Simon x Fem! Doctor! Reader

Warnings: Language, Blood, Injury.

A/N:I’ve updated my masterlist so now all the Doc and Simon fics are categorized together. There were just so many that it seemed best to do it that way! Reminder: the Doc and Simon fics aren’t technically part of a series, but a few of them do reference each other.

Word Count: 3.0k

“Does that surprise you?”

There had been quite a buzz going around The Sanctuary for the last few weeks. There was talk and whispers about the new doctor that had been welcomed aboard Negan’s kingdom of Saviors, and how everyone was relieved to finally have medical care back at The Sanctuary. The Sanctuary’s previous doctor hadn’t met Negan’s expectations (for lack of a better explanation) and he had been dealt with promptly. Negan didn’t have a replacement on deck, and there wasn’t anyone at The Sanctuary that was qualified enough to act as an interim medical doctor. 

The Sanctuary went far too long without someone with a professional, medical background. Saviors were dropping left and right, because without someone who really knew what they were doing to patch people up – there were going to be unresolved illnesses and injuries. The Saviors were getting crafty with treating themselves, and it was beginning to get dicey. Without proper medical care, they were prone to infections and unsterile environments that would make a mild injury something much more serious. Negan was desperate for a doctor, because he couldn’t afford for his people to keep dropping the way that they were. 

To be honest, Negan wasn’t really sure where the hell you came from. Negan didn’t really know where most of his Saviors came from. Most of them were already at The Sanctuary when he arrived, and some of them just kind of wandered in and became part of the clan. You, though, were hand delivered to Negan. 

Negan couldn’t help but be surprised when Davey, one of Negan’s most resourceful saviors, escorted you into his “conference room” with a proud smile on his face. 

“Boss, we might’a found a doctor for you.” Davey had said.

Negan’s face lit up like a noon summer sky at those words. You were an opportunity to be The Sanctuary’s saving grace, and you were the answer to about 30 of Negan’s problems. Negan had turned on his unmistakable charm then, because he needed to convince you to stay.

Correction: Negan had to convince you to stay.

Negan had personally shown you around The Sanctuary, explaining the ground rules and the do’s and don’ts that he had set into place. He had shown you where your room would be, and it was a clean, nice sized room that was honestly more like a small apartment than a bedroom. He spent extra time in the infirmary, allowing you to look around and get a sense of your work environment. It was actually an impressive exam room given the current worldly conditions. With a little bit of work and a bit of a woman’s touch, you could have this place full operational in no time. 

There wasn’t any fine print with Negan’s job offer. He said that you’d be the only medical assistance in the whole place, and that the workload was going to be hefty. Negan explained the dire situation that The Sanctuary was in now and (to directly quote Negan) “they were really damn fucking desperate” for a doctor. 

There were hundreds of Saviors after all, and with the kind of work that they had to do to keep this place running – it was no doubt that you were going to have your hands full. Negan also told you that you were going to have to tag along on supply runs when necessary, specifically the ones that were more accident prone. Even with knowing that, you were confident that you could make it all work. 

It was an enticing offer, and you would’ve been lying if you had said that it wasn’t the kind of opportunity that you had been longing for. You missed being in practice, and the thought of not having to brave this world alone anymore in and of itself was enough for you to say yes. 

Sure, Negan’s rules were pretty stupid and really only self-serving to him. At the end of the day though, putting up with a few sketchy rules beats having to barely scrape by with your life every day. So, you said yes, and you were put into effect immediately. 

Your first official day was a breeze. You spent most of it familiarizing yourself with the medical supply closets and with the infirmary to get a sense of how you wanted to rearrange it to be more functional. You had a few Saviors come by, most of them were just genuinely friendly Saviors that had heard the breaking news of your arrival, and they were popping in to say hello. It was nice to be welcomed the way that you were, and it was even better to be needed. However, you might’ve been a tad too quick to wish for that kind of necessity, because your second day was a hurricane compared to the first. 

From the moment you entered the infirmary to the time you walked out, there was a Savior in your presence in need of medical attention. Some of them were pretty minor, but still worth taking a look at. A few of them, though, actually tied you up for more than an hour or so. Negan hadn’t been kidding – this was in serious need of a doctor. The days to follow in the next few weeks followed that same pattern. You were strung out from the moment you showed up in the morning until the moment you sent the last Savior on his/her way at the end of the day. It was tiring, but it didn’t take you long to fall into a healthy rhythm.

However, you did notice as the weeks went on that the visits you were getting were becoming less dire – both because you had caught up with the injuries and now everybody knew that there was a new doctor in town.

That was one teeny tiny detail that Negan didn’t mention was the lack of women at The Sanctuary. The men outnumbered the women by an embarrassingly large number, and all of the “eligible” women that were present were off limits due to Negan’s wife rule (which you found out through Arat, who had come by to get a poison ivy rash looked at on her arms). You hadn’t been at The Sanctuary long enough to receive one of Negan’s infamous marriage proposals, which meant that you (on a technicality) were on the market.

When the word was fully spread that the newest Savior was a single, non-Negan taken woman – it was game on. It was a competition of sorts, and it didn’t take you very long to figure out what was going on. Suddenly, Saviors were coming in for the smallest of ailments all the way from unstoppable hiccups to a leg cramp from three days before. They were coming up with anything they could to get the chance to even merely speak to you, and then ultimately make a move on you. Some were more forward than others – the nicer ones you had politely declined and the more aggressive ones you had told to piss off. This went on for weeks, and it was beginning to get maddeningly annoying.

Some of the Saviors that you turned down got the message the first time, and only smiled kindly and left you at peace. Others were more stubborn, and a few even came back for multiple attempts. It seemed that they just couldn’t take no as an answer, and by the time your first month at the Sanctuary had passed, you were confident that you had met and seen every Savior for one reason or another that The Sanctuary had to offer.

All except for one. 

You had shooed Richie out of the infirmary after his second attempt that week to sway you, kicking him out with a string of colorful language directed towards him. It seemed that the more you said no, the harder that the rejected Saviors tried. You were going to have to come up with something, because this was beginning to really drive you nuts. Not only were all of these empty visits useless, but they caused you to have to fill out a new form each time. Negan was nosy, and he liked for you to have forms made for each visit and then turned in at the end of the day. He said it was for “inventory tracking purposes”, but it was really just because Negan didn’t want anything slipping by undetected. 

You sat in your wheeled stool with a heavy sigh, rubbing at your forehead as you used your free hand to write down the details of Richie’s “ongoing ankle pain” that was by far the worst excuse that he had come up with yet. Your scribbling on the paper paused when you heard a pair of heavy footsteps approach from down the hall and stop in the infirmary’s open doorway. Your head fell back slightly in annoyance, and you fired off an irritated greeting without even turning around to see who it was.

“Todd, I swear to God if you’re here again about your bullshit allergy headache then I don’t want to hear it.” You growled, looking back down at the sheet that was resting on a book that was propped in your lap.

The man answered, but it was an unfamiliar voice – and one that did not belong to anyone that you knew.

“Well that’s no way to treat a first timer, is it?” The voice remarked.

You quickly spun around in your chair, suddenly alarmed at the new presence. Most definitely, you had not expected to see Negan’s right-hand man standing at the doorway. A grin was spread on his face, amusement plastered over his features at your rather rude reaction.

You had heard all about Simon. You knew he was second in command, and Negan’s most trusted Savior. Even though no one had outright said it, you had put the pieces together that Simon did most of Negan’s dirty work. In your craze of trying to get settled and fighting off persistent suitors, you hadn’t been allowed the chance to meet Simon yet. 

“Oh, Simon! I’m sorry, I….I honestly wasn’t expecting you.” You admitted, a hot flush flooding through your cheeks.

“Most people don’t.” He replied, and based on his most beaming smile – you anticipated that you’d be adding Simon to your list of slimy men trying to get a quick trip into your pants. 

You stood from your chair, motioning for him to take a seat on the exam table. He obliged, sitting on the table and waiting patiently for you to get a new form started. 

“I would introduce myself, but it seems as if you’ve already been given the rundown on me.” Simon said.

You had to admit, you could already tell that Simon had more personality than most of the other Saviors. 

“I have. I think that’s to be expected of someone in such high standing as you undoubtedly are,” You couldn’t help but smile, setting the rest of his form to be filled out after you looked him over. “I get the feeling that you’ve already heard quite a bit about me as well – but for formality, I’m [Y/N].”

“Simon,” He returned the cheek. “I’ve heard a few whispers about you. You seem to be in good standing with the boss man so far.”

“Well thank God for that, right?” You said sarcastically.

Simon chuckled at that, and you didn’t waste any more time getting to the point. Simon had visible charisma. You were intrigued just by looking at him. He carried himself so prominently and confidently, but he wasn’t intimidating – not to you, at least. Something was different about him, but you weren’t quite sure what it was.

“So, what are you here for? Paper cut? Mosquito bite? My hand in marriage?” You questioned.

Simon’s brows knitted together quizzically, and he was hesitant with his answer.

“None of those?” He held up his left hand to reveal that it was wrapped in a bloody shirt, and there was an apparent nasty injury underneath. “You have quite the bedside manner, Doc.”

You immediately felt bad for heckling him like that, and you shifted your demeanor. 

“Oh, fuck. You’re actually hurt.” You announced out loud, although it was meant to be a non-verbal thought.

“Does that surprise you?” Simon laughed again. 

You turned to the sink, scrubbing your hands and under your nails to get them clean to examine him properly. 

“Well, no….but kind of. I have to admit that I’ve had several hoaxes in the last several days.” You explained, drying your hands thoroughly. 

“Ah. Has the endless hassling already begun? Usually happens when we get a new lady on board.” Simon replied. 

“It’s been constant,” You ranted, mainly because Simon seemed as if he’d genuinely listen. “I get the pickings are slim, but-”

“It’s annoying.” Simon finished your sentence with a knowing smirk as you walked over to stand in front of him.

“Painfully,” You agreed, changing the conversation a bit. “How did this happen?”

The sleeves of your shirt were bunched up at your elbows as you pushed them back – followed by you snapping on a pair of latex gloves. You began to unwrap the t-shirt from Simon’s hand to reveal his injury. Sure enough, Simon had a gory slice from the bottom right corner of his palm that went diagonal to the other side. It was a deep cut, and it wasn’t something that needed to go unattended. 

“Got caught on a jagged part of the fence. Usually it’s my pants, but this time my hand got the treatment.” Simon told you.

His voice lowered an octave or so when he spoke, and it sent a rush of tingles down your core. He had an odd effect on you, one that you hadn’t experienced with anybody else before. You held his hand in both of yours, looking over it carefully. He had large, strong hands that made yours look petite. He had a few veins that ran on the top of his hands, and calluses on the pads of his hands. None of this was surprising, considering that pretty much all of Simon’s work was very hands-on.

His injury wasn’t anything life threatening by any means. You could have it cleaned up, stitched, and wrapped in no time. Simon watched you as you intently and carefully looked over his palm. He found it endearing the way you were so focused and skilled. 

“Well, I can get you fixed up. No problem,” You told him, with a smile. “You have time to spare?”

“I’ve got all the time in the world.” Simon grinned again.

You wanted to be sure to do the stitches slowly and correctly to give him the best chance of it healing correctly and without a noticeable scar. Simon must’ve had a bit of a queasy stomach, because he looked everywhere but his hand. The two of you chatted while you worked on getting him stitched up, and the longer that the two of you talked – the more comfortable you became. 

He was an interesting guy. Simon wasn’t like anyone else here. He talked to you instead of at you. He asked just as many questions about you as you did about him. He was genuinely interested in getting to know you. You found that admirable, and to be honest – you already liked him.

“I have to say, you’re much nicer than when I first walked in.” He announced.

“I really am sorry about that. I swear I’m not that dismissive as a doctor,” You explained. “I just thought you were another one of those.”

“I get it. I know how the male population around here tends to act,” Simon remarked. “I’m not one to make excuses on others behalf, but most of them really don’t mean anything by it.”

“Well, I just hope that their attempts don’t get any worse.” You sighed, finishing the last of Simon’s stitches.

“Believe it or not, Negan won’t stand for that. If you tell him, he’ll handle it.” Simon suggested.

That was hard for you to believe. You doubted that Negan was going to step in to help you fend off sexually frustrated Saviors. Negan didn’t seem like the type to stand up for a woman that wasn’t his – but it was at least worth a try. 

Simon did watch as you wrapped his hand, layering and bandaging it to protect the new stitches. Normally, you never minded when people watched you work. It was their body after all, and you understood the curiosity to know what was happening. For some reason, you were overly aware that Simon was watching – and you were extra cautious to keep your movements perfect.

“What’s the verdict, Doc? Do you think I’ll make it?” He joked as you were finishing up, and his smile sent a chill down your back.

“Oh, I think you’ll make a full recovery. Come back in a few days so I can check the stitches and rewrap your hand,” You instructed. “Just keep it clean and rest that hand. It’ll be good as new in a few weeks.” 

“Sweet,” He beamed. “Thank you for the help.”

You finished wrapping his hand, and took a few steps back to allow him room to get up.

“Anytime. That’s what I’m here for.” You returned a smile, sliding your gloves off and throwing them out.

Simon didn’t immediately leave. He had a certain glimmer in his eyes as he looked at you. He stood on his feet as if he wanted to say something, but was hesitant to. You wanted to know what he wanted to say, because something told you that you’d be happy to hear it. 

“I’ll see you around, yeah? Hopefully I’ll see you more often,” Simon charmed, changing his original thought. “Now that we’re acquainted and all.”

Your face went red-hot. He was flirting. He was totally flirting, and you were loving every second of it. There was something different about him, and something was stirring inside that you weren’t used to.

“Of course. You know where to find me.” You returned, giving back the same energy.

Simon’s smile was much more seducing and it had knowingness written all over it. He bid you farewell and exited the infirmary – leaving you speechless and wanting more. Maybe it was a hunch or just a damn good intuition….

But Simon was going to be the start of something wonderful.

Trinkets (Glenn Rhee x Platonic!Reader)

You collect items from significant points during the apocalypse.

TW: mention of suicidal thoughts and description of gore under the cut!

The first thing you ever collected was a pebble. It was the smoothest pebble you had ever seen, its shape so symmetrical you felt a compulsion to slide it into your pocket to treasure forever. It became a comfort to stroke it’s smooth surface, to calm your racing heart whenever you were nervous. It reminded you of a time when all of this had begun, and you were alone until he sat besides you.

There was a slight chill in the air. You tugged your jumper closer to your chest, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine. From here you could smell the acidic smoke drifting from the fire at camp; you couldn’t face them today. They were all laughing, chatting mindlessly as if they weren’t plagued with nightmares over what had transpired over the past few weeks. Nearly everyone sitting around that campfire had someone from their life before, someone they could trust and confide in, and those that didn’t had settled in so well it’s like they’d always been there.

You had no one.

You never settled in or found an old friend or family member by the craziest of coincidences. Just like always you could only rely on yourself. Sometimes that wasn’t enough. Sometimes when the memories of blood and gore become too much your body craves the familiar comfort of being pulled into an embrace, the weight of their body against yours enough to distract you for a precious few minutes. Here though? No one here had the power to do that, the fleeting touches of strangers only adding to your anxiety and not soothing.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you rested your hands behind you, feeling the pinch of the pebbles beneath as you looked up at the night sky. If there was one perk of the end of the world, it would be the way the stars shone so bright. Up there, there were galaxies and civilisations that you could only dream of. You weren’t even looking up at the stars in real time, the light taking so long to reach earth that you were a mere observer to history by simply looking up. You felt like those stars. Caught up in the past and trying to focus on the present, and failing miserably.

“Hey.” A voice broke you out of your stupor. You jumped, spinning around to have your heart rate calm when you realised it was Glenn. He was one of those that had arrived at the camp alone, his friendly nature allowing him to integrate into the group dynamic with ease. You envied him for that.

Meekly, you responded. “Hi.”

“You should come by the fire, it’s chilly out tonight.” You noticed how Glenn was shuffling on his feet, gesturing a hand behind him to the fire.

“I’m fine.” Your body took that moment to betray you. A visible shiver rocked your body.

“Okay… just know we’re here if you need us.” You heard the faintest of sounds, almost like a zipper being undone. A soft fabric fell into your lap. It smelt strongly of Glenn. You looked up at him; he merely shrugged.

This act of kindness brought a thin sheen to your eyes. This interaction was the first in a long time to remind you of what it was like to have a connection to someone, and for the briefest of blips, you were able to live in the present. Before you could help it, the words fell out of your mouth. “Stay.”

“Are you sure?”

A weak smile curved onto your lips. You had isolated yourself from the group, terrified of reliving the pain of the past, but in doing so you made yourself even more miserable. Maybe you did need a friend. “Just because I’m alone doesn’t mean I have to be lonely.”

He walked towards you. He stood close enough you could feel his body heat: you relished in it, feeling it warm your cold bones. “You’re not alone, you have us.”

His presence was slowly warming both your body and soul. For the first time since arriving at the quarry, you felt included.

As you’d patted the ground beside you, your hand fell on the pebble.

The second thing you collected was the tiniest, most delicate of feathers. It was a muted brown, having fallen off a chicken at Maggie’s farm. It had begun to fray with time yet you still held onto it as if it was made of gold.

You stood by the chickens and the hens, watching them chirp with a distant smile on your face. They reminded you of before.

“Would you like to feed them?” Maggie’s voice interrupted your day dream. You jumped five feet into the air. “Sorry, I just noticed you watching them. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

You nodded.

