted to save him, you wanted to hold him close again, but you were a prisoner the same as he.

Negan stood outside that door almost everyday, making you watch as he stood before the man you loved. Negan made you choose your fate and you chose the right one. You were not his wife, you could not be seen as you were Negan's daughter. The only living thing keeping your mothers memory alive. He had such an attachment to that bat after the fire and after the world ended that you ran. For a few years you were free of the sad lonely man that your father had become.

How do you explain to a community that the man they hate, is your father. You couldn’t, and Negan didn’t say a word either. You knew your father. He wasn't who he portrayed himself to be, he was different, yes but heartless, never. He steered into your eyes when he turned around from berating your boyfriend. Daryl looked hurt, and you knew this was your fault, as much as your father and others told it was not. If you had not taken such a liking to Maggie and Glenn maybe they wouldn't be dead, maybe they would still be alive. If your father had not been the man they had attacked unjustly maybe he would not have beaten the others, scared Rick and made you a prisoner at his empire.

Daryl knew, he knew about Negan, the relationship you had with Negan and he still loved you. That car ride to the compound you knew you had to tell him, every dark secret, every love and wish that things had turned out different. Daryl consoled you in that car, and promised he would always love you. You didn't deserve him, he was too good, too tough. So when he looked at you with love before the door closed once again, you wanted to crawl in that room beside him.

“This isn't your fault Y/N” Negan told you, the sweetness of his voice. You looked up at him, “I have to show my people I..can handle those who hurt us”

“I understand, I just hate seeing him like that,” you told the man. Naegan nodded his head from the sofa next to you.

“I'm sorry” Negan spoke before leaving the room, and leaving you to your thoughts. That night you sat outside his door, Dwight not too far to keep watch to make sure you got your time. Dwight was a man that was already hurt by your father and seeing the kindness he spared to you made him rethink a few things. You whispered through the door for an hour before Dwight reminded you of shift change and you had to leave. Soon after a break out plan was solidified.

“Go” Negan spoke from behind you, waiting patiently by the door as you packed a backpack, “Ill make it seem like you escaped and blame someone else”

“Then you're only hurting your men” you told him.

“Then i'll find someone who deserves it, someone other than you and Daryl” his heart was big, and big enough that he understood he could not keep living this path in life. “Ill make this up to you”

“Make it up to Alexandria, give them their lives back and the Kingdom, this world is already crazy we don't need ....tyrants too” you told him.

“I can do that”

Negan spoke to Rick that evening, a chance to change and after explaining over and over the things on each of their minds they came to an agreement. Things had to change and with the right conversations and the right people there things can be changed. No more death, no more loss and no more war. This world was already in shambles and having living people fighting instead of fighting the dead, seemed counter productive. So a charter and a negotiation was made between the Hilltop, Alexandria and the Kingdom.

#daryl dixion #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #negan smith #twd negan #negan x daughter oc #The Walking Dead #twd fanfiction #twd spoilers #negan character development #negan is a good character #daryl dixon has a big heart

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 2 years

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Negan was smiling, apparently at ease sitting in a wingback chair as you were escorted in by Dwight. You wrenched your arm from his grip and glanced at Rick, whose expression was grim and worried. You thought you saw him gulp before he averted his eyes downward.

“There you are,” Negan said, grinning, looking you up and down not-so-subtly. He flicked his hand and Dwight began to leave. “Oh, Dwighty boy. Take Rick here with you. We’re gonna have a little private chat.” Negan’s eyes didn’t leave you and his smile was steady.

You stared at him through narrowed eyes and he let out a casual laugh. “It’s a good glare, but not quite as good as Daryl’s,” he commented, leaning forward slightly. Your heart lurched at the mention of his name. His tongue came out and wet his lips, but they returned right back into a smile which would have been charming if you hadn’t watched him beat two of your family members to death mere weeks ago…

You felt a surge of protectiveness for the family you had left. “Why’re you here? You didn’t bring the trucks for a supply pick up,” you pointed out, your tone wary.

He leaned back in his chair again and surveyed you. “A+. I didn’t. I didn’t need the big trucks for what I’m here for… but I am here for a pick up.” He watched your brow draw down in confusion. “I came for you now.”

You stomach somersaulted and panic tightened a sudden fist around your heart and lungs. He watched your eyes widen.

“You see, Daryl needs a little encouragement to get him to toe the company line. He’s really a stubborn pain in the ass,” Negan said, almost a lilt of admiration in his voice beneath that cocky smile. “He’s proving harder than I expected to break. So, I decided I need to apply a little extra to his pressure point.”

Your heart was racing so quickly it was like the whir of a hummingbird’s wings. “What does that have to do with me?” you asked, knowing full well the answer… But how did Negan know?

He pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth for a moment, giving you a knowing smile. He climbed to his feet and his tall, lean frame towered over you. “Oh, come on. Don’t play dumb with me doll… I was at the line-up after all. He did not like me talkin’ to you,” he grinned. “And just the mention of your name to him now—well,” he shrugged. “It’s obvious. He’d do anything for you. Anything,” he said, lowering his voice nearly to a whisper and fixing his eyes with yours. “So. It’s settled. You’re coming to The Sanctuary for a little reunion with Daryl. I think it’ll put some fucking spring in his step!”

You felt nauseous but were also determined not to show any weakness in front of Negan. “And Rick agreed to this?” you asked, skeptical.

“Fuck no!” he laughed loudly, tapping the side of his boot with Lucille absently and walking around you in a circle, his eyes wandering over you again. “But I’ve got Rick by his sad, tiny little balls! The poor prick is nearly castrated at this point. What the hell is he gonna do?” He laughed again.