“Let me grab you some chicken feed, I’ll be right back.” Maggie dipped away from your line of sight. You returned to gazing at the chickens with a lazy smile on your face.

Maggie came back quickly, two baskets in hand. She passed you one, showing you to spread the feed near the chickens. You fell into a pattern of sharing the feed, enjoying the joyful clucks the chickens made.

“Can I ask you a question?” You nodded your head. “Your friends with Glenn, right?”

You thought back on your memories of him. Sitting under the stars at the quarry to help you feel more relaxed, him saving your life as a walker was about to rip into you when the camp was overrun, and how he comforted you when the incessant beeping of the timer attacked you at the CDC. As a group you had all been through a lot; Glenn was always there. He sensed your nervousness, your fear, and he could make it melt away with just a funny comment or a smile. Friend felt like a strange term to use for someone you classed as family.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Why is he such a prick?”

You froze, frowning. “He’s one of the kindest people I know.”

“Nice people can be pricks too.”

“Has something gone on?” Maggie stayed silent, her gaze fixed onto the chickens. You sighed. “He might have done a prick-ish thing, whatever it is, but I can tell you he is not a prick.”

“Good to know.”

“Do you like him?”

“Excuse me?”

“I see the way you look at him, Maggie, it’s kind of obvious.”

“Of course I like him. Why does it matter to you?”

“Because if you do, I need to give the "you ever hurt my friend” speech.“

"Save your breath.”

Maggie turned to leave, you placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “What you two have is good. Please don’t throw it away.”

She left. As odd as it sounded, it was nice to be involved in a drama that didn’t involve walkers or blood shed.

You stayed by the chickens for a while, thriving in the normality of it all. The farm felt like it was frozen in time, taken from before things truly hit the fan. The chickens were clucking happily amongst themselves.

You felt a presence move besides you. From the corner of your eye you saw Glenn leaning against the chicken coup, looking down. Something was dripping off of his jaw.

“I’ve fucked up.” Glenn whispered, head bowed low.

Concern flooded you. The chickens long forgotten, you turned to focus all of your attention on Glenn, unable to hold back your gasp. His hat was damp, and what you had mistaken as sweat was a yellow liquid slipping down his face.

“What the hell happened?” You took his face in your hands, swiping the liquid away with a thumb. He shied away from your touch.

“Maggie cracked an egg on my head.” You opened your mouth to protest; before you could, he interrupted you. “I deserved it.”

“Is everything okay between you two?”

Glenn took a deep breath, setting his jaw. “I saw something I shouldn’t and now I’m worried for the group. For all of us.”

“I’m assuming it has to do with Maggie?”

“I saw her family, Y/N. I saw her brother and…”

“Aren’t they dead?” Glenn made no effort to confirm what you knew. The pieces started to fall into place as you realised Glenn was trying to tell you that the Greene family were hiding walkers on the very farm you took refuge on. As much as you wanted to be angry, you couldn’t help the squeeze of your heart. Having lost all of your family in the early days, you could relate. You imagined this was them holding onto hope for a cure.

Reaching out, you squeezed Glenn’s shoulder reassuringly. “What are you going to do?”

“What do you think I should do?” He was looking at you as if you held all of the answers. Since you two had become friends, you couldn’t remember a single time he had asked for your help. He was smart and resourceful, seeming to know everything. As much as you wanted to help him, all you could do was shake your head.

“Glenn…That’s not my choice to make.”

“You’re not going to tell anyone?”

“Only if you don’t want me to.”

Glenn seemed to sag in relief. In a voice so small you had to strain to hear him over the chickens, he confided. “I don’t know what to do.”

“No matter what, I support your decision.” You bumped him with your hip. “I think you definitely need to shower.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Glenn took his hat off of his head, spinning it around in his hands. “My hats ruined, isn’t it?”

“We can get you a new one.”

“No… I think I’ve grown out of it.”

You took the hat from his hands, turning it around. A glimpse of brown caught your attention. You inspected it further, making out the tiniest of quills. A small laugh slipped past your lips.

As delicately as you could, you pulled the feather out of the hat.

The third item you collected was a torn page of a book. It looked like it had been from a self help book, the advice cut off as the page ended. There was one line underlined three times in pencil.

Glenn lingered by the cell door, rapping his hands against the iron railings. You turned your head towards him, a tired smile on your lips.

“What?”

“Wanna help clear the fence?” A spare knife was already in his hand, outreached towards you. Groaning, you threw your head against the pillow.

“I’m guessing that’s not a suggestion.”

“It’s pretty bad out there and I need company.”

“Ugh,” you climbed out of the bed, moving out of the cell. You jokingly knocked his shoulder with yours. “You owe me.”

“Yeah, sure.” He rolled his eyes, pushing your arm and sending a teasing smile your way.

“Is there a reason you’re asking me and not your girlfriend?”

“I miss my best friend.”

His words made your heart warm. While it had taken you some time to settle into the group like you had once envied him for, you were closest to Glenn. He had supported you, and you had supported him, more times than you could count. “Aw, I’m your best friend?”

“Well, there’s not exactly a lot of choice.”

Mocking offence, you kicked the back of his leg. He slightly tripped, turning around to give you a playful glare. “Oh fuck off.”

His words played on your mind as you methodically drove the knife into the walkers, watching them drop to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. It was the first time he had admitted out loud that he was your best friend, and all you had done was hit him. While it was something you both knew, it felt different hearing the words proclaimed out loud. Oh god, you thought to yourself, I’m a terrible friend.

“Glenn?”

“Hm?”

“You’re my best friend too.”

“Really?” He said breathlessly, pausing from killing the walkers. He was turned towards you and now you could feel the nerves bubbling in your gut. You had convinced yourself you wanted to tell him everything, and now your anxiety was sky high. Before you could think too much into it, you started to speak.

“Yeah, really. No one else tried as hard as you to help me fit in. I never told you, but at the CDC… I thought about it. For a split second I wanted to stay in that room with Jacqui and Jenner. The dead were walking, my family were dead or nowhere to be found and everything I knew had been turned upside down. But then you held me as I cried, and you fought to get out. I realised I had to get out for you.”

“I… I never knew that.”

Your head was bowed, words almost lost to the groans of the walkers. “I was ashamed.”

“There’s no shame in wanting to give up.” Glenn wiped the sweat from his brow. He turned to face you, his face the most serious you had ever seen it. “You got back up, Y/N. I’m proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you too.”

Glenn reached towards you, wrapping you into a hug. You were enveloped in the scent of sweat and dirt but it was his scent. He held you so tightly you could feel the imprint of Hershel’s watch pressing into your hip but you didn’t care.

A loud animalistic growl made you both jump. Pulling out of the embrace, you both resumed trying to clear the fence. Time seemed to fly by as your arms grew steadily more tired and your back felt as if it was burning under the Georgian heat. The grip you had on the knife was slick. All of the undead blurred into one, until a certain walker caught your attention.

“Oh my god Glenn, look at this.” You gestured to a walker pawing at the fence. Nothing seemed abnormal until you looked at their chest, where a page had been pinned. One line in the book had been underlined.

The person that can help you is you.

Besides the underlined quote, a note was scribbled. “This is your sign to carry on.”

You could imagine some poor soul pinning the note to the walker’s chest. You imagined that walker falling on top of you, your arms weak, contemplating relaxing your arms for just a moment long enough to be torn apart. But then you’d see those words. You wanted to believe that someone placed that note there to save other people, it might have been the person who had turned, to provide a light when the world succumbed to the darkness.

Glenn plucked the page off of the walker’s chest, batting aside it’s probing hands. He handed it to you, a small smile on his face.

You rubbed the pebble, methodically stroking it’s smooth surface. The sensation brought you a sense of calm. It was so dark inside of the container you could barely see your own hand in front of your face. The hard floor provided a strange comfort as the trinkets in your back pocket pressed into you.

Things had changed rather quickly.

You never realised how fast you could go from having a group, to having no one. The prison fell, and in the chaos you didn’t see a single living soul. You could only pray that if any others survived, they didn’t follow the train tracks like you had.

Sanctuary for all, what a crock of bullshit.

You had fought viciously to get here, fending off walkers, the elements, mother nature and the nature of man. You were so relieved to see the Terminus sign that you ignored the feeling in your gut, and now you were sitting in container D, waiting along with your other captives for god knows what.

If there was one small mercy, it was that they didn’t take your collectibles. They had no use for a pebble, a feather and a loose page. They hadn’t hesitated to strip you of your hat and jacket.

A thudding sounded on the roof of the container. You didn’t even flinch as a gap in the roof appeared, a metal canister falling to the floor. You’d been here too many times to know what this meant.

The Termites entered the container, snatching at two men with you. You kept stroking the pebble, hoping they would walk right past you.

They walked towards you.

Dread filled you. There was safety of the unknown inside this container; but out there? You had been here long enough to know that the prisoners who left here didn’t return.

You swallowed your fear, fixing them with the coldest stare you could until the bag was thrown over your head. You were pulled harshly to your feet. You tried to thrash out of their grip but there was no use. You cupped the pebble so tightly in your hand you could feel your fingernails digging into your palm.

You were dragged for what felt like miles. You kept tripping over your feet. You found yourself hoping that you would always be walking, and never reach the destination that you were certain was going to be your death bed.

They threw roughly to the floor. You fell to your knees, the cool floor freezing you to the bone. In one swift movement the bag was ripped from your head.

The first thing you saw was grey. The room could only be described as grey. Grey trough in front of you, grey floor, grey walls. A table towards the back of the room was grey; the thing on top was not. You couldn’t hide your shock as you saw the body sat atop it, a leg missing.

The dots connected.

You were being held captive by cannibals.

You tried to swallow your fear. It felt like you were choking.

Four bodies were brought in besides you. You focused on them to distract yourself from the bubbling panic filling your veins. The bags were removed, your heart both soaring and sinking.

How ironic, that you would reunite in such dire circumstances.

At the same time you recognised them, they recognised you. Glenn sat besides you, his eyes wide with fear at your dejected state. Rick, Daryl and Bob were sat besides him, all gagged and bound like you were.

You tried to muster a smile, struggling to fight past the fabric tied around your mouth. All they did was stare at you, dumbfounded to have found a friend in this hell hole.

The first swing of the bat. At first you were confused, eyes following the sound. The man brought from your container was slumped over. The next moment, they had him pulled upright, slitting his throat.

You were transfixed by the red filling the trough in front of you. It never stopped. The man next to you started to panic, his worries quickly silenced with the swing of the weapon. His blood sprayed on your cheek as they slit his throat.

You felt a presence behind you.

It was at the minute you had the rushing realisation you were the next victim. Your body started to shut down. Memories of your life flashed before your eyes - the joys from before the apocalypse, eating ice cream at the beach and riding a bike until the sun dipped below the sky. They quickly transitioned to memories where the dead walked - you forced yourself to look beyond the bad, thinking about the day you made a friend under the starry sky, how he confided in you besides a chicken coup, and how he held you so tight when you revealed your moment of weakness.

Glenn was squirming beside you. If he wasn’t gagged you knew he would be screaming. You couldn’t muster the energy to try to resist. This was it.

You forced yourself to be brave. You didn’t want to be weak in front of your friends. You hoped with all of your heart that they would be able to escape this hell and make it burn to the ground. You sat with your back rod straight, staring defiantly at the Termite’s lingering around the room. The only indication of your fear was your shaking hands, your thumb seeking that pebble.

You looked at your best friend one last time, feeling the whoosh of the bat.

As more red filled the trough, a pebble, a feather, and a loose page fell to the floor.

the walking dead masterlist

Let’s Go Home (The Walking Dead x Reader)

Inspired by the gym scene in All of Us Are Dead, you get cornered in a storage closet by walkers, devising a plan that will have disastrous consequences. TW: graphic description of blood, gore and death.

All of Us Are Dead spoilers below the cut

The rain was thrashing down. The mud beneath your feet was making your steps unsteady yet you were still powering on. The moans of the undead behind you were relentless, acting as your adrenaline as you propelled yourself further on weak legs. Your legs were burning, the makeshift weapon in your hand swinging wildly by your side. Your breaths were leaving you in large huffs but you still pushed yourself faster, forcing your legs to carry you to the glass doors of the gym.

Rick and Daryl were at the front of the group. Sliding through the mud, they clambered up the steps to the doors, ripping them wide open and ushering everyone inside. You all filed into the shelter, leaving muddy tracks behind you as you stepped into the gym, the dreadful weather outside casting little light into the room. You collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. Your lungs felt as if they were on fire. Each inhale was adding to the growing inferno.

“That was close.” Glenn sighed a laugh, sharing a nervous glance with you. You mirrored the action, unable to muster the strength to speak. It felt nice to stop for a moment, your body thanking you for the moment of respite.

“Maybe we can stay here for a…” Rick’s words trailed off as lightning struck. The sudden light lit up the room, giving you all a snapshot of the horror show you had just walked into.

The gym was crawling with walkers.

Your heart stopped in your chest. You prayed that if you stayed still and quiet they wouldn’t notice you; all hopes were dashed as the moment you locked eyes with them, they seemed to look at the group.

Any sense of relief you’d experienced disappeared in a flash. In an instant you were on your feet, kicking the walker closest to you. It tumbled to the ground, giving you enough time to fall behind the rest of the group as they piled into a storage closet, the door slamming shut behind you.

You pressed your back into the door, feeling the shake of the walkers. You grunted with the pressure. You stumbled on your feet as the pressure grew. The door opened a crack, just enough for walkers to poke their fingers through.

Terror flooded you as you realised - this place could be your graveyard. The thought fuelled you to push past the aching limbs and press harder into the door.

Maggie came up besides you, brandishing her knife and chopping the fingers off of the walker. Without missing a beat she pressed her upper body against the door, efficiently slamming the gap closed.

“Thanks,” you breathlessly thanked her, mostly occupied with keeping your feet planted to the ground.

She nodded her head in acknowledgement, her body too being shaken by the sheer force of the walkers.

Casting a glance over your shoulder, you saw Daryl, Rick and Glenn milling around the room, searching the contents. A shot of resentment coursed through you, especially upon seeing Daryl seemingly do nothing.

“A little help would be nice.” You snapped.

“We’re tryna find a way out.” Daryl was equally as snippy. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Can you at least find something to bolt the door with?” A particularly heavy thud nearly pushed you away from the door. Your arms were shaking with the constant pressure. “We’re struggling here.”

“I got it.” Glenn rushed past Daryl and Rick, a mop in his hand. He manoeuvred between you and Maggie, sliding the mop in the door handle.

“Move on three?” You gestured to Maggie, who nodded in agreement. “One. Two. Three.”

The pair of you took a cautious step away from the door, watching the door with attentive eyes. The door bucked with the beating of the undead, the mop securing it in place.

Glenn appeared in your sight again, rolling what looked like a trolley filled to the brim with balls in front of the door. He engaged the brakes with his foot, smiling weakly. “Just in case the mop doesn’t hold.”

You didn’t want to think what would happen if that was the case. The trolley could only hold them for so long, and between you all, you didn’t have the weapons or manpower to overcome the amount of walkers you’d seen out there.

Tumbling to the ground, you took a moment to survey your surroundings. There were more metal crates of balls lined up against another wall, the balls different colours and sizes. Behind that was a bucket full of hockey sticks. You noted that in the back of your mind for later. A red eagle costume was hung up on one of the walls, a layer of dust having settled into the fabric. The walls were white, bar one that featured the school’s logo. A red eagle with the school’s name was imprinted into the brick. It almost made you laugh.

Despite all of this, there were no windows. You were once again reminded how school was a prison, and ironically long after your school years had been finished, you were captive once again.

You rested your head on your knees. Why did the most simple things have to go so wrong? All you’d wanted was to scavenge the school. It appeared to be quiet outside, leading you all into a false sense of security. Turns out, they’d been waiting for the prey to wander into the trap.

“So… what now?” Glenn asked out loud. You looked up from your knees, seeing him sat directly across from you with his arm wrapped around Maggie. You imagined your face was the mirror image of theirs - empty. You wondered if they’d also accepted their fate. You were mentally calculating how long it would take for you all to brave the walkers outside and die, or let nature do its work and kill you in two days. Either way, you had accepted that the only outcome of this situation was grief.

Rick rubbed his beard, his voice so small even the mice would struggle to hear. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” The words slipped out your mouth without meaning to. There was a venomous tone to it even you were shocked to hear.

“Y/N, give the man a break.” Daryl snapped.

“Oh fuck off Daryl.” You spat, trying to push down your rising anger. “If it wasn’t for him we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“He’s jus’ trying his best.”

“And his best is going to get us killed.” You sighed, looking up at Rick. “You’re meant to be our leader. So lead. Tell us how the fuck to get out of this mess.”

“If ya gave the man time to think -”

“We might not have that time!”

The pounding started harder on the door. Daryl huffed, striding towards you. Before you knew it he had you pinned against a grate, his hand scrunched up in your shirt. “Are ya gonna keep your loud ass shut or am I gonna have to do it for ya?”

“I’d like to watch you try.” His grip on your shirt tightened. For a second you thought his fist was going to fly into your face: as much as you hated him, you knew he wouldn’t do that to you. Daryl had a code and while you might be toeing the line to get a beating, you hadn’t passed the mark yet.

“They’re just scared, Daryl, let them go.” Rick placed a gentle hand on Daryl’s shoulder. Reluctantly Daryl let you go, looking as though giving in took a huge physical toll. You softly glared at the man, subtly readjusting the shirt he’d just scrunched up.

Glenn wandered over to where Daryl had you pinned, pushing the grate. “Guys, I think I have an idea.” He spun on his heel, counting the trolleys. “If we can tie these together, we can get to the door.”

“Glenn, you’re a genius.” You reached for the nearest trolley, pulling on the grate. It appeared to be sturdy enough, and once the brake was disengaged, you’d be able to move it. The most dangerous part would be the first part - pushing the trolley’s out - as there was no space in here to make the circle, but once the circle was secured? It would act as a fortress.

He smiled shyly. “Thanks.”

“Reckon we could add the hockey sticks to them? Break them so it’s like a javelin and let the walkers walk right into them?”

“It’s a good idea,” Glenn pondered, looking at the others. “It’ll take time.”

“We don’t have time.” You almost rolled your eyes hearing Daryl echo your words from earlier. Of course he would agree when it’s under his own circumstances. “We could flip the lids, crawl through.”

“We’ll get nowhere that way.” You flipped the lid of a trolley up. “It’ll be best for them to be tall.”

“You do know walkers can climb right?”

Instantly your back was straight. You crossed your arms. “Better than taking our sweet ass time by crawling across and having walkers crush us to death.”

“Yer such a dumbass.”

“Excuse me?” That spark of irritation was quickly becoming a raging fire of anger. You could feel your fists clench and jaw tighten the longer you were in his presence. “Want to say that to me again?”

“So not only are ya a dumbass, yer deaf too.”

“Come here you little shit -” You pounced towards Daryl, Rick grabbing you just in time before your body collided. You fought against his grip, trying desperately to get to Daryl, who merely stepped away from your flailing hands. This only angered you further, a growl of frustration ripping from your body.

“Can you two get along for just five minutes?”

“He’s acting like a child.”

“They’re actin’ like they’re hot shit.”

“Either way, one of you is going to be pissed. Let’s vote on it. Agreed?” Nodding reluctantly, you shifted out of Rick’s grip. “If I let go of you Y/N, do you promise not to scratch Daryl’s eyes out?”

“I guess.” You muttered underneath your breath, feeling Rick release your waist slowly. He stood nearby, one eye trained on you as if he expected you to lunge for Daryl at any given moment. You couldn’t blame him really.

As a group, you decided it would be best to keep the lids of the trolley’s high, Maggie and Rick agreeing with your stance. Daryl did little to hide his displeasure at the end result but said nothing. You could sense his foul mood from a million miles away.

You focused on the task at hand, tying ropes to the trolley’s and securing them together. Your hands grew tired of the constant movement and you could feel his searing glare into your back. You tried to pass it off and carried on, the weight of his gaze growing heavier and heavier with each passing minute.

Your fingernails dug into the palms of your hands. Before you could control yourself, you spun around, seeing Daryl staring at your trolley with the lid flipped high. “What?”

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“We voted, get over it.” You turned to continue the task at hand. You could sense his annoyance still. This time when you turned on your heel, it wasn’t a threat you were spitting his way, it was a promise. “If it goes wrong, I’ll take responsibility.”

Daryl nodded, seeming content with your response.

The argument now settled, you all continued to fix the trolley’s and put the plan to action. Time flew past, and soon, the plan was ready to be executed. You stood by your crate, your grip on the metal bars slick as your heart banged loudly in your chest. This was the make or break moment.

Rick stood at the front of the line. He cast a glance at you all from over his shoulder, sensing the nervous tension. “Are you ready?”

“Better now than never.” For once, Daryl said something and you didn’t want to punch him. You were grateful he had spoken up, your own words lost to the panic building in your chest.

Rick removed the mop from the door handles. He opened the doors.

There was no going back now.

As a unit, you all pushed the trolley’s out into the gym. Rick and Daryl took out the nearest walkers, rushing back towards the trolleys to form a circle. Hurriedly they tied to ropes together, binding the trolleys together into a circle shape.

Laughing, you smiled at Glenn. For the first time since you stepped into the gym, there was an ebb of hope lingering in the back of your mind. Maybe this wouldn’t be your death day after all. “It worked.”

“Don’t speak too soon.”

Together you began to push your makeshift shield towards the door. Slowly you began to feel resistance from the other side, the smell of the undead quickly becoming overwhelming. Progress started to slow as more walkers catapulted themselves at the shield. You desperately tried to beat away walkers impeding the progress; each time a walker fell, another would take its place.

The walkers were just too strong. They kept pushing over the top, fighting to make their way in. Your arms burned with effort as you struggled to keep the shield intact.

“Make ‘em tall, great idea Y/N.” Daryl snapped, his muscles bulging as he pushed the shield forwards towards the doors.

Anger surged through you. You tried to focus on that, and not on the ebbing strength. “We would have died in there!”

“An’ we’ll die out here!”

You tuned out Daryl’s mumbling, focusing on keeping the grates as close together as you could. With each passing second more walkers were making their way towards the contraption and it was harder to keep them at bay.

The hope you had started to feel was disappearing with each walker. A thin sheen of sweat was coating your body with the sheer exertion of the task. Your body was fighting to stay alive and your brain was convincing you to keep trying, it’ll all work out.

Maggie cried out. A walker had managed to creep through a crack, grabbing her tightly. It tugged her towards the grate, it’s jaws growing closer to her skin. Your body moved before you could process what was happening, stabbing the walker in the skull. It’s grip fell from Maggie. You frantically grabbed the sides of the grates, pulling them closed.

A sharp pain lit up your hand. Instinctively you pulled your hand back; it was too late. The world seemed to stop as you saw the teeth marks imprinted into your skin. Blood poured down your hand. Your death warrant had now been signed and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.

No one had noticed your turmoil, too busy at keeping the walkers at bay.

“Y/N, get your act together and help us!” Daryl snapped, pushing harder against the grate to no avail. The amount of walkers now swarming the shield was making your greatest asset your greatest weakness.

You smiled sadly at Daryl. Looking at him you saw all of the unresolved fights, the hatred you had towards him. You never could admit the reason you hated him was because you saw so much of yourself in him. And now, you would die without ever having a chance to repent for all the hurtful things you’d ever said to him.

Clearing your throat, you looked at him with blurry eyes. “I said I’d take full responsibility.”

He stared at you blankly as you jumped on top of the crate, pushing the walkers away with your hands. The walkers clawed at you but you didn’t care, your death had already been sealed, there was nothing else that could be done. You felt a sharp tug on the back of your shirt pull you off of the crate. You fell to the ground with a harsh slam. You relished the pain - it reminded you that you were still human.

“The hell you think ya doin’, playing hero?” Daryl snapped, pulling you to your feet.

“It’s too late for me!” You cried out, pulling yourself from his grip. His hands released you, watching with confusion as he noticed how you cradled your hand. Your hand, that had the imprinted teeth marks and dripping with blood. You felt his eyes draw to it. You swore you saw sadness cross his face. Shakily, you smiled. “Just let me help, okay?”

Before anyone could protest, you pushed yourself over the shield. You started dragging the walkers away from the moving shield, watching with a sense of hope as it started to move slowly across the room. You didn’t care about the walkers at your back; your friends were in trouble.

You walked towards the shield, helping pull it towards the doors. A pair of jaws hooked themselves around your shoulder. Your face twisted in pain and yet you kept pulling, your hand tightly gripping the top of the grate.

Another jaw latched onto you. This time you couldn’t disguise your agony as you cried out. Tears streamed down your cheeks.

A hand fell on top of yours. Daryl’s stricken gaze bore into your own as he started screaming at the top of his lungs for them to leave you alone. His grip on your hand tightened. He was borderline hysterical as he watched you be ripped apart, yet still pulled the shield to the door, your movements growing weaker as more blood spurted from your wounds.

More jaws attached themselves to your body. There was no use in hiding your pain as your friends watched you be torn apart.

You prayed he saw the apologies in your eyes, how you wished he would one day forgive you for the unfounded hatred you had towards him. You were grateful that despite everything that had transpired between the two of you, he still comforted you in your final moments on this earth.

“Let’s go home.”

You disappeared into the walkers, using the last of your strength to send a silent plea to whatever higher power was listening.

Please, help them get home.

Fast and Furious (Daryl Dixon x Platonic!Reader)

A run to an abandoned office building gives you chance to flex some skills Daryl didn’t know you had.

It was meant to be a simple run. Alexandria was running out of supplies, the runs were getting more desperate, and the bags getting lighter. So when Daryl stopped the car outside of a derelict office building, switching the engine off, you weren’t exactly surprised. The places you could scavenge within the radius of Alexandra were getting slimmer by the day.

Who knew, maybe it would be a secret gold mine.

“You know, I used to work in a place like this.” You gently shut the door behind you, tugging your bag onto your back.

Daryl glanced at you from the corner of his eye, the corner of his lip quirking up. “Oh yeah?”

“Hard to believe, I know.” You laughed, looking up at the building. Fading memories of your old job flashed across your mind - endless paperwork, the high shrill of the phone’s, and the relentless tapping of keyboards. Even thinking of it made your muscles itch to move.

“I don’ think I’ve ever seen ya sat still for more than five minutes.” He quipped. “If yer so familiar, ya might be able to lead us to the good stuff.”

You hummed in agreement, moving towards the building. The car park was bustling with cars, some with blood smeared on the inner windows. Some had a thin layer of dust coating the furniture inside. One car even had the boot opened. Quickly rummaging around the contents, moving aside the bags, you grinned to yourself. Pulling out a tire iron, you gave it a practice swing, feeling the whoosh as you struck air.

“Anything good?” Daryl leaned against the car.

You shrugged. “If we had all day, then maybe.”

He grunted, pushing himself off the car. “Then stop dallying around and get to it.”

Sighing, you gave one last look at the boot and moved towards the building. The closer you got, the knot of dread in your stomach started to grow. The amount of cars versus the number of walkers you’d seen didn’t make sense. The windows of the building were too dark to see anything.

Finding an open window, you gestured Daryl over. He jogged towards you, glancing up at the gap. He hooked his fingers together.

You stared at his hands, and then at how high the gap was. You looked back at him again. “You expect me, to get up there?”

“Ya know I can’t.”

“Right, your back. Sorry, grandpa.”

“Watch yer mouth.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You muttered as reluctantly, you placed one of your feet in his cupped hands. Planting a hand on his shoulder, you ignored the churning in your stomach as Daryl pushed you towards the gap. The window ledge was within touching distance.

“Give it more oomph!”

With a grunt, he pushed you up further. At last you could grasp the window ledge. Your upper arms burned as you pulled yourself up towards the gap slowly, and ever so slowly, you crawled through the gap. You could feel the bottom of the window pane pressing into your spine but you pulled yourself forward, until eventually, you flopped onto the floor on the opposite side with a resounding thud.

Springing to your feet, you pressed your back against the wall, tire iron raised high. Your heart was thudding in your ears. You strained to see anything in the room, cursing the windows so high and the light so dim.

A beat passed, then two. Nothing.

A breath of relief ripped free from your lungs. Shoulders loosening, you shouted out to Daryl, letting him know you were okay. His response was a grunt. Shuffling could be heard on the other side, next thing you know your bag was catapulted through the window.

You jumped out of your skin, grasping a hand to your chest. “What the hell!”

“Did ya want ya bag or not?”

“A warning would have been nice.” You muttered under your breath.

Moving through the dark, you cursed as you accidentally walked into the edges of desks and tripped over bins. Eventually you managed to find the area your bag landed, fumbling around until you found your torch. Switching it on, you started to carefully dance around the desks, seeking out a door. After a few minutes of searching, the faint glow of an emergency light drew your attention. Drawn to it like a moth, you took a step towards it, the gap between you and the door closing. Your hairs stood on end as you saw the door shake. Groans followed.

Cautiously, you stepped away slowly, putting as much distance between the door and you as you could. You carried on your search for a door.

“Y/N?” A hint of worry echoed in Daryl’s voice.

You back hit an old filing cabinet. The metal thudded. The walkers moans grew louder and the shaking door more incessant. You didn’t want to risk talking. Turning your torch towards the window, you flicked it on and off twice - your secret signal to Daryl that you were alright. He must have seen it as he stopped prying for your whereabouts.

Stumbling around, you tripped over your feet. A slight jangle echoed throughout the space. You froze, holding your breath as you waited for the incessant pounding on the fire exit to calm down. Curious, you shone the torch in the direction of the noise. At first, you saw a glint of metal, and then the key fob.

You almost jumped for joy.

Snatching up the keys, your mind whirred with the possibilities. You could take it back and scavenge it for spare parts. You could use it as another car so more survivors could search for supplies further away from camp. Hell, even the thought of being able to drain it of petrol felt like a blessing. Maybe this trip wasn’t as much of a waste after all.

A loud clattering drew your attention. The pounding of the walkers behind you attacked your ears. Your palms started to sweat as you hastily pocketed the keys, lifting the tire iron and torch in the direction of the noise.

A crossbow dropped through the gap. A disgruntled red neck followed. He jumped to his feet, snatching up the crossbow and lifting it up high. He spun around on his feet, body tense. Daryl opened his mouth to shout, his words catching in his throat as he saw you, partially blinding him with the torch light and deep lines ingrained in your forehead.

“…You’re okay?”

You stared at him. “Yeah, I told you.”

“I heard jack shit.”

“Daryl, I did the secret signal. You know,” you moved the torch and clicked it on and off twice.

Daryl stared back at you with an equally blank look. “Y/N. It’s day time.”

“And.”

Daryl sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How the ever loving fuck was I meant ta see that.”

The words processed for a minute. With the gap being so high, and the sun outside drowning out the torchlight, he wouldn’t have been able to see it. Meekly, you offered an apology. “Oh.”

“Dumbass.”

You wanted to curse him out, when a random thought struck you. “Wait, how did you manage to get in here?”

“Found a dumpster around tha corner.”

“So you’re telling me this all could have been avoided if you used your damn eyes?” Your mind was telling you to keep ranting when you paused. The rumbling from the behind grew even louder. “That’s why I didn’t say anything!”

“Ya could have said.”

“That was the problem!”

“Ya could have said quietly, ya don’t know the meaning of the word.”

“Excuse me for being concerned you wouldn’t be able to hear me, you-”

“Don’t say it.”

“You -”

“Don’t.”

“Pensioner.”

“Yer a lil shit.”

You opened your mouth to snap at him again. Your jaw hanged open as the distinct sound of doors slamming attacked your senses. Spinning around, you saw a stream of walkers flood through the open doors, grinding jaws and arms reaching towards you.

“Run!” Daryl pushed you forwards, sending an arrow into one of the walkers, argument forgotten. You followed his instruction without complaint, dashing through the office and throwing open the nearest door you could.

The pair of you sprinted through the corridors, dodging the arms of the undead. They started to pile out of the other rooms, desperately seeking your flesh. It seemed like they had been in hibernation - and they were starving. Your lungs were burning and calves aching but you carried on, following the emergency lights until you saw the dim glowing sign.

“This way.” You pulled the back of Daryl’s vest, making him stumble backwards. He followed you blindly as you ploughed through the emergency exit, knocking over the walkers who had been lingering behind it.

You had gone from the frying pan, into the fire.

The car park was deserted when you first arrived. Now, you could barely make out what was ten feet in front of you, the way crowded with bodies. All attention turned to the pair of you.

“Where the fuck did they all come from!” You exclaimed, feeling a hand tug you backwards. Stumbling, you fumbled for the knife at your belt, slicing the strap off your backpack. Their grip fell away, the backpack swinging awkwardly on your back as you sprinted towards the car you came in.

“Get to the car!”

You ducked out of the way of prying hands, swinging the tire iron endlessly. Your biceps were on fire yet you couldn’t stop, you had to keep swinging.

“This way,” Daryl shouted, beckoning you to follow his steps. Dutifully you were hot on his tail, choking on the thick smell of death in the air.

You could see where he was leading you. Up ahead, you could make out the roof of the car you had arrived in. It was swarming with walkers.

Daryl cursed, sending another arrow into the nearest walker. “Car’s surrounded.”

You spun around, trying to desperately search for any high ground where you could wait them out. All you saw was walkers. All you saw was your fate being sealed with each passing second.

You were close to accepting your death when you remembered the keys pressing into your back pocket.

The group had endured so much. They all were survivors, you were a survivor, you weren’t going to allow this shitty day be your last one on earth.

You prayed to whatever higher power was listening that the batteries in the key fob hadn’t died. Scooping them out of your pocket, you pressed down. A car on the opposite side of the car park, where there were slightly less walkers, beeped.

Without a second thought you pulled Daryl with you again, driving your tire iron into the walkers who came a little too close. You were grateful when the car was within reaching distance, yanking open the driver’s door and throwing yourself into the seat, slamming the door sharply behind you. Hands started to palm the glass.

Daryl was breathing heavily next to you, looking at the walkers, then at you. “Now what?”

You sent a second prayer up above, sliding the keys into the ignition. A weak splutter of the engine answered. Adrenaline rushed through you, coursing through your veins as you hoped you weren’t about to make a mistake.

“Make sure you have your seat belt on.”

“Wha-” He couldn’t finish his sentence, robbed of his voice as you pushed the accelerator to the floor. The car shot forwards, tossing walkers around you to the side. You paid no mind to the thunk of bodies slamming into the roof and metal of the car, gunning the car forwards.

Seeing a gap, you engaged the handbrake, swinging the car to the side and sliding into the gap. You drove forwards, trying to see an exit in the sea of walkers, the scenery blurring around you.