You drew in a shaky breath. “I won’t be your wife,” you said.

Negan sighed, tilting Lucille over his shoulder. “Well, that’s a goddamn fucking disappointment,” he said, “though I can’t say it’s a surprise. Don’t worry, doll. I can make other arrangements. Now, I’m not gonna have Dwight sleep deprive you or feed you dog food or have my boys rough you up. No, you’ll be comfortable. You’ll have a nice cushy room to yourself and enough to eat… all the pretty things you could possibly want, but you will only go where I say you can when I tell you you can, and it may not be long before you’re beggin’ to be my wife.” That shit-eating grin was back on his face. “And Daryl? Well, I have a feeling as soon as he sees that I can get my paws on you whenever I want, he’s gonna start seein’ things my way.”

And you had to hand it to Negan… it was a good plan. If you and Daryl were switched, it would have worked on you… You’d do anything for him, anything to keep him safe. Anything.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles #negan smith #twd alexandria #the saviors

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dahliarose2 · 1 year

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KINDRED SPIRITS - PART 5

summary: you move forward with the next phase of your plan to get you and daryl out of the sanctuary and out of negan's grasp. as you plot your escape, you find comfort in past memories with daryl

daryl dixon x reader

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

It had been several days since your visit to Alexandria as you faltered for the first time in your plan. You had regained your composure quickly, realizing what was at stake. You had upped your game, making ample effort to show physical and verbal affection towards Negan. Now, you had him wrapped around your finger. not completely or fully, but just enough that you could steer him in the direction you wanted. You hadn't seen Daryl since that trip either. You knew this was probably intentional, Negan clearly getting agitated by your longing stares at one another whenever yous would lock eyes. In all honesty, it made it easier for you to keep your plan in motion. You didn't want Daryl to see you plastering yourself all over Negan,

You felt as though you were betraying him and it broke your heart. You could only hope that he knew your intentions were false and that your whole swooning, loving persona towards Negan was a hoax. Unbeknownst to you, Daryl knew that. He was proud of your resourcefulness though it didn't stop rage flaring in his body every time he had to watch Negan's hands glide over your body like you were a piece of meat. He wished you didn't have to be the one to save the both of yous, but he hadn't tried anything since Dwight had threatened to hurt you. The chances of that happening, especially after Negan's obsession with you, were very slim. But for once in his life, he wasn't taking any chances or any risks. He did the jobs he was forced to do, grateful that he wasn't on walker duty in the yard anymore thanks to your request for him to be moved to indoor work only,

You finished up the final touches of your makeup in the mirror, hearing the door creak open. You whipped your head around to see Negan walking in. "Well hello gorgeous," he teased crudely, as you walked towards him, forcing an overdramatic smile. He took your hand in his, placing a loud kiss on the top of it. You had gotten used to his overly affectionate ways by now, pushing down any disgust you felt by his gestures. "Hey handsome," you replied seductively with a giggle. "I'll be back in a bit," he promised, placing a kiss on your cheek as he began to walk away. You grabbed his hand swiftly, but gently, making him crane his neck to look at you puzzled. "But you just got back from a run," you reasoned, sending him an innocent look,

He strode back towards you, squeezing your hand lightly. "I just have to run a few errands. I'll be back soon angel. I promise," he assured smugly, loving the attention you were giving him. You feared what that meant, your blood running cold, wondering if Daryl was related to those errands at all. You pressed further, placing your hand lightly on his chest. "Can I come with you?" you begged, jutting your bottom lip out for effect. He laughed smugly at your clinginess, taking your other hand on his chest in his other hand, bringing them both to your sides now, making your heart fall slightly at your failed attempt,

"Afraid not, sweetcheeks," he whispered with sympathy in his voice, unsure whether it was genuine or not. Your face fell in disappointment, though it was for a different reason than he thought. "I'll be back soon," he repeated sternly, his impatience growing slightly at your pestering, though his heart still swelled from the insatiable craving you had to be near him, or so he thought. He flashed you an encouraging smile before you called out again. "Wait," you shouted slightly, making him sigh, seeing his head fall forward before he turned around. "I love you angel, but you're getting in the way of my schedule here," he blurted out, slightly frustrated,

Your gaze softened at his agitation, looking to the floor slightly, as he sighed once again, clearly regretting his tone. "I'm sorry, what is it?" he asked gently, as you strolled towards him. "It's nothing really. I just wanted something is all. It's stupid, I know that now," you dismissed with a faint smile, as he only stared down at you, taking your hand in his once again, his gaze more delicate than it was a few moments ago. "Name it," he commands, though there's care there, especially by the way his thumb grazes over your knuckles. "I um, I was wondering if I could have some books," you mumbled under your breath, as he leaned closer to your face, wanting you to repeat yourself louder as you only realized now how silent you had been, him not comprehending your request,

"I uh I was wondering if I could have some books," you said, above a whisper, feeling as though he would laugh at you, but he didn't, although he smiled at you in disbelief at the fact that you had been so scared to ask. "I think that can be arranged. I'll have some brought up to you," he announced cheerily, before picking up Lucille from the hook on the wall, swinging her a few times. "Could I not um look at the selection, pick a few I like?" you queried innocently, still trying to get out of this room, to do something useful, gather intel, take note more of exits, see if his errands included Daryl; anything. But he shook his head quickly. "I'll make sure you get a big selection," he promised, making you sigh internally, but plaster a huge smile on your face externally,

"Thank you," you beamed gratefully, moving to wrap your arms around his neck as he reciprocated the hug, more so than you. "Okay now I really have to go. I'm late," he rambled loudly as you placed your head on his forearm, rubbing it lightly. "You're the man in charge, time starts and stops when you decide," you responded slightly sensually, attempting to fill his ego even more, which you successfully did. He chuckled noisily, nodding his head in agreement. "God I love you. I'll be back for dinner later," he chanted, before exiting the room. You listened, still hearing the lock click. You gazed down defeated, letting your hands run through your hair in frustration. You were getting him to warm up to you and trust you, that you were, but not nearly as much or as quickly as you would like,

You had to wait it out, not rushing it. True enough, a firm, straight-faced Savior wheeled in a trolley, swimming with books. The request for books was half to get out of the room somehow, but the other half of you delighted in the sight. If you were going to at least stay sane through this, you could at least enjoy yourself slightly somehow. You thanked the soldier before they walked out, locking the door once again. Though this time, you didn't care, only rifling through your new collection, scanning the blurbs rapidly. Your favorite thing to do in Alexandria in the free time you had was read, especially on the nights you couldn't sleep. Books had always been your form of escapism, and hell, if there was a ever a more needed time for a distraction, it was now,

You smiled joyfully as you skimmed through the hardbacks and softbacks, deciding on a red leather cover-clad book. You wheeled the trolley to the corner of the room as you practically jumped onto one of the couches, breaking open the novel. This was the most you had felt since you had gotten here. You were alone now, in your own world of books, free from your responsibility and need to manipulate Negan, free from your constant pretending that was becoming exhausting. You were brought back to happy, warm memories; asking whoever was going on a run to bring you back a book if they could, reading stories to Judith as you held her on your knee as she drifted off to sleep, acting practically as the group's indisposable librarian, lending books to people depending on what you thought each of them would like, hearing each of their opinions on the books you had let them borrow. You remembered fondly, one of them in particular from one night in the prison,

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

Daryl had come to fetch you for dinner, finding you in a sprawled heap on the floor, surrounded by books. "Christ, it's like a library in 'ere," he commented gruffly as your eyes darted up to him from where you sat. "I'm organising my books by alphabetical order," you explained with a bright smile, acting like this activity was comparable to winning a shit ton of money. Before he knew what he was doing, he found himself sitting down next to you cross-legged, staring at the seemingly chaos around him with a confused expression. You passed no heed on his puzzled look, continuing to explain. "See I had them organized by year of publication, but I thought that didn't work because-"

Daryl listened to you ramble, unable to take his eyes away from your lips, eyes switching between your lips and your eyes, admiringly. 'What the fuck are you doin'. Stop,' he thought to himself, angry at himself for letting his thoughts run away with themselves. He coughed gruffly as you finished explaining, gazing at him earnestly, suddenly embarassed by your rambling. "This one begins with n," he grunts, picking up one of the books flimsily, as you took it from his grasp. "What?" you exclaimed shocked, "I did K through to P alread-" you began, hastily turning it around to reveal Romeo and Juliet. Your shock disappeared, glancing over at Daryl in bewilderment.

"Daryl, this begins with R," you clarified, pointing your finger at the title. "Nah, begins with N. Nonsense," he asserts gruffly, slight playful smile tugging at his lips. You roll your eyes, smacking him on the head with the book, though it was impossible for it to hurt seeing as it was both a softback and soft hit. He rubbed his head lightly, glaring at you, though there was no malice in his stare as you only laughed at him. "This isn't nonsense," you said with a slight giggle, looking down at the piles of books. "I've read all of these more than once. But everytime I read them, it's still like the first time," you spoke quietly, Daryl now listening to you intently as you talked,

"No matter what happens, I'll always have a book to escape to when things go wry. They help me through the worst of the days, when we lose people," you whispered, your face saddening slightly as you mentioned that fact, remembering the people you all had lost along the way. "Each of these books are a memory. Of someone. Of something. They help me remember them, they help me remember what we've gone through," you continued, as your eyes darted for a moment, picking up a small book in your hand, handing it to Daryl who read the title; 'A Christmas Carol.' "That one reminds me of Lori. Every Christmas, she'd tell me how much she missed homey Christmases. Her, Rick and Carl used to watch that film every Christmas Eve before," you grinned, remembering how you both would reminisce,

Daryl looked at you, nodding as you picked up another, handing it to him once again as he placed down the one in his hand. "Great Expectations by Charles Dickens," you stated with a smile, "Dale used to quote it all the time. Telling us all about how he used to study it in school 'back in the day,'" you grinned, as Daryl inspected the book, gazing at the year it was written before his eyebrows furrowed. "Shit, this is even older than Hershel," he blurted out incredulously as he noticed the year 1861 etched into the cover. You let out a laugh at his statement, as he felt his heartrate quicken as he listened to your sickeningly sweet laugh, heart warming though he couldn't explain why at the time, or why he wanted to listen to you laugh forever and be the source of that laughter,

You stopped your laughing, still smiling sweetly, somehow through your fit of laughter, having moved closer to Daryl, and he to you, as you found the final book, giving it to Daryl. "Princess and The Pea. I used to read it to Sophia every night before-" you breath hitched, as you looked down sadly now, Daryl doing the same as he recalled Sophia in his mind. You sighed softly, composing yourself. "Point is," you spoke gently, "these books help me remember them. The good and the bad." Daryl stayed silent for a few moments, staring at the assortment of novels again. You sat in comfortable silence, now centimetres from one another, but neither of you made any move to move away, which surprised you and Daryl equally, you more so. These moments where his hard exterior fell were becoming more and more frequent now and you couldn't be happier that he was finally opening up,