“Can you see a way out?” You asked Daryl, spinning the car again in an attempt to dodge more walkers.

Daryl was gripping the door handle for dear life. He risked a look back to where you had come in, only managing a weak shake of the head. You muttered a few colourful words underneath your breath.

“Can you hold?” You sweetly asked Daryl, an idea forming in your mind.

“Hold what?”

You didn’t explain as you lowered the window next to you, unbuckled your seat belt and grabbed the tire iron. You pulled yourself to perch in the gap of the window. Daryl shouted your name in a panic, quickly sliding into the seat and taking control of the pedals. “The fuck are yer doing!”

“We need to get a clear view.” You pulled yourself further out of the window, grabbing onto the rails above the car. Squinting against the bright sun, you twisted around, eyes desperately searching for a way out.

“Look out!”

A walker was a hair breadth away from you. You drove the tire iron into it’s skull, it’s head snapping backwards. It crumpled to the ground in time for another one to take it’s place.

“Daryl!” He swerved the car out of the way. Your centre of gravity was thrown off. Your hands slipped from the rails. The world suddenly turned upside down. Blood rushed to your head. Your legs were clenched tightly inside the car window, the only thing keeping you attached to the car. “What the fuck!”

“This was yer piss poor idea,” Daryl berated. You were far too concerned with making sure you didn’t fall out of the car to snap at him for his tone.

“Just pull me up!” Your arms swung blindly above, trying desperately to grasp for the space near where you thought Daryl’s hands would be. His fingers connected with yours just as a walker began to reach for you, it’s rotting stench blocking your nose.

The world quickly righted itself as Daryl pulled you up so you were seated in the window again. Not wasting a second, you swung the tire iron at the walker. It’s blood sprayed onto your cheek.

“Please can ya come back in?”

Reluctantly, you gestured for Daryl to move out of the driver’s seat, shuffling back into position. The car juddered as you changed driver’s, purring brilliantly as you pressed the gas to the floor. You spun the car around again, one time, two times, then shot forwards, hitting as few walkers as you possibly could.

Seeing a small hill, a plan formulated in your mind. You didn’t give yourself chance to second guess yourself. Pressing down harder on the gas, you pushed the car towards it, the speed increasing with every second. Daryl was gripping his seat belt tightly, screaming your name at the top of his lungs in terror.

The car flew over the hill, cresting the gate surrounding the office and for a moment, you felt weightless. The feeling of flying was quickly dampened as you both jolted, slamming harshly into the ground. Smoke was curling out from under the hood and you’re fairly certain all of the tyres had flattened on impact. With a quick glance over your shoulder, you saw the walkers pawing at the fence.

You were alive.

A cheshire like grin spread across your face. Breathless, you exclaimed. “That was fun.”

Daryl turned a dark shade of green. It took him a minute to gather himself; he managed to utter one word. “How?”

Bordering chaotic joy, you laughed. “I used to go joy riding with my friends.”

“I’m drivin’ next time.” Daryl shakily spoke.

It would take a very long time for Daryl to get in a car with you behind the wheel again.

the walking dead masterlist

Home Sweet Home (The Walking Dead x FemTeen!Reader)

Your group is seeking shelter when you stumble upon your childhood home. Inspired by thisrequest.

When you stepped out into the street, you knew. The tarmac beneath your feet was blood splattered, walkers ambling around decayed beyond recognition. You didn’t need to see the facial features or hear the voices to identify the walkers surrounding around you. From their clothes alone you realised these were people you once classed as friends.

The walker with a broken ankle, dragging it behind them used to be Mary. The walker with the baseball shirt and the number 5 pasted on the back was Ronnie. The walker with half of it’s face ripped off caused you the greatest pain - that was your best friend, Bailey. From the shallowness of their skin and maggots writhing you guessed they passed a long time ago. There was a pang in your heart.

This was the street where you grew up.

Past the blood and viscera you could see the ghost of what this street used to be. The yard where Mary held her BBQ’s. The one window pane was a different colour from the rest as Ronnie shattered it hitting a baseball too hard. The back garden where you camped with Bailey, chatting about nothing at all until the sun rose and smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. If you closed your eyes you swore you could feel the hard seat of a bike beneath you, the hollering of your friends filling your ears until you went deaf.

“Y/N, look out!”

You rose out of your nostalgia to see a walker pounce towards you. Falling to the floor, you grunted, your back flaring in pain. You had no time to focus on the ache, hearing the distinct clatter of your knife falling outside your reach. Panicking, you grabbed the thinning hair of the walker and pulled it’s head backwards, putting as much space between you and it as possible.

Your breath caught in your throat. Even in a crowd of a million people you would be able to recognise that face. Despite the fact this walker had a cavity where an eye should have been, and skin so thin you could make out the colour of it’s skull, you saw a loving, smiling face grinning at you. That face was a mirror image of your own.

You fought past the growing film coating your eyes. Swallowing thickly, you tried your hardest to separate your memories and reality, feeling the rush of wind with each clamp of it’s jaws. Your grip on the walker weakened as the hair began to pull away from the scalp. Tendrils of hair floated to the floor as you desperately pushed your spare arm up, trembling muscles pushing the gnashing jaws away from your own.

A katana pierced the skull.

Blood splattered on your face. Her blood. All you could feel was the dead weight of her corpse pinning you to the floor. Your jaw was slack. The image of the sword entering her head played on repeat. You could feel the blood hitting your face again.

“Come on!” Michonne grabbed you, dragging you to your feet. You felt yourself snatch up the knife you dropped. You let Michonne pull you along, slashing any walkers - your friends - out of your path. You knew it would be a bad idea; you felt your attention keep getting drawn to the walker crumpled on the floor, the virus having moved her corpse now silenced.

The group moved further down the street, taking down the few walkers that wandered in front of them. You watched with an empty gaze as Daryl sent an arrow into Mary’s head, as Tyresse sent his hammer into Ronnie’s skull and as Rosita drove a knife into Bailey. One by one your ties to your old life fell to the ground, like a puppet with the strings cut. Each blow felt like a dagger being driven into your heart.

You pushed past your grief. You reminded yourself that they were dead long before you got here. No, it was a good thing you came here. They’d finally been put to rest, you tried to convince yourself and failed miserably. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to join the fray, shuffling besides Michonne with her hand still gripped tightly on your arm.

A low rumbling broke the serenity. The roaring of the engine grew louder with each passing second. All backs went straight. Your heart thrummed erratically in your chest. Walkers were predictable, people were not.

Rick was the first to move, running towards the nearest house and beckoning you all to follow. Your steps faltered as you saw which house Rick was shouldering his way into. Daryl was helping, the door not moving an inch.

Without thinking, you distanced yourself from the group, tightening the grip of the knife in your hand. You tried to convince yourself you’d use it if you had to; if you recognised the face, you weren’t sure you would have the strength to do it.

You rushed into the back garden, shoulders loosening when you saw the open window. They always had a habit of leaving the bottom window unlocked. You forced the window up, pulling yourself into the gap, ignoring your burning muscles and dragging yourself into the kitchen. You tumbled into the kitchen sink noisily.

For a second you froze, waiting to hear something. A beat passed. All you could hear was the steady thud of Rick and Daryl trying to break into the house.

You kept your eyes forward, trying to quieten the booming memories in your mind. The engine was growing louder.

You reached the front door. A bookshelf was blocking the entrance. Mustering all of your strength, you began to pull the shelves away from the door, grunting and muttering under your breath. Your muscles burned inch by inch, the furniture moved. Sweat built on your brow as your brain frantically ran with the scenarios where you just weren’t quick enough.

Another pound on the door. The door shook with the effort. With a final grunt you pulled the bookcase away, watching Rick all but fall through the entrance. The group all filtered in behind him, slamming the door shut with a final thud just as you heard the engine roar down the road.

Rick looked at you, slightly out of breath. You half expected him to berate you, brows rising as you saw him smile at you. “How do you always manage to save our asses?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, giving him a weak smile in return.

Abraham slapped you on the back. “Great job Y/N, I was starting to think I should have worn my brown pants.”

Rosita hit Abraham with the back of her hand, shaking her head at him in amusement. He just shrugged, a brilliant grin on his face. “We hunkering down here for the night?”

Your heart sank. You’d rather have faced the strangers in the car than spend a night reminded of everything you had lost.

“Might as well, let’s split off, make sure this place is safe, grab anything that looks useful and meet in the kitchen.”

“Roger, roger.” Daryl agreed, acting as a catalyst for everyone else to follow suit.

Everyone was paired up, searching the rooms in the house for anything useful. You were left standing in the entryway alone. It wasn’t anything personal. You were quiet and reserved, and people respected that. They would have your back in a fight but you certainly wouldn’t be the first person someone approached for a conversation, unless they wanted it to last all of five seconds. At this time you were grateful for the solitude.

You squeezed your eyes shut, scrunching your hands in fists. You had survived so much, you could survive one night in your childhood home. Still, you felt your life play before your eyes as you saw yourself running into your mother’s arms after a long day of work, her spinning you around. You walked through the memory, moving towards the stairs. An onslaught of the past rushed towards you. Dancing down the stairs, only to break your toe on the banister. Your parents holding your hand while the doctors examined your injury.

It’s like you were being drawn to her room. You had no care for ensuring the house was safe - this would always be your safe place - you only needed to reach where your heart desired. Gently, you nudged the door open, breathing a sigh of relief when you noticed no one was in there. The curtains were closed shut, only streams of dimming light brightening the space.

You didn’t need light to go where you were going. You found yourself standing outside the wardrobe. Hands shaking, you opened the door.

Her clothes.

A cautious hand reached out. Her favourite sweater. You slowly lifted the soft material to your cheek, freezing in place. Tears streamed down your face. The times she comforted you by wiping your tears away with this very sweater. You tried to muffle your sobs as you tried to re-enact the memory, gently sweeping the material under your flowing eyes. A shuddering breath ripped out of you. A tsunami was brewing.

She did it better.

You didn’t hear the door squeak open. Your shoulders shook with the weight of your grief. You resisted the urge to look out of the window and find her corpse amidst the street.

“Y/N?” A comforting hand fell on your shoulder. Immediately, your body stiffened. You shrugged their hand away. “Are you okay?”

“Fine, Glenn.” You shortly responded, praying that the dark of the room hid the glistening of your eyes. “I was just checking if there were any clean clothes for us.”

“Good idea.” You knew he didn’t believe a word you were saying. As if to prove a point, you ripped the clothes from the hangers, uncaring about the loud clatter of the hangers tumbling to the floor. You shoved them towards him.

“See if Maggie wants any.”

“Y/N… You can talk to us, you know that right?”

You couldn’t even muster a weak smile. He wouldn’t believe it anyway. “I know Glenn. Thank you.”

“We worry about you.” Glenn sighed. He looked as if he was going to reach out towards you again, before thinking better of it. “Just, please, talk to us every now and then, yeah?”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing now?”

“You know what I mean.” He sighed, holding the clothes to his chest. “Guess I’ll take these to the kitchen then.”

When he disappeared, a well of emotion tumbled out of you. You turned back to the closet, determined to find the sweater. All the clothes were now in a bundle on the floor. Desperately you rifled through them, the panic growing steadily with each passing second.

It wasn’t there.

Jumping to your feet, you threw the door open, running down the stairs. You forced yourself past Rick and Carl, nearly falling down the stairs in the process. You found Glenn in the kitchen, the bundle of clothes thrown haphazardly on the floor. The panic subsided; only slightly.

As casually as you could, you moved towards the clothes pile, going through the contents. Panic began to bubble in your chest as you couldn’t find it again. It felt like you were going through the five stages of grief.

“Hey Glenn, doesn’t this kinda look like -” Maggie walked into the room, a photo cusped in her hand. Your heart fell out of your chest as you saw her wearing the sweater. You tried to play off the rising panic but to no avail. The room felt like it was closing in and all of the memories were threatening to suffocate you. “Oh hey, Y/N, you okay?”

You couldn’t remember nodding. You must be an impeccable actor as she smiled, gesturing the picture to you. “I was just about to show Glenn this. I swear, she could be your twin.”

You took the picture from her hands. You had every intention of playing it off as a crazy coincidence - all of those thoughts flew out of the window as you looked down at the photo. It was from when you and your parents had gone to the beach. Your parents were gazing at each other lovingly while you stood between them, grinning madly. There was a crumbling sandcastle in front of you that you presented with pride.

You were so happy.

Water dripped onto the picture. It marred your smile. Frantically you wiped at the tears, only for more to take their place. Your shoulders shook with the effort of keeping the storm at bay.

“Place’s clear. There was only a walker in the basement but we dealt with it.”

The tears only flew faster.

“The hell’s wrong with her?”

Maggie spoke so softly you couldn’t hear her over your crying. “This is her home.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the group. You stood in the middle of the room, alone, trying to fight the overwhelming emotions possessing your body.

Maggie took a tentative step closer. You didn’t protest as she pulled you into her arms. You grasped at her, clinging to her like a newborn. You breathed in deeply, hoping for a hint of her scent on the sweater that remained.

There was nothing.

Michonne broke the silence. “Did you recognise anyone outside?”

Wordlessly, you nodded your head.

Rick sighed. “It’ll be dark soon. We’ll bury the dead at first light.”

“Are you sure that’s the most logical thing? With the high volume of walkers and our current exhaustion I don’t think we should be expending energy unnecessarily.”

“Shut the fuck up Eugene, she’s a kid.” Daryl smacked Eugene upside the head, sending him a venomous glare. Eugene shrunk under his gaze, opening his mouth to defend himself when you interrupted him.

“Eugene’s right.” You sniffled, pulling yourself away from Maggie. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. He’s just being a prick.”

“Like always.” You heard Carl mutter under his breath. A huff of a laugh slipped past your lips through the tears. Carl looked up at you, almost embarrassed you heard him. That embarrassment faded when he saw the slight curve of your mouth.

“Uh,” you cleared your threat in an attempt to stop it cracking constantly. “The walker in the basement, did it have this watch on?” You passed the picture to Daryl. He looked at it, then passed it back. He was silent for a minute.

“’M sorry.”

Another silence passed through the group. You felt like you were in the eye of the storm, being battered with debris, body aching and slowly giving up. All eyes were on you as you kept your gaze fixated to the floor, determined for them to not see you break down more than you already had. You knew you were kidding them all - they could see the tears dripping onto the floor.

In a voice so small it was almost illegible, you muttered. “Can we bury them together?”

That night you had a restless sleep. Childhood memories were incepted with demons and walkers clawing at happiness.

By late afternoon, you were standing in the backyard of your childhood home, looking emptily down at the two mounds of fresh dirt.

Hope was the deadliest weapon. For years, ever since you realised you would never return to this street the way you knew it, you hoped that they would be okay. That those you held near and dear to you were somewhere surviving, looking up at the same night sky as you were. It was what fuelled you to take that extra step when your feet were throbbing, what pushed you forwards when your stomach was riddled with a gnawing hunger, and what kept you living. Now that you knew the truth… You wondered how you could move forwards when you were constantly looking back, looking back at her corpse that signified the death of your naivety.

You weren’t sure about what the future would hold, or if you would ever recover from the loss of your family. The fate of the group was unknown but that didn’t cause you any anxiety anymore, for the worst thing that could have happened, had already happened to you. You didn’t know if you would survive long enough to see the hairs on your head turn grey. There was one thing you knew for certain.

Your childhood home was now a graveyard.

the walking dead masterlist

No Lone Wolves Here (Daryl Dixon x Platonic!Reader)

An Alexandrian party is too much for you after your time surviving. Thankfully, your friend Daryl understands exactly how you’re feeling.

The party was bustling with life. It felt odd, to be surrounded by so many people in such small quarters, actual clean clothes adorned on your body and the heavy sound of chatter attacking your senses. After surviving with the dead for so long, it was strange to be living with the living. That’s why you separated yourself, clinging to the quietest corner of the room. You merely watched all these people interact with one thought in your mind - how can they act so normal?

Your every instinct was telling you to run, to find a quiet place to spend the rest of your night. You wanted to ditch the bottle of beer that was cradled in your hand, the liquid still brimming the top. You couldn’t drink. No, you had to stay focused.

“Hey, Y/N.” Rick sidled up beside you, eyes raking your tense stance. It didn’t take a body language expert to sense that you were on edge. “Enjoying the party?”

“Depends on your definition of ‘enjoyment’.”

“C'mon, try to loosen up a bit.” Rick sighed, rubbing his beard. He placed a friendly hand on your shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “I know it’s hard, but can you at least try? These people welcomed us into their home.”

Rick’s begging eyes broke your resolve. As much as you loved your corner of solitude, there was only so long that you could put off interacting with other people. Nodding your head, a bright smile lit up his face. The action nearly knocked you off your feet. It had been so long since you had seen him smile.

You had to do this, for your friends, your family.

“You got this.” Rick gave your shoulder a final squeeze, before disappearing back into the crowd. You wished he stayed by your side and helped you navigate the treacherous waters of normal conversation. God, you couldn’t remember the last time you made small talk.

Fighting your trembling hands and racing heart, you threw yourself into the fray. You felt eyes draw towards you as you suddenly realised you could not remember how the hell to approach a stranger for a conversation. Don’t even get you started on small talk.

Nervously, you sipped your drink. The foul tasting liquid did nothing to soothe your nerves. Maybe it would be better if you got another drink.

Weaving through the people, you managed to find the kitchen. You released a breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding at the sight of the empty room. You were becoming aware that your palms were sweaty.