"They really mean that much to ya?" he asked just above a whisper, though there was no mockery or judgement in his tone as he built the courage to look at you for a moment as you gazed into his eyes with a warm smile, nodding feverishly. He hated how shy he got around you, he couldn't place a finger on why right then and there. Daryl nodded in understanding, his expression compassionate. "Give it here," he grunted out as he scratched the back of his head. You turned to watch him perplexed, cocking your head to the side at his command. "What do you mean?" you asked him pleasantly, confusion evident in your voice. He looked to you for a moment, but appeared to look back down bashfully immediately afterwards. "Well c'mon, I gotta see if this reading shit lives up to your opinion on it. Made it sound so eye-opening 'n all," he said a bit louder than the first time, smirking at you lightly,

Your mouth gaped slightly, but you shook your head, forcing it closed rapidly. You couldn't believe he actually listened to every word you had said in your rambling and raving. You grinned at him brightly, flitting through some of the books, landing on one. "Here," you declared victoriously. giving it to him, lightening pratically sparking in your hands as your fingertips accidentally grazed his as he his hand flinched, pulling back though you weren't surprised nor were you offended, this was the way he had been since you had met him with everyone, though you had to admit you hadn't seen him sit this close to someone,

"Pride and Prejudice?" he asked with a loud scoff as you playfully hit his shoulder. "Don't judge it before you read. That's actually my favorite," you confessed merrily, though he could probably tell based on the extremely broken-in spine and the dog-eared pages, looking slightly tattered. "Fine," he conceded with a sigh, letting his shoulders drop, agreeing to read it. "Yay," you cheered, not able to contain your excitement at convincing him to read something, especially your favorite. You had given it to him in fact because it was your favorite, knowing he wasn't a big fan of romance, but still wondering if he'd read it. Maybe deep down somewhere, subliminally, your dynamic reminded you so much so of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy's,

But that was subconsciously, and you hadn't dug deep enough to know this just yet as you watched him glance through the pages quickly, beaming with pride. "One condition though," he interrupted your internal cheering, gruffly. You gaze at him confused. "I'll read this because you like it. But you have to try something I like. I'm gonna teach you how to fire a crossbow," he states with a smirk, as you smiled at his offer, almost blushing at his forward nature now, his shyness clearly dissipating. "Okay, you got a deal," you agreed dramatically, reaching out to shake his hand as he took it, giving it a firm shake, both of you unable to deny the electricity practically running through your hands as they touched, still in each other's grasp as you stared at one another,

"I uh, I better go put this away before dinner. It's ready by the way" he muttered in a serious, almost timid manner, letting his hand fall from yours in a panic at the fact you had shook hands for slightly too long. You nodded with a grin, as he echoed your expression, before he walked out towards hiw own cell next door to yours, he had chosen that one when yous had moved into the prison, though you dismissed it as it probably being the only one left; little did you know; it wasn't. He had called dibs right after you had picked your cell, though to this day, he wondered why he had made that impulsive decision,

He hated to admit it but he really enjoyed the book you lended him, but if he was honest, he enjoyed it that much more knowing it was your favorite. Immediately after he had finished, you plagued him for his opinion, following him around, accompanying him on tasks around the prison trying to draw out what he thought of it. Again, maybe the fact that it was your favorite compelled you to see what he thought of it. In his usual Daryl Dixon manner, he’d given you virtually the same answer every time, of “it was alrigh’ I guess.” You were growing impatient and restless now,

One task in particular, you were fetching water at the pump in the yard. you held the two empty buckets as he pushed the pump, filling one of the three buckets. You decided if he wasn’t going to share his thoughts, you by sure were going to share yours. You swung side to side, the rusty buckets creaking as you moved. “So my favorite character has to be Elizabeth. She’s just so such a strong female protagonist, you know?” you explained, knowing he wasn’t going to answer that as he continued to push up and down on the pump, sweating a bit,

You continued your rambling, half hoping it would distract you from how good his biceps looked as he moved the heavy lever, flexing his forearms. You hid your blush, continuing to talk. “But now that I say that, I just love Jane. Her relationship with Mr. Bingley is so romantic, I just love-“ you cooed in awe before you were interrupted. “You kiddin’? Mr.Bingley is a blabbering fool. Way too trustin’.,” he answered, before stopping his movements, shaking his head as you cheered, finally getting him to speak about it,

You gasped as he soon realized what he has started. “You like it?” you ask cheerfully. “Yeah I liked it,” he finally let up with a sigh as you clapped your hands together as you passed him the other bucket to fill up. Before he could start pumping, you walked in front of him, fake swooning, throwing your back against his chest, his hand going instinctively on your waist. “Daryl like Pride and Prejudice? I think I may swoon,” you stood in a British accented as he scoffed at your actions,

“Yeah yeah,” he dismissed, ruffling your hair as he pushed you away slightly, making you laugh heartily. “Oh no, Mr. Dixon, I fear my love for you is too much,” you said dramatically, before looking at him, both of you now staring into each other’s eyes as Daryl held the full bucket of water. “Hey! Whatcha doin down there?” you heard Glenn yell from the watch tower. Daryl jumped, dropping the bucket of water to the floor by accident, water spilling everywhere,

You laughed as he looked away embarassed. “Now when you’re filling it again, you can tell me what you thought of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy’s relationship,” you chided, annoying him. He began to pump the water once again. “Oh boy,” he sighed, knowing what he had gotten himself into,

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You felt yourself smile as you looked at the book, tracing the delicate binding with gentle fingertips, relishing in the rough yet smooth feeling of leather under your touch. The golden encrusted title, 'Pride and Prejudice,' shone a little in the sunlight coming in from the window. You opened it with a grin, getting lost in the book, almost forgetting where you were. You must've read for hours as you noticed before long, that the sunlight shining through the window had dimmed, almost disappearing completely by now. You thought to yourself for a moment before you got up, strolling over to the wardrobe to choose a long silk dress to put on, wanting to look good for the next part of your plan you were preparing to complete,

You got ready, putting effort into your makeup as you tidied your hair, before pulling your dress on, smoothing out the soft fabric as you admired yourself in the mirror. You walked back to your place on the couch, sitting down to read a few more pages. After a few minutes, you were brought away from your familiar escape, as Negan trudged into the room, a trolley of food following him. He admired you up and down flirtatiously, in awe of your alluring appearance, whistling loudly. "I don't know if I'm more hungry for you or the food," he teased sensuously, as one of his people wheeled in the tray, setting the table and placing the silver dishes down. Once he had left, Negan tore his leather jacket off, throwing it on the bedspread, before sitting across from you,

You smiled at him, placing your book down beside you. "I see you liked the books," he commented cockily, full of arrogance. You bit your tongue and looked at him, leaning forward in the couch. "Very much so. Thank you," you replied sweetly, in a quiet tone. He winked at you, before digging into his food, you doing the same. He made casual conversation, though none of it seemed to casual to you as he rambled about the run he had just made to one of his outposts he had taken control of and being unsatisfied with their offering. He laughed as he told you how he had killed all of the men on the site, demanding for double the size of the supply next time he decided to show up,

You tried to joke along with him, though you felt lightheaded and ill at his words, how he could do such gruesome things, and sit here and eat a hearty meal, how he could joke about the horrific acts he has committed, and most of all you felt sick to your stomach, wondering if Alexandria would ever receive the same fate. You knew from the recent months and heading out on runs that every spot with 10 kilometres were nearly raided by now, wondering where and how they were ever going to find enough supplies to fulfill his needs and for him to be satisfied. When he had taken you, he had promised you he wouldn't hurt anyone else. And though you had believed him then, you weren't so sure now, you were terrified that your family would suffer. You were no fool, you knew this man only half as well as you wanted to,

You knew from his unpredictability, that you should never be calm in expecting his next move. Negan wasn't the kind of man whose next move could be predicted and you had learned that first-hand many times now. 'Would he break his word,' you worried to yourself, all the while he continued his ranting, not seeming to notice or mind much that your head was clearly elsewhere. You had been wary since you had gotten here, and that's the way you should continue. You knew you had to do something soon. You had to make a move, seeing as you had the advantage being so close to him constantly. You kicked back into action, pushing down the sick, uneasy feeling in your stomach, beginning to joke along with him again to keep him subdued,

"Well it's been a long day, I'm gonna get someone in here to clear this up," Negan announced dramatically, cleaning the sides of his mouth with a napkin, as he stood up broadly, moving to the door to open it, speaking to the Savior who guarded the door. From your spot on the couch, you watched the encounter as he spoke to the Savior, before looking back at the table. Now was your chance. Your heartbeat raced as you looked back over your shoulder once more, seeing Negan's back as he spoke to the armed man. Without another thought, you grabbed the steak knife from your plate, tucking it behind your back, before sitting back normally as you heard his footsteps come closer to you,

A nervous man hurried in, grabbing the plates as his hands shook, Negan glaring daggers into him intimidatingly, beginning to hit his bat against his free hand a few times in an attempt to scare him. "I told you to be ready to pick up this shit when we were finished. That didn't mean to go swinging your dick around as if you don't have a job to do," he yelled as the man struggled to move quicker, fearful of Negan's looming presence, the expensive-looking china fumbling in his shaky grasp. As he leaned over the table, grabbing the dishes, your face came into view as you looked at him sympathetically, attempting to ease and comfort his nerves a little. He tried to smile at you, grateful for your kind gesture, though he was so flustered that it didn't really come across. Once he had finished, he babbled an apology, before Negan nodded once, the man swiftly pushing the trolley out the door at a furious pace, closing the door behind him,

Your eyes were still on the door, worrying about the man, how he had ended up working for Negan, what Negan had done to him and the people he cared about to make him so fearful of him. Negan seemed to notice your distraction as he saw your distressed eyes, filled with melancholy. "Well," he shouted, clapping his hands together, making you jump, "I'm beat. Shall we?" You conceded, nodding your head in response, putting your mask back on, grinning at him. As he turned around, your hand quickly went to the knife behind your back, shoving it in between the skirts of your dress as you walked at a brisk, but unnoticeable, pace to the bathroom,

"Just going to get ready for bed," you told him, adding in a yawn for believability, closing the door behind you as he nodded at you. You pulled open one of the makeup drawers, chucking the knife in, covering it up with the numerous different lipstick shades he had accumulated for you. You took a deep breath, bracing yourself with your two hands on the sink counter as you felt tears well in your eyes, for no reason in particular. You wiped one loose one that fell off your cheek, feeling overwhelmed by this whole thing, trying to not worry about Daryl, your people, yourself. You just wanted to go home, to feel Daryl's warmth again. It had been days since you had seen him and this was on purpose; you knew that,

You fought the urge to be reckless, to take the knife, walk into the bedroom and stab him right now, watch him bleed out. You wouldn't be able to sneak a knife up to him now without him noticing at some point. You closed your eyes, taking another deep breath, trying to stay sane. You didn't want to admit it to yourself, but pretending to be in love with Negan, laughing at the jokes he insinuated about killing people, showing him, a murderer, physical affection; it was all taking it's toll on you. You weren't quite sure who you were anymore and it frightened you. Was this who you were now? Was this who you were all long? Would your friends ever accept you back after what you've been doing; associating with the enemy? Would they believe that it was a ploy to escape? What if it's not a ploy to escape, are you just trying to convince yourself that it is?