Drink cradled to your chest, you searched the table for anything other than beer. After a few minutes you came up short, disappointment shooting through you like a bullet.

“Looking for a drink?” A voice behind you questioned.

Your heart jumped out of your chest as you spun around, already thinking ten steps ahead as to how you could incapacitate the threat. You froze when you saw a man standing there, no older than early twenties, looking at you with a raised brow.

“Someone’s jumpy.” His remark dug under your skin. He had no idea what you had been through to get to this paradise. Ignorant prick. Still, you promised Rick you would try to be friendly. You huffed a laugh, hoping it would hide your annoyance.

“You’re with the new group, right?” You nodded your head, really wishing he would stop looking at you. There was nothing sinister in his gaze, just a glint of curiosity that you weren’t sure how to respond to. “I’m Jake, nice to meet you.”

His open hand hung between the two of you. You stared at it, not entirely sure what to do. If you shook his hand, that would give him the advantage to exploit your weaknesses. You settled for nodding at him, forcing a small quirk to your lips. “I’m Y/N.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

Suddenly you didn’t get a good vibe. You wanted to tell this man to mind his own business but all you could think of was how brightly Rick smiled. He wanted to make this place a home; you had to try to make this work. Reluctantly, you shook your head up and down.

Jake moved closer, skirting around you to grab another drink. He took the lid off with the edge of the table, looking at you from the corner of his eye. “It’s so boring here. It’s wild to think the world is… gone when everything here is so normal. I bet you have some stories.”

Your mouth ran off without consulting your brain. “None of which I’m sharing with you.”

Jake immediately backed away, raising his hands in surrender. You wanted to do nothing more than yank the drink from his hand and smash it over his head. He was still smiling. “I wasn’t trying to pry, just making friendly conversation.”

“Feels more like an interrogation to me.”

“Is it? Because to me it seems like you have a difficulty opening up.”

“To me it sounds like you’ve never heard that curiosity kills the cat.”

He smiled playfully. “But satisfaction brought it back.”

“Not to be rude, but I’m not going to tell someone I’ve just met my life story.” All thoughts of grabbing another drink forgotten, you moved past him to leave the kitchen. His hand shot out and grabbed your arm. Before you could process what was happening, you had his arm pinned to his back, him whimpering.

“Don’t touch me.” You warned, releasing his arm and leaving the kitchen. Rick’s wish be damned, you tried, maybe you could try another day. All you knew was this house was suffocating and it felt as if your lungs were going to explode.

You saw glimpses of your group as you tried to find a way out. They were laughing, smiling, drinking, and acting like the perfect citizens. The thought of doing the same made you feel sick. At this point you had evolved into a survivor and the white picket fence lifestyle didn’t suit you.

Aaron appeared in your vision, stepping out in front of you. You stopped in your tracks, legs itching to start moving again. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

The concern in his eyes made you want to run further. Desperately, you managed to squeak out a request. “Can I leave?”

“Sure, sure.” Aaron smiled at you sympathetically. “I’ll show you the way.”

With Aaron as your guide you escape your prison, breathing in a large lungful of clean air. As soon as you stepped outside you felt your shoulders loosen and your heart calm.

Aaron closed the door behind you. “Want me to walk you home?”

Home? Did you really have a home here? You declined his offer, shoving the bottle of beer towards Aaron and practically running down the stairs and out into the street. The steady rhythm of your feet hitting the ground brought a strange sense of calm over yourself, until finally you could rid yourself of the anxieties the Alexandrian welcome party had brought you. Jogging to a stop outside the group’s shared house, you weren’t all that surprised to see Daryl sat on the steps, taking a deep drag of his cigarette.

Slightly out of breath, you nodded to the seat next to him. Daryl shuffled over wordlessly, and with a deep sigh you sagged into the space. The acidic stench of smoke hit your nostrils.

“Thought ya were at the party.” Daryl puffed out a plume of smoke. You watched it curl into the air and fade away.

“I’m not really the party type.”

“Me neither.”

“Now that does surprise me.” Daryl eyed you up from the corner of his eye. You smirked, knocking your shoulder against his. “Look at us, a pair of socialites.”

Daryl chuckled. “I’d rather not play pretend when I know the shit that’s goin’ on out there.”

You looked at the walls, at what they were keeping out, but what they were also keeping in. “These people know nothing of suffering.”

“You were like tha’ once.” Daryl stubbed his cigarette on the floor, grinding the ashes into the wood, leaving a burn mark.

“Yeah but I wasn’t a blind idiot.”

“Yeah, 'cause you still are.”

You mocked a gasp, pushing him playfully with your hand. “Remind me why we’re friends.”

“Bold of ya to assume we’re friends.”

“Right, because we’re family.”

“Damn straight.” Daryl leaned backwards, his hands supporting him. “Why’d ya leave?”

You sighed, looking down at your hands. When you lived outside the walls they were always caked in some kind of dirt or blood. Now they were so clean you could make out the creases in your skin. “They wanted entertainment and I ain’t no performing monkey.”

“Amen.” He shuffled across, so the space between you was smaller. His body heat warmed your chilled bones.

Minutes of comfortable silence passed between the two of you. It had always been this way, you could happily chat for hours or say nothing at all. It was the company that mattered. Having once been renowned for being a lone wolf, Daryl had broken free from his shell and embraced the relationships he formed with others. It was hard to believe that when you first met him, he was the loner everyone was intimidated by.

“This place feels like a fairytale.” Daryl mused, looking out at the picture perfect scene. Even the moan of walkers could barely be heard.

“All stories end.”

Daryl grunted in agreement. “I just hope it’s a long fucking story.”

“Are we normal, Daryl? For not fitting in here?”

“Were we ever normal?”

You hummed.

“I don’t think bein’ different is a bad thing.”

“No, I guess you’re right.”

Daryl smiled at you cheekily. “Aren’t I always?”

You laughed, grateful that while everything else was changing, you would still have your friend by your side.

the walking dead masterlist

Did you guys ever noticed Jeffrey has a scar on his right side of his face?

In Jeff’s words: “About 15 years ago I was riding my motorcycle in LA and spotted a guy beating up his girlfriend outside a 7-Eleven. I pulled over to break it up and she coldcocked me from behind with a bottle. She wasn’t grateful at all.”

Poor Jeffrey

Summary:  It’s been eighteen months since Alexa Rushmore broke the man she loved out of prison.  She and Daryl now live in fear, unable to let their guard down in case their true identities should be revealed.  When Daryl’s brother tracks them down, life becomes even more difficult.  Will Merle Dixon prove to be their downfall?  The third and final instalment of the Conviction trilogy that began with ‘In Dark Corners.’

Pairing:  Daryl Dixon x OFC

Warnings: Language

Word Count:  2,933

Check out my bio for a link to my Masterlist!

Author’s Note:   This chapter ended up a little shorter than planned, just cos it’s veeery dialogue heavy, so I didn’t want to add even more.  I’m still not sure if this will run to 5 chapters + an epilogue, or 6 + an epilogue, so we’ll see how it goes, but I’m hoping to have it all wrapped up by the end of the month, even though I’ve abandoned my Monday posting schedule.  There are a lot of feels in this one as the brothers hash it out, so I hope you enjoy.  Happy reading!!

*****

The grasses were crisp beneath their boots as the Dixon brothers covered the open plains of the countryside, the sun’s rays scorching their skin and tinting it red.  Daryl didn’t much care, knowing that it would soon melt into a deep golden tan, something Alexa envied with her naturally pale complexion, but the sweat that beaded on his forehead was burning his eyes as it trickled over the slope of his brow, and he swiped it away with the back of his hand, casting a sideways glance at Merle to see that he, too, was glistening in the heat.  So far, neither one of them had spoken since leaving the house.  The forced bravado he’d displayed upon waking had long since disappeared, and now he appeared almost submissive, his head down as he followed in Daryl’s footsteps, allowing the younger man to take the lead with his greater knowledge of the territory.  The air between them was thick with tension, humming with an unseen threat that had goosebumps rising along the length of Daryl’s arms and, if he let his thoughts run wild for too long, he’d find his fingers bunching into fists of their own accord, his anger still very much present and simmering just beneath the surface of his casual exterior.

So far, there’d been no sign of any wildlife, and he was sure that it was the tense atmosphere that was driving them away, but he supposed it didn’t really matter.  The hunt was an excuse, a reason to drag Merle out of the house so that they could talk without the risk of putting Alexa in harm’s way if things went south, and so, when they finally reached the sloping banks of what had been a stream before the summer months had dried up any trace of water from the winding channel, Daryl set aside his bow and slumped down onto the hard, dusty earth, tugging a bottle of water from his pack and taking a long drink before passing it off to his brother to do the same.  

“Ya thinkin’a fishin’, li’l brother?” Merle asked as he lowered himself down beside him, careful to keep several feet between them as he studied the younger Dixon, trying to get a read on his body language.  “‘Cause I hate to break it to ya, but I ain’t sure they’re runnin’ right now.”

Despite himself, Daryl scoffed, shaking his head, kicking his leg out to dig the heel of his boot into the parched earth.  He knew the rains would come, eventually, but this was his first experience of Mexico’s dry season, and it was hard to imagine that the sun-baked landscape would ever recover.  He wondered if he and Alexa would still be around to see it when the weather broke.  “Always jokin’, aren’t ya, Merle?  Ain’t never taken nothin’ seriously in yer whole damn life.”

“Never used to bother ya.”

“S’always bothered me,” Daryl argued.  “Everythin’s a joke, or else it’s a fuckin’ competition.  Can’t never just leave nothin’ alone.”

Merle hummed, deep in his chest, running his hand over the thinning hair on the top of his head.  “So, this is the talk, huh?”

“Ya could’a messed everythin’ up, man.  D’ya get that?  Still might’a done!  We ain’t got no way’a knowin’!”  Daryl’s gaze was sharp enough to cut when it locked with Merle’s, his expression bordering on hate, but not quite there, not yet.  “Someone could be callin’ the authorities on us right now after that stunt ya pulled in the bar.”

“Wasn’t a big deal, brother-” Merle began.  His memory had come back to him in dribs and drabs as they’d covered the miles, and he remembered now how Daryl had tracked him down in the cantina, tried desperately to drag him out of there before he could do anything stupid.  

“Ya called me by my name!  My real name!”

“So, I forgot!  S’cuse me if I can’t keep up with all your covert cloak an’ dagger bullshit”

“Ain’t bullshit, Merle!  S’gotta be like this!  Ya think I like havin’ to call Lex Ella whenever I’m outta the house?  Think I like bein’ called Dixon when that name’s followed me like a fuckin’ curse my whole life?”

“Oh yeah, ya got it real hard, dont’cha?” Merle drawled, throwing himself back against the hard ground so he could stare up into the cloudless blue expanse above, avoiding his brother’s troubled eyes.  “I team up with your girl back there to get ya the hell outta that place, an’ then the two of ya take off an’ leave me behind!”  When that was met with only silence, he went on.  “S’fine, alright.  I get it.  Ain’t never been nothin’ but a damn liability my whole life.  Ya probably wouldn’a made it as far the border with me along for the ride.  But, shit, man…  I rock up here with nothin’.  Seriously, all I got to my name’s a handful’a change and a spare change’a clothes.  An’ I’m thinkin’, Daryl’ll get it, right?  Maybe he’ll be happy to see me.  Maybe I can even lend a hand, prove that I ain’t the same ol’ waste’a space I’ve always been.”

“Merle-”

“But it ain’t like that, is it?  Y’ain’t strugglin’ out here.  Ya’ve gone an’ built yourselves a cosy li’l life.  Ya got a good woman, ya got a roof over your head, ya got food on the table.  People round here, they ain’t got nothin’ bad to say about ya, man!  They trust ya!  Ain’t nobody ever trusted a damn Dixon back home, but here… Shit, ya got out, baby brother.  Ya got free.  So, dont’cha try an’ tell me how hard it is for the two of ya, don’t ya dare, ‘cause the truth is, Darylina, ya don’t got a goddamn clue.”

He was breathing hard when he finally ran out of words, his chest heaving, and the quiet that rolled back in was almost suffocating.  He could feel Daryl’s eyes on him, raking over his face, knew his lips would be parted in shock at his outburst because he knew his brother well enough to know that without having to turn his head and look.  But, when he heard a soft huff of laughter, he couldn’t help but steal a glance, finding Daryl hunched forward over his knees, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Yeah, yer right, man.  I, er… I got lucky, I guess.”  His tone was laced with sarcasm, and he ran a callused hand over his face, catching his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment as he stared down at the thinning fabric of his jeans where it stretched over his joints.  “Ya say I don’t gotta goddamn clue.  My life here… it ain’t perfect.  S’far from it.  Ya don’t even know what we’ve had to give up, what Lex has had to give up for me.”

“Ya not keepin’ the doc in the manner she’s accustomed to?” Merle drawled with a smirk.

“Ain’t about that,” Daryl snapped back, his patience wearing thin.  “S’more important things than money an’… stuff, Merle.  If y’ever thought about anythin’ but where yer next fix is comin’ from, maybe ya’d know that.”  Merle’s eyes darkened, storm clouds gathering in the blue that was the only physical similarity between the two brothers, but he bit his tongue, curious to see where this was going.  “There’s stuff Lex wanted- stuff she wants from life that I can’t give her ‘cause of how we have to live here.  An’ it kills me that she can’t have it ‘cause’a me.  I ain’t never gonna be able to make it up to her, an’ I have to hold her while she cries about it, an’ there’s not a damn thing I can do to make it better.  So don’tcha come at me about how fuckin’ easy my life is ‘cause it’s been a struggle, Merle, every goddamn day.  Ya don’t even know the half of it.”

Merle swallowed hard, and, for the first time, he pushed down his instincts for long enough to really pay attention to Daryl, sensing the pain that seemed to emanate from him now that he’d opened up.  It was almost tangible, a bitter taste in the air when Merle sucked in a breath, and, rather than fight against it, he found himself backing down, wanting to know more, to find out if he could help.  Once, he’d been so protective of his little brother.  He wasn’t even sure when that had turned sour.  “So, tell me.”

“Ya don’t wanna know.”

“You’re my brother, man.  Course I wanna know.”

Daryl sighed, long and heavy, his shoulders slumping as if he was physically deflating in front of Merle’s eyes.  “Y’know she can’t practice medicine here, right?”  Merle nodded, though he hadn’t really given it much thought.  “Ain’t got the paperwork or whatever in her fake name.  Ella Smith don’t got no qualifications, din’t go to med school or none’a that shit.”  He flopped backwards, mirroring his brother’s position to stare up at the sky.  “‘Fore she came to Carrington, she had a fling with this guy, a doctor at the practice she worked at.  S’the reason she left in the end, got driven out ‘cause it ended bad.  An’ now, ‘cause’a me, she’s had to give up another job she loved.  ‘Cept, this time, she can’t just go get another one.  Most she can hope for round here is a job in a bar or workin’ the register in the tiendita, an’ that’s if she can ever settle enough to feel safe doin’ it.  She spends every damn day cooped up in that tiny house; only has the dog for company.  S’a wonder she ain’t lost her mind.”

Daryl was on a roll now, not even pausing to give Merle a chance to respond before he pressed on.  “An’ the one thing that might keep her sane, the one thing she really wants, that’d give her back her purpose…  Hell, the one thing we both want is to be a family, man, like, the kinda family we never had.  She- she wants to be a mom.”

“Ya firin’ blanks, brother?”  The question earned Merle an exasperated glare, but the truth was the moment had become too heavy, too intense, and he didn’t know how else to lighten it.  Daryl’s voice had become thick with emotion, and he’d been keeping his face turned away, and Merle knew that meant that his eyes would be shining with tears, and he hated it.  He hated to see Daryl cry, always had.  He never knew what to do, having never been good at showing his own feelings, and that was something that hadn’t changed.

“Ain’t even tried,” Daryl growled, lacing his fingers together and tucking his arms beneath his head as if fighting back the compulsion to gnaw on the skin around his nails.  “We don’t got no insurance.  Don’t got much of anythin’.  Can’t risk knockin’ her up an’ then somethin’ goin’ wrong.  Plus, how’d ya bring a kid into a world where we could both be hunted down an’ thrown back behind bars at any second?  Ain’t fair.  Ain’t right.  Don’t make it no easier though.”

It was Merle’s turn to sigh now, and his breath caught in his throat, threatening to choke him.  He hadn’t given much thought to Daryl’s situation in any more detail than to be bitter that he wasn’t on his own, that he had Alexa and that they were taking on the world together, where Merle had always felt as if he was standing alone.  It hadn’t even occurred to him that perhaps his brother might want something more.  Hell, if he was honest, he still saw Daryl as a little kid, all blue eyes and dirty blonde hair, scraped knees and too-big hand-me-downs.  He couldn’t reconcile that image with the man beside him that wanted to be a father, to change the Dixon story and break the pattern of abusive parents and dependency.  He realised in that moment that perhaps he didn’t actually know his little brother at all.  “Shit, man, that’s… That’s some heavy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re right.  I- I didn’t know.”

“Ain’t no way ya could’a,” Daryl pointed out, and it was obvious that his anger had been extinguished, the fight going out of him after he’d vented his frustrations.  “Just… We’re tryin’ so hard here, man.  I can’t have ya comin’ in an’ screwin’ it all up.  I don’t wanna put her through that on top of everythin’ else.”