You steadied your breathing and your thoughts, focusing on the feeling of the cool marble countertop on your palms, focusing on the sound of the occasional drop of water falling from the tap. You opened your eyes, looking at your face in the mirror. You needed Daryl, you needed to see him. You took a deep breath for a third time. 'You are not like him. You are going to get out of here. You are going to find Daryl. And you are going to go home,' you promised yourself as you nodded, your fleeting moment over now as you got ready for bed as to not raise suspicion and what was taking you so long. You opened the door, walking over to climb in the bed. You repeated the same affirmation from the bathroom over and over again in your head as Negan pulled you close to him, your breath hitching slightly but he didn't realize thankfully. You drifted into a slumber, repeating the same thing over and over. 'You are going to go home, you are going to go home,'

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You woke up slowly, groaning a little at the light shining in at your eyes through the blinds. You heard Negan stirring next to you, as he let out a deep yawn, turning to lie on his side, as you felt a hand carress your shoulder, making your heartbeat quicken. You turned around to gaze at him with a smile. "Mornin'," he whispered groggily, as you uttered a 'morning' back, yawning. Negan got up, getting dressed quickly. "Got a lot on the agenda again today, so I won't be back til later unfortunately. I know you'll miss me. Parting is such sweet sorrow," he drawled in a sing-song voice as he held out his arm dramatically, making you laugh forcibly,

"I'm sure you've got enough books there to keep you entertained, princess," he assures, walking over to where you were sat up in the bed now, placing a loud kiss on your forehead making you cringe internally. In a final attempt to make more progress, you grabbed his hand as he turned away, yanking him back to crash your lips onto his, bringing your hand up to cradle his neck. Again, you repeated the same phrases to yourself, zoning out of what it is you were doing. His eyes blew up in surprise as you pulled away, a timid smile on your face. "Wowee. You're in one hell of a horny mood today aren't cha'," he boomed with a laugh as you blushed, though you really did blush at his crudeness this time,

"See you later, princess. You better be ready for dinner on time," he ordered, half jokingly, half seriously. You nodded enthusiastically as you gave him a wave. You listened as he closed the door, subconsciously crossing your fingers tightly, before not hearing a lock click. You had noticed yesterday that he hadn't locked the door either on his arrival, nor when the dinner was taken away by the skittish man. You smiled brightly, breathing a sigh of relief, before jumping from the bed, rushing to place your ear to the door quietly. You had picked up piece after piece of information since you had gotten here, directions, names of guards, where they kept certain things like artillery, ammo, food, prisoners. Another bit you had noticed as you watched Negan speak with the constant guard at the door of his room, was that he had changed posts at exactly 10pm, after Negan spoke with him, his replacement strolling up at the end of the conversation to take over,

You listened to the guard speak with Negan, making out what they were saying as your eyes darted to the clock, it reading 10am. You hadn't had a proper sleep since you arrived here, constantly either drifting in and out of consciousness or having nightmares, unbeknownst to Negan, who seemed to be a heavy sleeper. A few nights ago, you had heard murmuring outside your door. You cautiously took Negan's arm off your waist, placing it on the mattress as you winced, hoping not to wake him up which you didn't. You got up to check it out, tiptoeing across the room to the door, to hear 2 Saviors outside bickering about the shift changes with one another as they argued. It was then you realized that there was a shift pattern when you looked at the clock and it was 4am, on the dot. You just had to figure out what that pattern was. So you waited. And after last night, when the guard shift changed at 10pm and a bit more observation, you knew they swapped shifts every 6 hours,

Now, you listened to Negan talking with the guard, as your eyes darted to the clock, reading 9:43am. "What do you mean Dwight is gone on a run? Without my permission?" Negan's voice bellowed, interrogating the soldier who sputtered in return, having no answer for him. "He'll be lucky if I don't take his A-list prisoner from him and assign him to someone else. Who's watching Daryl right now?" Negan persisted, clearly frustrated by Dwight taking off out of nowhere. Your breathing hitched for a moment at the mention of Daryl's name, listening extra closely now. "T-the last time I checked, Dwight left him in the cell for the day. He's being guarded," the soldier reassured nervously in Negan's frightening wake,

You heard this and your heart jumped in your chest excitedly. "Make sure Dwighty boy comes straight to me, when he returns from his little escapade," Negan seethed, before speaking again, "matter of fact, I want you at the front gates waiting for him as his little personal welcome committee." His loud voice echoed through the door noisily, with its volume as he hollered. "B-but the next guard won't be here for 15 minutes," he reasoned with Negan, who scarily went quiet for a moment. "Did I ask you to tell me about the shift schedule? Get to the front gate now, your replacement will be here in a few minutes," Negan shouted intimidatingly. You pulled some clothes on quickly, rushing to the bathroom, taking the knife from it's hiding place, rushing hurriedly across the room to the couch where your book lay,

You had 15 minutes give or tale to make this work and get out of this godforsaken stuffy room. You flicked open the book cover, initiating the next part of the plan, one of the reasons you had asked for the books. You took the knife, aggressively cutting through the pages, skillfully creating a shape the resembled the knife. Your fingers fumbled to grab the cut out paper, crumpling it up into a ball, before sprinting to the wardrobe, stuffing it into the pockets of one of the pairs of jeans he had left for you. You closed the wardrobe door, throwing the knife in the now hidden compartment in the book, shutting the cover, knife know enclosed in the novel,

You smiled at your handiwork, rushing to the door, putting your ear to it like you had earlier. When you heard nothing for a few moments, you took a deep breath, placing your hand gingerly on the door handle. "Here goes nothing," you whispered to yourself assuredly, before opening the door, just a crack, seeing the next soldier on guard hadn't showed up just yet as you looked out into the dark, empty hallway. Your goal was not to be seen hiding or cowering, the chances of you making your way through the guarded facility without being seen was unlikely. Instead, you closed the door, rejoicing in the relief of being freer than you had been in days, probably a fortnight by now, since both you and Daryl had been taken,

You straightened your back, crushing any bit of nervousness or worry you felt, walking confidently through the complex towards the stairwell that led down to the prisoner's quarters. You descended the first of two sets, walking down another dank, dark hallway. You peered around the corner, seeing a Savior walk your way holding a rifle in his hands. You halted in your tracks, coming up with a plan on the spot. You waited until he reached the corner, before walking out from you were, straight into him purposefully, as he reeled from the knock, his gun clattering to the floor. You faked falling slightly as you were now crouched slightly. "Oh, I'm so sorry," you apologised profusely, as he brushed himself off,

"It's okay," he replied with a serious expression, mouth upturning slightly to smile. You practically batted your eyelashes at him as his stoic face faltered, becoming a bit nervous. In his bashful state, your eyes darted to the set of keys hanging from a hook on his hip. 'Gotcha,' you cheered in your head, acquiring your target. "How clumsy of me," you joked with a scoff at yourself, leaning down to pick up his gun for him but he beat you to it. "You shouldn't touch that. It's not safe," he asserted, almost with a bit of condescension in it. 'I can shoot a rifle, you idiot. And I'd have that gun off the floor and a bullet between your eyes before you could even blink,' you thought to yourself angrily, but not speaking a word of that to him. He reached to pick up the gun, as he did, the front of the cap he was wearing, obstructed his gaze from you,

You used his distraction to your advantage, swiping the keys easily with reflex in a cat-like manner. You masked your hand moving in the direction, with your hand not entangled with the keys moving to rub up and down his arm, catching him offguard as your other hand piled the keys into your pocket as you both stood from your crouched positions on the floor. You smiled up at him as he reciprocated it. 'Too easy,' you scoffed, before his happy look was replaced with confusion. "You shouldn't be out of your room, Negan said to a few of us that you were under constant supervision. I can escort you back there," he offered calmly, putting his hand out to touch your back to lead you in the direction you came,

You sidestepped his touch, giving a small eyeroll. "You really think I'd be out here without Negan's permission?" you asked innocently, putting slight fear in your tone on purpose. The Savior seemed to contemplate what you said as he stared at you with eyebrows furrowed. "I asked Negan if I could take a walk around the facility. He obliged. I needed some air and a brisk walk, that's all," you continued convincingly. After a few moments of silence, he nodded slightly. "Just make sure you get back to your room safely, at a decent hour," he ordered, but with a small grin. You nodded in agreement, beaming back, before continuing your walk. descending the final set of stairs,

You looked around the corner, looking at Daryl's cell, true enough to the babbling Savior from earlier, being guarded by 1 Savior. You prided yourself on your building blueprints you created in your head, happy that you actually ended up in the right place after your days of observing the directions. 'Okay, you got this,' you assured yourself, 'you're almost there. He's right behind that door.' You took a deep breath, before walking confidently towards the guard. "What are you still doing here?" you questioned with rapid panic in your voice, annoyed tone evident. "What do you mean?" the Savior asked, looking you up and down, wondering the same as your first encounter, as to why you were out of your room,

"Negan wanted you on guard in the communal hall. He sent me to get you on the way back to my room. He's not happy at your tardiness, between you and me," you whispered the last part of you awkwardly, as the soldier begin to shift uncomfortably, clearly worried. "But what about the prison-" he started worriedly, before you waved your hand, dismissing his argument. "Negan said that Dwight is back from his run, he's on his way here right now," you lied, but he seemed to believe everything you were saying, seeing as you knew Dwight was gone on a run. "Okay. I'll wait until Dwight gets here and then I'll go," he states assertively, regaining his strong posture. You got a bit more aggressive, knowing you didn't have much time,

You let out a loud scoff, shaking your head in disbelief, as he looked you confusedly. "I can't believe this. I'm sent to tell you that he's not impressed with your tardiness and failure to show to your correct post, and you want to make him wait even LONGER?" you slightly yelled the last bit, questioning him rhetorically, his fearful face enough to tell you that he knew the answer. His mouth opened and closed as he stood there dumbfounded now. You sighed loudly, throwing your hands up dramatically. "You know what," you spoke, "I'll just go and tell him. I'm sure he'd love to hear thi-" you started, turning around,

"Wait! I'll go immediately," he interrupted hastily, practically running to his 'correct post' in the communal hall. You took the keys out of your pocket, giving them a little toss, catching them in your hand with a jingle, as you smirked at your quick thinking. Your heart raced as you unlocked the door, spotting the small light switch that was turned off purposefully, adding to prisoners' situation being that they were in pitch black all the time. You swung the door open quickly, shutting it behind you quietly, breathing quickening as you saw Daryl's crumpled figure on the floor. He hided his face from the light, his hands shaking slightly as his eyes adjusted to the light, everything blurry for him,