“I get it.”  Easing himself upright and switching his focus to the cracked dirt at the bottom of the bed of the stream, Merle cleared his throat, swallowing down the foreign sense of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him.  “Look, I know I messed up, man.  Ain’t nothin’ I can do about that now.  But it don’t gotta be the end of the world, right?  We’ll just stick with your story.  I was a bottle deep, an’ I thought ya were my brother.  It happens.”

“Maybe.”  From his new vantage point, Merle could see that Daryl’s jaw was still locked with tension.

“What is it?”

“This whole internet thing, s’got me worried.”

“The big-ass antenna, right?  I heard you an’ the doc talkin’ about it.”

Daryl nodded.  “Half the folks round here ain’t never been online, an’ if they have it’s old-school dial-up that takes an hour to load up an email.  But this new high-speed connection… More an’ more people are signin’ up from what I’ve heard.  Feels like s’just a matter’a time ‘fore one of ‘em stumbles across our pictures.”  His voice dropped.  “I think we might be done here.”

“You’re thinkin’ of movin’ on?”

“Lex don’t wanna, but… M’not sure we’ve got a choice.”  He ran a hand through his tangled mess of hair, his fingers catching in the knots.  “I thought we were done runnin’, at least.  Thought we could have a life here, even if it ain’t like she pictured.  Damn stupid.  Guess I should’a known.”

“An’ what happens when the next place gets connected, an’ the place after that?” Merle asked, his intention not to be deliberately antagonistic, but to point out the obvious.  “This is the twenty-first century, brother.  Pretty soon, the whole damn world’s gonna be online, an’ then whatcha gonna do, huh?”

Daryl didn’t have any answers.

*****

Alexa watched from the table as Merle stood over the pot on the stove, stirring it with a wooden spoon and sniffing appreciatively, inhaling the aroma that drifted from the stew in a curl of steam.  The brothers had arrived home with a tentative truce in place and a brace of rabbits which Daryl had prepared on the porch whilst his brother had ducked inside to shower.  Now, Daryl was taking his turn in the bathroom, sluicing away the grime of the hunt, whilst the elder Dixon seasoned dinner with a pinch of salt and a sprinkling of herbs, before turning the heat down on the burner to let it simmer.  He’d yet to say a single word to Alexa since his drunken flirtations the previous day, and his movements were measured as he crossed the room to take a seat opposite her, as if he were trying to make himself smaller somehow, less brash, his expression schooled into neutrality when he met her eyes.  

“Wanna say m’sorry, Doc, if I’ve caused ya any trouble at all.  Wasn’t my intention but, hell, I’m an asshole when I drink.  Should’a known better.”

In all honesty, Alexa hadn’t been expecting an apology.  She remembered Daryl’s icy insistence that his brother never apologised for anything, so it was with wide eyes that she regarded the older man, clasping her hands in front of her on the wooden surface and tugging on her fingers.  “I guess you guys talked it out.”

He nodded, still contrite.  “I was jealous.  Saw whatcha had here, an’ I got bitter, got angry.  Never thought about what it cost ya to start a new life.  Just saw that y’ain’t got no room in it for ol’ Merle.”

“That’s not true,” Alexa made to argue, ever polite, because family was family and it was something the both of them were lacking, but Merle cut her off.

“No need to pretend, Doc.  I’m in the way here.  I get it.  An’ I put ya at risk, an’ there ain’t no way baby bro’s gonna forgive me for that, no matter what he says.”  He huffed a sigh, drumming his fingertips against the tabletop in a steady rhythm.  “I need to get some cash together.  Gonna try an’ pick up some work.  Daryl said he’d help out, recommend me to his contacts.  Then, soon as I’ve got enough, I’ll be outta your hair; let you two lovebirds have your space.”

“Where will you go?”  The concern in her tone was genuine, Merle realised, despite everything, and it made his heart ache in a way that he was sure he hadn’t felt before.  He’d been keeping his emotions at bay for so long, holding them back and numbing them with the drink and the drugs, but now that Daryl had cracked through that barrier, it seemed, everything was amplified.  He wasn’t sure he liked it.

“That ain’t no worry of yours,” he told her, easing himself to his feet as they heard the bathroom door open down the hall.  “You just look after my brother for me, alright?  I ain’t done such a good job in the past, but he’s your responsibility now.  Make him happy, Doc.  He deserves it.”

*****

Drop me an ask if you’d like to be added to my tag list!

Feedback is always appreciated and reblogs set me free Thank you for reading x

Gemma swings both ways

Violently. With a skateboard

Tig, in a church

Tig: -drops his bible- ah, shit.

Church goers give him a dirty look.

Tig: Oh, my bad.

Tig: Holy shit.

If Carl was raised in this meme of a time

Negan: You can breathe. You can blink. You can cry. Hell, you’re all gonna be doing that.

Carl: lmao that’s a fat mood right there. Bet

Negan: Carl, relax. Go get a beer.

Carl: I don’t want a beer.

Negan: Who said it was for you?

Michonne: I’m cold.

Rick: Here, have a hug and a kiss.

Jesus: I’m cold, too.

Daryl: You want me to set you on fire? We’ll both be happy then.

Negan: Carl and I have that kind of easy chemistry where we finish each other’s…

Rick: Sentences?

Negan: Please, don’t interrupt me.

lilhellsangel:

A new Companion

A Walking Dead fanfiction

---

Anwer to this prompt (may contain story spoilers): Daryl finds a half starved puppy while on a hunt, falls in love with its cute little face, and hides it from his group for as long as he can absolutely terrified out of his mind that they’re going to kill it or make him kill it. He’s got a history of bringing home stray animals and his dad finding and killing them, so he’s so convinced that’s what they’re going to do that when they find out he’s all flustered and babbling and Rick has to repeat several times that it’s ok, and he can keep his puppy.

Pairing:None

Genre:Gen

Wordcount:4000

Spoilers: The story takes place after 5x09/5x10

Note: A very huge thank you goes to my lovely beta reader lotrspnfangirl ( on LJ)/ pdlessard07 (on AO3) who did an amazing and very quick job correcting the story. 

picture source

A must read for Daryl lovers!

[SUMMARY: Pre-apocalypse Negan gives into his attraction with his sons girlfriend.]

Negan and Luna PART TWO

Smut

After what happened with Negan that day you hadn’t seen him since. Although, not seeing him didn’t stop you from thinking about him. It was confusing to you why you were thinking of him so much. Maybe it was cause you never expected the attention he gave you to ever come from him…Jakes father. A part of you was flattered, another part of you felt guilty…you were his sons girlfriend after all. One week later you were over at Jakes house having pizza in the kitchen with him thinking his father was at work. Your mind was distracted as you laughed with Jake about a movie you both saw when he looked up behind you and greeted his father.

“You’re home early.” Quickly you looked back to find Negan taking off his jacket and throwing it on a chair.

“Yeah, that mother fucker Lenny.”

“Don’t tell me you got into it again with him-“Jake laughed as you looked back at Jake confused.

“My dad is always getting into a fight with his coworker, he knocked the guy out last time.” You went to look back at Negan not expecting him to be standing so close beside you, his arms crossed over his chest.

“It’s true-“ he looked at you with amusement.

“My father has a bit of a temper.” Jake spoke as he turned his back to you both to grab a drink out of the fridge. Negan looked looked your way with a smirk.

“I just….don’t like to be fucked with..” He kept his eyes on you longer than what felt appropriate. Jake turned back to you both making you quickly break contact before Negan left the room. The differences between Negan and Jake continued to stand out to you. A part of you wished Jake was more like his father, Jake wasn’t really the type to speak up for himself. Sometimes you wished he would take charge more over all in the relationship.

A couple days later Jake took you out to see a movie and have dinner. Anything about Negan you pushed to the back of your mind and simply tried to enjoy your date with Jake. After enjoying dinner and the movie, the two of you walked home together hand in hand. It was a quiet walk as you tried to think of something to talk about.

“So….talk to me” you smiled at Jake as he looked over at you and shrugged.

“I don’t have anything to talk about.” He looked away as you sighed looking at the ground when suddenly a man running by shoved you knocking you down to the ground.

“Thanks a lot asshole!” You yelled as you pushed yourself up off the ground.

“Relax, babe.” Jake shook his head before continuing to walk like if nothing happened.

“Relax?” You couldn’t believe he didn’t even help you up.

“Yeah, relax. It’s not worth saying anything to that guy.” Jake continued to walk not noticing you hadn’t moved from where you were. You couldn’t believe he didn’t even bother to defend you or even look the slightest upset for you.

“Really Jake?” He sighed and turned back to you clearly annoyed.

“What is it now, Luna?”

“Listen, I’m not asking you to risk your life for me but not even asking me if I’m ok? Seriously?” You looked at him in disappointment.

“Obviously you’re fine, so what’s the issue?”

“You’re not the slightest bit upset at the way that guy just ran into me and knocked your girlfriend down?” Jake looked at you confused not understanding why you were upset. Of course he didn’t understand, how would he possibly understand that you were comparing him and his father in your mind.

Negan wouldn’t have stayed quiet.

Negan wouldn’t have let that guy go a step further, you were sure of it.

“Forget it, let’s just get back to the house.” In silence the two of you walked home no longer hand in hand.

Walking into his house, Negan sat in the living room watching a game when he noticed the two of you in a strange mood.

“Who died?” Negan chuckled as Jake looked at him annoyed. Not saying a word you took off your jacket revealing your shimmery v neck purple blouse and black leather pants you wore for your date. If you would have looked at Negan in that moment, you would have noticed the way he devoured you with his eyes. Taking a sip from his beer his eyes remained on you as you turned your back to him hanging your jacket when blocked his view as he walked between the two of you.

“Well you two look nice..” Negans words made you turn to him as he gave you a polite smile. Truth be told…he thought you looked too good for his son, he didn’t think the two of you went well together. He swore if he was his sons age, you’d be the exact kind of looking woman he’d go after and that he knew he would have. Jake rolled his eyes as you stood to the side with your arms crossed, Negan could tell something was going on between the two of you.

“Everything alright?” Negan asked looking over at his son who scratched the back of his head.

“Ask her.”

“I’m asking you” Negan responded rather quickly.

“Why don’t you tell him, Luna. Let’s see what he thinks.” You stood quiet as Negan turned your way, you hated that he put you on the spot.

“Nothing, it’s stupid-“

“Why don’t I be the judge of that.” Negan smiled as he turned his complete attention to you.

“Nothing, some guy accidentally knocked me to the ground running into me and just kept going-“

“That doesn’t sound like nothing to me.” Negan furrowed his brows in a very serious manner.

“And what did you do?” He immediately turned to his son who seemed like he didn’t know what to say.

“I mean, nothing. She was fine-“

“You didn’t say anything to the prick?” You looked at Negan a bit surprised at how invested he seemed.

“What was I suppose to say? The guy ran off.”

“Yeah well, obviously you didn’t move fast enough.”

Jake right away sucked his teeth and threw his keys on the counter.

“Well there you go, Luna. Now you can team up with my dad and blame me”

“Jake, I’m not saying anything wrong.” You defended yourself as he turned his back to you.

“No cause I’m sure my father would’ve done a lot differently wouldn’t he?”

“Listen you’re the one who’s turning this into a competition with your father, it’s not my fault you’re so insecure with him.” You snapped at him as Negan stood aside staring at you both until Jake said the unexpected.

“You know what? Since you like him so much, why don’t you fuck him! Go ahead dad, you can have her.” Jake stormed off as you stood there in shock and embarrassment. There were no words you could say, you felt Negans eyes on you but you couldn’t bring yourself to look his way. Negan himself hadn’t expected his son to say such a thing. Without saying a word you walked out slamming the door behind you, you could feel the heat on your skin. Of all reasons to feel embarrassed and shocked you realized the simple mention of fucking Negan aroused you.

“Jake!” Negan yelled as he went downstairs to the basement.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jake snickered and turned away ignoring his father.

“It’s after midnight you’re gonna just let your girlfriend walk home alone like that?” Negan waited for a response but Jake didn’t say a word. Cursing at himself he rushed back up the stairs and noticed you left your wallet on the counter.

“Shit” he immediately grabbed his car keys to see if he could catch up to you and get you home.

Walking into the first bar that you saw, you instantly began to order yourself shots. You had no idea where this strong attraction for Negan came from but you wished you hadn’t felt this way.

Negan drove around for almost an hour looking to see if he found you around, he knew you didn’t live close by. Driving past the local bar he happened to see you smoking a cigarette outside right before putting it out and walking back inside.

Sitting at the bar, clearly no longer sober, you made friendly conversation with those around you. Negan walked in and instantly spotted you sitting alone gulping down another shot. Walking in your direction he stopped right behind you and heard you ask the bartender for another drink.

“Oh I think you’ve had enough sweetheart,” surprised you turned around to see Negan himself. You couldn’t help but begin to laugh throwing your head back, in disbelief that he was in your presence.

“What are you doing here?!”

Negan looked at you in amusement, he had never seen you so giggly.

“You forgot this-“ he placed your wallet before you.

“Oh wow….thank you.” You smiled at him when the bartender interrupted you both.

“Another shot?”

“Ye-“

“No” Negan immediately cut in.

“She’s done for the night.” You looked at Negan in disappointment as he pulled out his wallet and lay a one hundred dollar bill flat to the bartender.

“Now let’s get you home.” Negan began to help you off the stool as you looked at him confused.

“I don’t..wanna go home yet-“ you practically slurred.

“Oh but you are going home.” Negan easily pulled you up and began walking you towards the exit. Feeling his hand on your waist and the affect of the liquor together only put more thoughts into your head that you struggled to ignore.

“Jakes still mad..huh? I don’t blame him..”

“There’s no reason for him to be pissed at you, he acted like an ass” Negan responded making you look over at him in surprise. He looked away as he continued to walk you to his car. Negan did his best to avoid any eye contact with you, it was getting hard for him to ignore his obvious attraction that he had for you. The fantasies he had about you continued to flash before his eyes.

“Jake didn’t try looking for me?”

“No” Negan responded making you raise your brows.

“You know…I wish…I wish Jake was more like you ..” he didn’t respond nor look your way as you looked up at him.

“Hm-“ you chuckled.

“Are we really going to act like that garage incident never happened?” Negan licked his lips fidgeting as he brushed his hair back. All you were doing was making it harder for him to avoid doing something really stupid. He had done so many bad things in his life but he wasn’t about to make a move on his sons girlfriend. What happened that day he had come to feel some guilt about but he never stopped thinking of it.

“Let’s go” Negan avoided the conversation as he continued to walk you to his truck.

Finally arriving to his car, you stepped aside as Negan unlocked the back door of his truck and opened the door for you. Just as you stepped forward your foot accidentally slid, Negan stopped your foot with his as you slammed into him with a shriek. You gasped looking up at him realizing just how close your face was to his. You couldn’t help but look at his lips as he looked down at you, the way you looked at him only made it harder for him to ignore just how much he wanted to have you.

Just get her in the damn car, get her home then you’ll jerk off. Negan thought to himself but you hadn’t moved, and neither did he. Looking up into his eyes you could tell he was just as aroused as you were. Without thinking a second more you reached up and landed your lips right on his. Of course he couldn’t stop you, he kissed you just as eager as you did, maybe even more. Quickly he picked you up and carried you into the car, laying himself right on top of you in the backseat as he reached behind and closed the door. In that moment, neither of you were thinking, neither of you cared about any consequences. He kissed your neck making you moan, his hands running all over your most sensitive spots. Negan got back on his knees, between your legs he looked down at you as he removed his jacket and unbuttoned his pants. You squirmed with excitement quickly pushing your pants down as you saw him ripping open a condom wrapper. The two of you could hear people walking past the car, the music coming from the bar, you were feeling a way you hadn’t felt in so long. Pulling Negan by his shirt down to you, you kissed him running your hands through his hair as you felt him enter you. Negan rolled his eyes back as if he had finally filled his craving. You felt better than he imagined and the way you moaned…even sexier than what he thought. He thrusted hard practically shaking the truck as you dug your nails into his back.

“Please don’t stop-“ you panted as he looked down at you. He could tell his son wasn’t getting the job done, the way you pleaded for it, moaned for it, the way you held onto him…he knew. Negan continued to move when suddenly your phone rang making you both stop. Looking at your cell phone beside you he noticed it was his son calling you. The look on his face gave it away to you. He looked down at you for a moment before throwing your phone to the front of the car and getting himself up.

“Come here” he sat back on the chair and pulled you his way. You grinned with excitement as you got on top of him and began to ride him. Pulling off your top to let your breasts bounce in his face. His hand going up your back and stopping as he grabbed a chunk full of your hair. Grinding your hips on him you watched as he bit down on his bottom lip tugging at your hair harshly. You didn’t remember the last time feeling this turned on and excited during sex.

“You like that don’t you?” Negan smirked before tugging at your hair even harder making you squeal. He pulled you to him and kissed you as you moaned, stretching his legs out he slouched himself lower and began to thrust upward. Now both of his hands dig deep into your hair he pulled as he thrusted hard. Screaming from the pleasure he was making you feel you held onto his shoulders when you noticed how red he became.

“Shit-“ he choked out before moaning in a way you had never heard a man moan before, the deep sound of it echoing through the car. He threw his head back out of breath with his eyes closed.

“Holy shit..” you yourself out of breath leaning on him when Negans phone began to ring.

“Fuck-“ Negan whispered as you looked around for where the ringing was coming from.

“Maybe you should take me home now.”

After the two of you got dressed you sat in the passenger seat of the car sort of in shock with what you had just done. Negan smoked a cigarette outside as you looked through your cellphone and found a text of a long apology from Jake. Guilt settling in you didn’t say a word as Negan opened the door and got in the car. He noticed you quickly put your phone away and look out the window.