You noticed his struggle, throwing yourself down on the floor beside him. "Daryl," you hurried in an excited tone, watching as his head lifted rapidly, or as fast as he could with his injuries, seeing your face as his eyes practically lit up. Your eyes welled with tears from both the sight of his cuts and bruises, and the wave of relief, happiness, joy or seeing him after so many days of worrying. This was the first time you had been alone since the line-up. Daryl's hand came up weakly to cradle the side of your face, rubbing his thumb against your cheek, wiping your tears away in a reassuring manner. His comforting gesture, despite him being in a world of pain, made your cries intensify as you scrambled to throw your arms around his neck, his other arm know keeping you against his battered body, holding your waist,

You nuzzled your face into his neck, not even caring about crying so much in front of him. It wasn't until you leaned closer to him, that you heard a muffled cry come from him. You jumped. At first, thinking you had hurt him. You pulled away slightly to see his tears, knowing immediately that these were not cries of physical pain. "Oh Daryl," you sighed slightly, your heart shattering into a million pieces, seeing him this broken. You pulled him back into you as he tightened his grip on you, resting his forehead on your shoulder, his one hand still cradling your face, occasionally rubbing up and down. "Is it..." he started shakily, and without even speaking a word; you knew. You brought one of your hands up to his head, pulling him in closer as your other hand rubbed soothing circles on the back of his neck,

"It's me, Daryl. It's real, I'm right here," you whispered comfortingly. He let out a strangled sob now, one he was suppressing for fear that this was all a figment of his imagination. After a few moments, both of your tears had calmed and stopped. "How did you-" he went to ask, slight smile on the corner of his lips now. "Don't worry about that. We don't have much time. I just had to see you. What they did to you," you explained, your voice cracking slightly on the last part, eyes drawn to his wounds again, tears threatening to recommence before he took your hand gently, making you breathe better. He gave you a look that said he was okay, even though you knew he wasn't; none of this was okay. You saw something shine in your periphary as you looked over, seeing a tattered polaroid photo, lamination shining in the light of the shitty lightbulb hanging from the ceiling,

Your eyebrows downturned in confusion as you reached to grab it to look at it. As soon as Daryl found where your gaze was now looking, he grabbed the side of your face, turning it towards you so quickly you thought you would have whiplash. Your eyes darted, looking at his features, trying to understand him. "No," he said scared, voice slightly raised, in the moment, though his voice was even deeper than normal due to his lack of hydration. "I-I don't understand," you whispered scared, wanting to know what had him so scared. It was then you noticed the tremble in both his cold hand holding your cheek and his facial features that looked ready to cry again,

You brought you hand up to grab his wrist, trying to steady his hand as your eyes begged for him to tell you what was wrong. "Dwight, he-he gave it to me. It's a picture of Glenn," he explained, voice faltering at the last sentence. By his upset, you knew what the picture entailed. Your heart broke, as you felt sick again. You couldn't believe he had to look at it, wondering in disbelief how to even comprehend how someone could do something like Dwight had done. You breathed in and out quickly for a minute, before calming yourself, forcing your tears back down. "I'm gonna get us out of here. Soon. Sooner than you might think. I promise," you assured, as he listened to you speak, nodding at your statement, still feeling useless for the fact that you had to save the two of yous, not him,

His whole life, his whole worth, was built upon him being a fierce protector, of himself, of his feelings, of his family most importantly. And here you were, risking your life, just to come see him. He gazed at you in awe. "How?" he asked. "Doesn't matter how," you replied slightly defensive, before giving him a smile. "I have to go, but sit tight," you hurried to get up a bit, still crouched down. He smiled back at you, in a way that made your stomach flutter. You hesitated for a moment, before you leaned down holding either side of his head, giving him a soft loving kiss on his forehead as you could've sworn you saw him blush. You gave him one last grin as you turned the light off, shutting and locking the door quickly, before storming up the stairs,

You chucked the keys on the stairs, staging a 'dropped their keys' moment as you made your way back to your room, hating to go back there, especially upon seeing Daryl. You looked around the corner at the guard standing in front of your door. You panicked, not having thought this part of your plan through. You thought quickly, glancing around for something to answer your silent prayers. Your eyes landed on the beaded bracelet on your hand. You pulled it off, breaking the string to take a few beads off, shoving the remainder of the bracelet into your pocket. You took one of the balls throwing it across the floor, letting it ping slightly off the floor, as the guard's eyebrows furrowed, looking around for the source of the noise, the bead too small to see,

You waited before you sent a second one down the hallway, as the Savior huffed, annoyed, glancing around once again. For a third time, you threw another bead, watching as the Savior walked away from the door, stepping carefully further down the hallway, as you tiptoed quickly towards the door, looking around the next corner in the hallway to see the back of the guard, stepping quietly to open the door, and slip inside, closing it as softly as possible. You waited a moment, hearing silence, before your back hit the door, breathing out the breath you had been holding in the entire time. Your forehead sweated slightly at the adrenaline rush,

Finally, you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to smile. You had done it. You had seen Daryl. You thought about his face, reminiscing on the hug, wishing you were in his embrace again. You were nearly there. 'You are going home soon,' you promised yourself once again as you moved to the couch to sit down, smirking, ready to complete the next phase of your escape

PART 6 POSTED ON MY MASTERLIST (IN BIO) ;) hope you enjoyed <3 let me know if you want to be added to the taglist. this chapter summarized is basically 'gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss'

TAGLIST: @onlyheretoread2 @lothiriel9

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #twd #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead fanfiction

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