“Hey..” he looked over at you waiting for a response but you didn’t say a word.

“Luna-“

“Just take me home.”

Negan didn’t say a word and started the car driving you home. You felt him continue to look your way on and off way as he drove, yet you wouldn’t budge. He took a deep breath squeezing the steering wheel as he turned the corner of your block and stopped right in front of your house.

“Luna-“

“Goodnight, Negan.” You opened the door of the car and quickly got out slamming the door shut. He watched as you walked to your door and waited until you were inside before he drove off.

Once Negan got home he found Jake in the kitchen having a snack.

“Where were you?”

“I drove Luna home.” Negan responded as he turned his back to grab a drink from the fridge.

“This whole time? I called her she hasn’t been answering me. I mean I don’t blame her, I acted like an asshole tonight.”

“I don’t know, I drove her home a while ago.” Negan took a sip of his drink avoiding looking at his son in the eye.

Yeah, drove her home and fucked her in the back of my god damn truck.

“Dad you alright?” Jake asked noticing the strange look on his fathers face.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Negan responded in a cocky manner before walking off to his room.

Days past and Negan couldn’t stop thinking about that night. He wondered if Jake had spoken to you, he wondered if you were thinking about that night at all. Truth was, of course you were. Jake continued to blow up your phone begging for forgiveness, the guilt rising up in you like nothing you had ever felt. The worst part of it all, was that you wanted more.

Walking out of work one day, Jake surprised you waiting for you out front.

“Luna-“

“What are you doing here?”

“Please, please come over and let’s talk.” He was persistent, opening up the passenger side of his car as he looked at you in desperation.

“Fine” you sighed as you got inside. You already knew he would be driving to his house, where Negan was. The thought of seeing him made your hands sweaty, you didn’t know how you would react to seeing him.

Once arriving to his house you nervously walked in and looked around to see if Negans jacket was on the hanger by the door.

Of course it was.

He was home.

Walking into the kitchen you stood still as Jake sat before you.

“Why do you look so tense? I just wanted to talk.” Just as you were about to respond Negan walked in almost stopping in his tracks, clearly shocked to have seen you. Quickly trying to cover up why he reacted the way he did, he cleared his throat and chuckled.

“Luna, haven’t seen you around here in a while.” You smiled with a nod but you wouldn’t look up at him, he could tell how hard it was for you to look him in the eyes. All Negan could do was replay the sight of you naked in his head, the sounds that came out for your mouth when suddenly Jakes phone rang and took him right out of his thoughts.

“Crap” Jake sighed as he grabbed his backpack.

“What?” You asked confused.

“I accidentally took the keys from work and now my coworker can’t get in. I’m gonna drive by quick to drop it off. You mind waiting for me here?”

“I-I um…-“

“It’ll be quick” he insisted as he walked towards the door.

“I’ll be back soon, don’t worry” before you could say anything else, Jake walked out the door leaving you and Negan alone.

It was hard to bring yourself to look at Negan, but you could feel his eyes heavily on you. Wearing a pink floral summer dress he looked down at your body and back up to your eyes.

“I should go-“ just as you stepped to leave, Negan blocked your way.

“Please..” you whispered squeezing your eyes shut.

“We’re not gonna talk about what happened?”

“I can’t.” You whispered as Negan stepped closer.

“You can’t or you won’t? Look at me dammit.”

“I can’t!” You practically screamed as you felt your nerves getting the best of you when Negan grabbed your face and made you look up at him. Why did everything he do turn you on?

“And why is that?” He asked in a low voice. You couldn’t speak, your eyes falling to his lips you quickly moved your face away and stepped back when Negan began to chuckle.

“You’re still thinking of it…aren’t you?” He squinted his eyes as you gulped nervously. The thought of it made you hot. Negan could tell he had you wrapped around his finger. He stepped closer to you making you back up against the counter when he suddenly and unexpectedly lifted your dress.

“Negan..” you whispered knowing damn well you wouldn’t have it in you to stop him.

“Look at me” he whispered hoarsely but you couldn’t. You gasped when his hand slid between your legs and softly teased you with his finger over your underwear. The look on your face told him everything you felt.

“This is my pussy now, isn’t it?” Negan smirked as you began to breathe faster. Again, you didn’t respond as you stood frozen before him.

“Let’s see..” you felt his finger pull aside your lace underwear and instantly feel how soaked the tip of his finger became.

“Oh yeah….your pussy is mine now..” you rolled your eyes back as he began to rub your clit.

“Negan…please..” you whispered as he moved his hand faster. Moaning you grabbed onto him as your knees felt weak, Negan stood against you watching as you came close to orgasm.

“Oh-“ you gasped as you grabbed onto his shirt and shook against him, Negan held you up with his other arm around your waist as you screamed against him holding him tightly. Out of breath you leaned back on the counter as Negan took his finger and sucked all your juices off of it.

“Just like I thought.” He grinned when you expectedly pulled yourself up onto the counter.

“Please..please just fuck me now before he comes home.. please-“ you didn’t have to ask twice as Negan pulled his backs down showing how hard he was. This time he didn’t bother to put on a condom and shoved himself right inside you. You were so damn wet you soaked the counter beneath you. Moaning uncontrollably Negan fucked you hard and fast, holding your legs high in the air. You didn’t think it could feel any better than it did last time but boy did he prove you wrong. He kissed you passionately and could feel himself about to cum when he heard the door unlock.

“Oh shit, oh Shit he’s back-“ you whispered breathlessly as Negan pulled out and came all over your thighs.

Before Jake reached the kitchen the two of you were dressed and calm, standing away from each other. Jake didn’t notice a thing as you sat at the table and flipped through a magazine. Honestly, you felt like a terrible human being, but this attraction with Negan you couldn’t ignore…not even if you tried.

[SUMMARY: PRE-APOCALYPSE. Negan is attracted to his sons girlfriend.]

Partial smut. Might make a part 2 if interested?

Negan and Luna

It was after five and you knew your boyfriends dad, Negan would be coming home from work soon. It always some what excited you when he’d come around even though your boyfriend Jake would sometimes get annoyed by it. You had met Jake when you started college and ever since the two of you were inseparable. He was very different to his father, looked exactly like him but simply acted in another way.

It was Friday night and the two of you were throwing darts in the basement with another couple, close friends of yours; Ana and Mike. Having a few beers you soon heard Jakes dad walk in the house.

“Ahh, messing with darts huh?” Negan grinned as he walked down the stairs.

“What’s up Mr.Smith,” Mike greeted him as he passed him a beer. Everyone liked Negan, it was hard not to like him.

“I can never get this damn thing” you sighed as the dart missed the target and hit the floor.

“Come on, Luna its so easy,” Jake laughed.

“Just grab the dart find a target and hit it!” He explained to you making Negan raise a brow.

“That’s how you show your girl how to play darts?”Negan chuckled before grabbing a dart and eyeing his target before he threw it and got it right in the middle.

“Fucking bullseye!” Negan exclaimed excitedly making you laugh.

“You make it look so easy” you sighed as Negan picked up another dart.

“Here, I’ll show you.” He walked towards you as Jake got distracted with something he remembered talking to Mike and Ana. Thinking Negan was going to stand beside you, you stood still when he walked around you and stopped right behind you. As Jake continued to talk to the others, you unexpectedly felt Negans hand on your waist.

“Alright, so this is what you’re gonna do-“ he gave you the dart and lifted your arm aiming for the target. You couldn’t help but look to the side and wonder if your boyfriend noticed what Negan was doing.

“Wait, move a little right here..” Negan guided you to the left as he stood close behind you, so close that you could feel him against you. You didn’t think much of it, you didn’t think Negan was doing this purposely. Maybe he didn’t realize what he was doing. Negans face was close beside yours as he spoke, his lips inches away from your ear. You felt a tingly sensation inside you, butterflies in your stomach. There was something exciting about having this man close to you. Always having found him attractive you didn’t exactly have a problem with this. You gasped when you felt him suddenly slide your feet more apart with his foot distracting you from your thoughts.

“That’s better.” One hand still on your arm and the other on your waist, the two of you didn’t notice that although Jake wasn’t watching, Mike was. Mike raised a brow at the sight of Negan with you before getting back into the conversation with Jake.

“Now when you throw the dart, don’t question it. Just do it.” He whispered into your ear making you slightly shiver against him, the feel of you shivering against him made him discreetly chuckle. Doing just as he said you threw the dart and actually reached the target.

“I got it!” You screamed with excitement.

“Alright!” Negan cheered just as the others looked your way, he quickly let go of you.

“Well finally,” Jake teased as you rolled your eyes playfully.

“She just needed a better teacher.” Negan eyed his son before he winked at you without the others noticing.

“Now look how happy your lady is- you’re welcome.” Negan patted his sons back before grabbing his beer and leaving the room. Jake rolled his eyes ignoring his fathers cockiness as you continued to play darts:

Later on that night the guys went out to smoke while you and Ana stayed behind to catch up with each other. As soon as the guys left she crossed her arms and looked at you through squinted eyes.

“Now what the hell was that about?” She asked with half a smile, excited to hear what you had to say.

“What was what about?”

“Girl don’t act like you didn’t notice that mans hands all over you!”

“Oh Negan?” You tried to hide a smile.

“He was just showing me how to play darts-“

“Yeah pressed up against your ass?” Ana cut you off with her hand on her hip, you bit your lip a bit embarrassed when she broke out into laughter.

“I wouldn’t have minded him all over me either.” Ana admitted quietly before making you begin to laugh.

“It wasn’t even like that,” you insisted but Ana witnessed it all herself.

“Oh honey, you’re so innocent. That man knew exactly what he was doing with you.”

“Please, he’s my boyfriends father for heavens sake.”

“And? Maybe it’s a fantasy for him, maybe he has a thing for you.” She teased making you roll your eyes.

After going back to your house that night you thought over how Negan had never really acted that way with you before. Maybe you were looking too much into it you convinced yourself. Why would Negan be this way with you out of nowhere?

Or maybe it was something you never noticed..

Forgetting about what happened, about a week later you passed by Jakes house to meet him after he came out of class to go see a movie together. Giving you the keys to the house you let yourself in and walked into the living room sitting on the couch. It didn’t seem like anyone was home until you heard Negan come in from the back door.

“Luna! Jake told me you’d be coming by today.” You turned as he made his way to you and greeted him with a smile, you had never seen Negan dressed this way before. He wore a black hoodie with grey sweatpants, either way…he could never go wrong.

“Hi, Negan.” You stood up as he took a quick glance at your body before connecting back with your eyes.

“You need anything till Jake comes?”

“No not at all, thank you.” You assured him as he looked at you intrigued before giving you a nod and leaving the room.

Quietly you sat on the couch scrolling through your phone when you suddenly heard Negan yell from the garage a loud painful grunt.

“Negan?” You turned surprised.

“Fuck!” He yelled again making you quickly stand up and head to the garage.

Negan was hunched over a table clearly in pain, his eyes shut as he slowly stood back up straight.

“Are you ok?” Your voice making him quickly turn his head your way.

“I think I pulled a muscle” he explained making you wince knowing how bad the pain could be.

“Constantly getting these damn leg cramps ever since I had surgery on my knee-“ he began to move and quickly stopped himself in pain again.

“Um, is there anything I can do?” You asked as you stepped closer to him.

“I mean…now that you ask-“ Negan slightly smirked as he turned to you. It was exactly what he wanted.

“I’m gonna need you to put some pressure around my leg.” He instructed looking down at his leg as you looked at him confused.

“Pressure?”

“I’m gonna need you to get on your knees,” Negan slowly looked up at you as his words caught you off guard.

“On my knees? I…maybe-“ You responded nervously looking behind you, what would Jake think if he walked in on this?

“Come on, sweetheart. You’re gonna leave me in pain here? It’s only gonna get worse unless you do something quick.” He spoke calmly yet the tone in his voice had a hint of seduction in it, you could’ve sworn it did plus he had never called you a nickname before.

“It’ll just be a minute..” he insisted. You stood quietly in hesitation looking down at his leg. Negan knew exactly what he was doing.

What would be so bad in helping him with something he was clearly in pain with?

“Ok..” you whispered as you walked before him and slowly got down to your knees. Negan instantly was given the few of your cleavage down your shirt.

“Where..where exactly do you want me to apply pressure?” You asked hesitantly before watching his hand pass over his thigh. Your eyes couldn’t help but glance at the print of his manhood behind the grey sweats. How were you suppose to ignore this? Swallowing nervously you placed your hand on his thigh as he looked down at you and leaned back against the table. You began to squeeze around the area making him clench his jaw as he watched you. Truth be told you were already arousing him and you had no idea. He breathed deeply as he threw his head back and closed his eyes.

“Like this?” You asked him as you squeezed.

“Oh yeah..a little higher..” he responded in a low voice. Your hand very slowly moving up as you could hear the sound of his breathing increase rapidly when he suddenly put his hand over yours. Silently without saying a thing Negan pulled your hand higher, your hand now just right beside his cock.

“Negan..” you whispered when you noticed him begin to get hard.

“Right there, sweetheart…right there..” he spoke smoothly as he guided you to massage the spot right next to his member. You stood silent before you continued to move your hands carefully. Your heart racing as you tried to look away. Was he doing this on purpose? Was this his way of coming on to you? Maybe he really didn’t mean to and just happened to be in terrible pain in this exact spot, you convinced yourself. You noticed his cock twitch behind the sweats and you couldn’t help but imagine what it looked like. You couldn’t believe you were doing this.

“God that feels fucking good” Negan let out a deep breath of pleasure before you looked up and locked eyes with him. The sight of you on your knees so close to his cock made the look in his eyes change in a way you hadn’t seen. You lips were pink and plush, each time you moved forward putting pressure on his thigh Negan watched your breasts squeeze together. He couldn’t help but imagine how his cock would look between them.

“You sure are good with those hands..” Negan smirked as you quickly broke eye contact

“Does it feel better?” You asked wanting to somehow change the subject. Never had you been approached this way before from Negan and you honestly didn’t know how to react but you couldn’t deny…you liked it.

“If I say yes are you gonna stop?”he chuckled when you both suddenly heard the sound of the front door unlock. You gasped quickly getting to your feet as Negan turned his back away from

the door.

“Hey Luna, sorry I got here late.” Jake walked in to find his father with his back turned and you looking for something in your book bag.

“Oh it’s ok, there’s still time to make the movie.” You could feel your skin growing hot from embarrassment, you tried your best to not make it look obvious.

“Dad, I left some pizza there for you. I’ll be back later on tonight.”

“Yeah- thanks.” Negan kept his back turned as he easily walked farther into the garage like if nothing had been bothering him in the first place. That’s when you realized he had been faking it this whole time…and you fell for it.

“Luna?” Jakes voice quickly distracted you making you look away from Negan and to him with a smile.

“You ok?” He asked a bit confused with the expression you had on your face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go before we miss the movie.” You eagerly walked out knowing you weren’t one who could keep a poker face. Jake followed you out as Negan stood still hearing the door close. He promised himself he wouldn’t allow it to get past some innocent teasing on his part but he didn’t know just how badly you would only made him yearn for you more.

I cannot believe how many notes Chapter One has gotten in the last 24 hours! Thank you so so so much to everyone who took the time to read, like, and reblog!
Chapter two is still building the plot, but at least our favorite man is finally around!
Warnings:mentions of rape (from previous chapter), swearing (Negan, hello!)

Chapter Two

Just hang on, just a little longer. Why? It’s useless, no one is coming to save you, you have no food, no water, and you’re slowly bleeding to death. Face it, this is where you die. You can’t die! You’ll turn! The sounds of the dead moaning and shuffling just feet away from you served as a constant reminder of your impending fate. And now you were arguing with yourself, definitely not a good sign.

You weren’t sure how long it had been since you had locked yourself inside here. Several days maybe? Blood loss, dehydration, and fatigue had you slipping in and out of consciousness, despite how hard you tried to stay alert. You knew the end was coming, but you just couldn’t accept becoming one of the dead. There was no way to destroy your brain on your own, not armed with only a knife, not in the state you were in. So you continued to battle with yourself every waking moment.

You let your mind drift to your family, the one you lost when the world turned. You had tried to not think about them before, it hurt so much, and pain made you weak. But now? Well, it seemed fitting to let in some pain, everything else hurt, why not your heart? Goddamn it, goddamn it! You cried to yourself. I’m so sorry guys, I tried, I tried to go on, to make it, but I guess I just wasn’t strong enough.

One of the dead must have heard you crying, as it had shuffled to the glass cage and began growling and clawing at the glass. “Go away, go away!” You yelled hoarsely, to no avail. Several nearby biters heard the commotion and joined the first, their growls growing louder and louder, becoming a surround-sound symphony to your death. You covered your ears to try to drown out the sound, but it was no use, the groans had turned into a roar. Was the ground shaking too? What the hell?

Through your foggy brain you finally realized you were hearing engines, car engines. Omg, people! “Help!” You tried to yell. “Help!” But you were so weak and the dead so loud, you knew they couldn’t hear you. You grabbed Tommy’s knife and used the handle hit the inside of the door, hoping that the sound would carry over the sounds of the dead. Please,you thought, please somebody hear me.

You could just make out the sounds of life over the growling, it sounded like a sizable group of people was outside. You could hear voices, but couldn’t quite make out any words. Several minutes passed, and while you could still hear them outside, it didn’t seem like they could hear you. Please, please, you whispered to yourself. Then, one of the dead outside of the cashiers box fell, obviously having been incapacitated from behind. One-by-one they continued to fall, until they were all gone and you could see your potential savior. You almost sighed out loud, of course, it had to be a man.

The mustached man in front of you looked you over through the glass, quickly assessing the situation. His face remained passive and unreadable as he leaned back and yelled “Hey Boss! We’ve got a live one over here!” You weren’t sure whether to be elated or terrified. You knew you couldn’t last much longer, but the last people you had had contact were the reason you were here in the first place. You sunk back down to the floor while waiting for the “Boss” to come over. Pounding on the glass had refreshed the pain in your side and increased the seepage of blood, you were starting to wonder how you had any left.

“What’ve we got Simon?” Another voice drawled, getting louder as he obviously came closer. “A girl. Looks like shit, but she is alive. I’m not sure for how long honestly.” Simon reported casually. Well fuck you too, you thought, let’s see how good you look after getting stabbed and being left for dead. Simon’s boss finally was close enough for you to see from your position on the floor. His face was also unreadable while he took in the sight before him. “Go see what the others are up to Simon, I need a minute alone with this one.” Simon turned on heel and walked away. No questions. No arguments.

“Well now darling, it looks like you’ve had it pretty damn rough.” His dark eyes were traveling up and down your body, taking in your bruised face, lack of pants, ripped panties, bloody socks and shirt. You could tell that just by looking at you, he knew just what you had been through. “How long you been in that shitbox?”

“I don’t know, honestly. A few days maybe?” You quietly responded.

“You gonna let me in?”

“How do I know if I can trust you?” You asked.

“You don’t.” He answered blatantly. “But it doesn’t look like you’re in any position to fucking gamble.” Fuck. He was right. And he knew it. Confidence radiated off of him like heat from a summer sidewalk. And while he did not seem like a man to cross, he didn’t frighten you either. Maybe it’s the blood loss talking. Shut up.

You struggled up to your elbow and unlatched the lock on the door, falling back to the ground and rolling away from the door with a groan. The man stepped into the room and crouched down next to you. “Hell darling, you DO look like shit.”

“Yeah” you hissed “I guess dying isn’t as glamorous as they made it seem in the movies.” This made him smile, and chuckle darkly.

“What happened?” He asked, his face softening.

“Does it really matter?”

“No, no I guess it doesn’t.” He admitted. “What in the hell am I gonna do with you?” He asked, rubbing his salt and pepper scruff.

“Kill me. Please.” The answer rolled off of your tongue as if you had been planning it all along. You were surprised at how calm you were. You were just so tired of fighting. “I’m not going to make it, and I don’t want to turn, don’t want to be…one of THEM. Please, just do it.” You said, calmly handing him Tommy’s knife.

“Hell doll.” He muttered, running a hand through his slicked back black hair. “I don’t make it a habit to kill women, but it does seem that you have a point. No fucking way you’re making it out of here alive.” You just stared into his eyes, you were ready, you’d been ready. He let out a sigh, taking the knife from you. “Alright, alright. Let’s get this shit over with. Damn doll, I’m real sorry about this. You look like you’d be smoking hot if you weren’t almost dead.” He said with a wink. You couldn’t help but smile, what an asshole, you thought.

He shifted his weight and adjusted his grip on the knife, putting his hand gently behind your head. You grabbed the wrist of his knife hand, halting him for just a moment. “Thank you.” He looked down at your hand on his and stopped dead, his gentle cocky expression instantly turning dark.

“Where did you get this?” He asked.

“What?”

“This knife. Where did you get it?”

“It belonged to the fuckers that attacked me. I used it to get away and brought it with me.” You answered, very confused. Why does it matter?

“Where did they get it?” You could feel anger building deep inside of him, not that it made any sense to you.

“I don’t kn…” you started to say.

“Where?!” He barked, dark eyes flashing.

As confusing as his actions were becoming, something about them was starting to rub you the wrong way. “You know, I didn’t think to ask the history of their weapons as they were raping and trying to kill me. Sorry to disappoint you.” You answered cooly. What the hell was his problem? You could see the wheels turning in his head, but couldn’t for the life of you figure out what he was thinking.

“Nope.” He said, shrugging off his leather jacket and covering you up. “I’ve changed my mind.”

“Wait, what?” You gasped. “What do you mean? Don’t leave me like this! Please!” You felt tears start pouring down your face. What the hell happened?

“Don’t you worry Doll, I’m taking you with me.” He said, scooping you into his arms. The movement sent shooting pain down your side. “Simon! Load the fuck up! I’m ready to roll. Now!” He commanded, his tone leaving no room for negotiations. You barely noticed the commotion of his men loading up to leave, the motion of him carrying you was torture. When he got into his truck it was several minutes before the pain subsided enough to focus, and by then the brain fog had returned, so you rested your head onto his warm chest and let the fog overtake you. “Now don’t you fucking go dying on me now darling, you’ve hung on this long, I need you to hold on just a bit fucking longer.” He breathed into your ear.

“I’ll try.” You whispered before the world went black.

Ok, so after reading soooo many wonder fanfics ( @negandarylsatisfaction , @imagine-thewalkingdead , @grungedaddykinks @crzcorgi , @thewalkingdeadfanatic , I love you all! Your amazing works keep me up into the wee hours of the morning reading! You are all my muses, please don’t ever stop!) I’ve been wanting to try my hand at it. While I’m sure my work won’t be able to compare, I figured Negan’s Smut Week was as good a week as any to try it out! I’ll just do Chapter One for now and post more or not based off of reviews. This one is mostly character/plot development, but I have big plans for the upcoming chapters! Reviews are welcome, but please be gentle with me!

Warnings Violence, gore (it’s a TWD fic, c'mon), rape (trigger warning), swearing, eventual smut.

Chapter One

Your day started out much like any other, you buried the remaining coals from last nights small fire, erased any signs that you may have been there, grabbed your pack and headed back towards road.

You had no real planned route, you’d been working a rough grid scouting for supplies and a safe place to stay for months now since being separated from your group. You kept hoping to cross paths with them again but in this world…you didn’t even know if they were all still alive. You had been on your own when they first found you, when the world turned you were the only one from your family to make it out. You lasted solo for almost a year before finding your group. You had scouted them from a distance for a time, and once you had deemed them trustworthy you had approached asked to join them. Being alone again after all of that time with them….it was a rough adjustment.

You knew the road you were headed to lead to a very small town, and you were hoping to scavenge some supplies from it. Your pack was getting dangerously low, and hunting had not been going your way. The sloshing from your canteen reminded you how low on water you were, and the clear sky showed no sign of rain in the future. *sigh* It would work out, it always did.

You emerged from the woods onto the road, sticking close to the trees for cover. Moans from the trees ahead of you caught your attention, you slowed your pace. Fight, or flight? How many were there? After a moment, three of the dead shambled out from the woods toward the road, they hadn’t spotted you yet, you could duck into the trees and wait, but you knew you could handle them just as easily. You dropped your pack to the ground, and pulled your knife from its sheath at your waist, quickly and quietly making your way around behind the small group. You efficiently dispatched the first walker by jabbing your knife deep into the back of its skull, the second was put down just as easily before it even knew you were there. The third one had heard the commotion and turned to face you, now reaching toward you with its bony fingers dangling with rotted flesh, teeth gnashing. You swiftly kicked it in the chest, knocking it to the ground, before driving your knife through its temple.

You let out a sigh, you hadn’t realized you had been holding your breath. As much as you hated the dead, you couldn’t help but pity them. As easy as it would have been to let these three go, they would have been a risk to any living they passed, and at least now they had a chance at some peace, if there was such a thing anymore.

“Nicely done!” The voice startled you. You jumped back, holding your knife at the ready. “Hey there, settle down, we don’t mean you no harm. We were just passing through and caught some of your handy work! Mighty nice, the way you took care of those biters.” The man that spoke slowly approached you from the opposite tree line with his arms outstretched in the universal “I mean no harm” symbol, still, you kept you knife out and ready. “I’m Thomas, but most call me Tommy, and this here is Bill.”

You paused, sizing them up. They looked clean and well fed, signs that they must have some kind of community nearby. Even if it wasn’t a place you could stay long, you still had things worth bartering in your pack. But could you trust them? They were armed, but not heavily. They each had knives, and the talker, Tommy, seemed to have a handgun tucked into his waistband. What had brought them from the safety of their camp, you wondered? “Y/N.“ You finally responded. “My name’s Y/N. What brings you out this way Thomas, Bill?” Calling him by his formal name to keep things in neutral territory. The desperation of your supply situation the only thing keeping you engaging with them, that and maybe loneliness. It had been months since you had seen anyone else alive.

“Y/N. Well now, that’s a fine name.” Said Tommy, moving closer and dropping his arms, he and Bill were now about 10 feet from you, you took a step back, and they stopped. “Don’t be scared honey, we just want to be friends.”

“I’m not scared, you just never can be too sure about people these days, now can you?” You responded sweetly. It wasn’t exactly true, they did scare you. You had noticed both of their eyes doing a fair bit of traveling over your body. Fucking pigs,you chastised internally. You had experience fighting, in this world who didn’t, but both of these men definitely out weighed you, if it came to that, it would be a close fight. And they both had the advantages of full bellies and good nights sleep.

Tommy put his head back and roared in laughter “You’re right about that honey, you never know who you can and can’t trust anymore now can ya? And to answer your question, Bill here and I are out scouting for supplies for our camp.” Yes! you thought, I was right! They DO have a camp!

“Well,” you began slowly, “maybe I could help you. I’m a pretty good scavenger.” You still weren’t sure about these two, but you needed supplies desperately, at least on a run you could feel them out a little more.

“I’ll bet you are.” Said Tommy hungrily, taking the smallest of steps toward you. “You scavenge a lot for your group, honey?”

LIE Something inside you yelled. These two men were starting to set off red flags in your head, suddenly it was all you could do not to run away. “Um, yeah. In fact, that’s what I’m doing now. They’re waiting for me back at camp, so I’d like to get to it and get back before they start to worry.” You said briskly, turning on heel and walking toward your pack.

“How many of there are you at your camp?” Said Tommy, his footsteps following behind you, much closer than you would have liked.

“Uh…a dozen or so? I’ve never really counted.” You bluffed, picking up your pace slightly, you were closing in on your pack, just a few more feet….

Suddenly, you were pulled to a halt as Tommy grabbed your arm. “Liar.” He breathed. “You don’t have a group, no one is waiting for you, you’re all alone. Aren’t you?”

Fear prickled up your spine. “Don’t do this. Please. Just walk away.” You murmured, hating the weakness in your voice, especially as it just seemed to excite him. You noticed his pupils enlarged, his breath quickened. You took the opportunity to swing your knife toward his chin as fast as you could, at the same time hearing a twig snap behind you, but by then it was too late. BAM!The pain was blinding and intense. What the hell? You rolled on the ground clutching the back of your head and through blurred eyes looked up to see Tommy and …. fucking Bill. He was so quiet you had forgotten about him. Apparently during your altercation with Tommy he had snuck around behind you and when you had tried to stab Tommy he had clubbed you in the back of the head with his knife handle. “Fuck.” You moaned, pulling bloody hand away from your skull.

“Yeah honey, something like that.” Laughed Tommy, unbuckling his belt.

It was then that real panic began to set in. You tried to get up, through your pounding head, tried to crawl away, but Bill grabbed your arms, holding you down. “Don’t worry baby, it’ll only hurt if you struggle. Honestly though, I kind of hope you do, I like it better that way.” He breathed into your ear before licking it. The feeling of him that close to you made you fight harder. You started kicking your legs at Tommy and began screaming in earnest, tears pouring down your face and mixing with the dirt below you.

“Now stop that, this is happening honey, ya might as well accept it.”

“Nonononononono.” It was all you could say, just pouring out of you like a mantra. Tommy roughly pulled your pants off, leaving scratches along your hips. As he began to close in you landed a kick square in his face, causing blood to spray from his nose. “Dammit woman!” He yelled, pinning down your legs with his and punching you in the face. Don’t faint, whatever you do, don’t faint. If you want to live, stay awake.

“Hurry up Tommy, I want some!” Whined Bill. “I’m trying Bill, but this little bitch won’t stay still!” And you weren’t, every time you felt Tommy start to position himself you would shift yourself as much as possible, when he made the mistake of laying on top of you to try to hold you better you bit his shoulder deep enough to draw blood. And then….hot searing pain pierced your side. You looked down to see that Tommy had taken out his knife and stabbed you. Not enough to kill you…yet, he still needed you alive….for now. “That should slow ya down, bitch.”

Shit, shit, shit, shit. This is it. Fuck. You were going to die. These two idiots were going to rape you, and then you were going to die. Would they be kind enough to finish you quickly? Would they destroy your brain or let you turn? With everything this world had thrown at you, with everything you had survived so far, THIS was going to be it? No, it couldn’t be. You had to think of a way out.

Tommy pushed his way into you and you started screaming. Bill covered your mouth, releasing one of your arms in the process. Through the pain you took your opportunity, your grabbed the knife handle sticking out of your side, pulled it out of you, causing pain to radiate throughout your torso, and slashed Tommy in the face. “What the hell?!” He muttered as he pushed back from you. You turned and swung the knife at Bill, managing only to graze his forearm before you began running. You had no idea where you were going, but away from them was a start.

“Get back here you bitch!” You could hear their footsteps pounding the pavement behind you. Your head and side were throbbing with pain, but you knew stopping meant death. Run, just run. You told yourself. “There’s nowhere to go honey!” Yelled Tommy. But he was wrong. Just ahead of you was the town you were headed to only that morning. If you could just get to a building….“Shit, hurry up Bill!She’s getting away!” Tommy must have been thinking the same thing. You saw a gas station, focusing on that instead of the pain, your feet were beginning to bleed through your socks from running on the hard pavement. The glass front of the gas station was broken, but it was the closest building and you could feel Tommy and Bill closing in on you. There’s got to be a bathroom, or closet, or something. Please. Please. You leapt through the broken window, skidding on glass as you landed. STAY UP! you chastised yourself, miraculously staying on two feet. Then you saw it, salvation. The bulletproof glass cashiers box. “You fucking bitch! Get back here!” You ran toward the cashiers box, throwing open the mercifully unlocked door, slamming it shut behind you, fumbling with the latch sliding it into place just as the two men reached the door.

“No!!!!” Screamed Tommy. Pounding on the door with his fists as Bill tried hopelessly to open the door. You started to laugh, leaning up against the door. You could hear them on the other side, but it didn’t matter anymore, you were safe. “C'mon honey, I think we got off on the wrong foot. Why don’t you come on out of there and let us take you back to camp? We’ll get you all patched up and talk this out, what’d'ya say?”

You couldn’t believe him. Did he actually think you were that stupid? You flipped him off through the glass with a small smirk on your face. Fuck you assholes. Eat shit and die. you thought.

“You know what honey, that’s alright. You go ahead and stay in there as long as you want. You’re bleeding pretty good there, and you won’t last long with no food or water. You’ll be dead in no time, and then you’ll be a biter just like the rest of them, no skin off of my nose. At least I got a small taste of that sweet ass before it went to waste.” Tommy sneared through the glass. Your smirk was immediately replaced with a look of terror. Shit. He was right. Shit, shit, shit. “C'mon Bill, let’s get back before the boss starts looking for us. And hey, at least we have her pack to take back so we don’t go back empty handed! Toodles honey! See ya around!” And with that, they were gone, leaving the door open allowing a few of the passing dead to enter the station, effectively cutting you off from the supplies inside.

You slumped down to the floor and finally began to take stock of your injuries. Your head was throbbing, and still seeping blood from your initial blow, beneath your socks your feet were ripped and bleeding from the pavement, you could feel bruises forming on your arms and thighs from being pinned down, and between your legs was throbbing with pain. The worst though, was your side. You pulled your shirt up to take a peek and almost vomited from the sight. The wound was small, but jagged and deep. Obviously he has missed any major organs or veins, but he wasn’t lying, blood was seeping out at an alarming rate. You looked around in the cashiers box for any supplies, only to find receipt tape, old magazines, garbage, and the knife you had pulled out of yourself and escaped with. You finally grabbed a wad of napkins from the garbage, pressed them to the wound, and sunk to the floor, holding as much pressure to the area as possible.

You wanted to sleep, but the blow to the head and the blood loss scared you. I can’t die, not like this. I can’t become one of those…monsters. You focused instead on memorizing the details of your new surroundings to keep you alert as long as possible. After counting the dust bunnies under the counter 100 times (47) you turned your attention instead to the knife by your side. It was in great shape, and was actually a fine knife. Had it not been inside of you you would have liked it a lot more, but it did enable you to escape, so it had that going for it. As you turned it over you noticed something carved into the handle. You licked your finger to wipe off some of the blood to better make it out. What the hell? Engraved in the handle was a baseball bat wrapped in…barbed wire? What in the hell was this world coming too?



________________________________________________________

Thanks for sticking through to the end! This was WAY longer than I expected it to be! I hope it wasn’t too slow, I really wanted to set the scene. We’ll meet the man in the next chapter, and we haven’t seen the last of Tommy and Bill. I promise a slow burn and smutty goodness to come in the future.

thegirlwhowritesfics:

sassymox:

lingeringlilies:

Today, Amazon announced the imminent launch of its newest endeavor, Kindle Worlds, a publishing platform for fanfiction. When I read the announcement, I was horrified, then angry, then sad. I want to take a moment to explain why this is such a tragedy.

Keep reading

@axelwolf8109@wrestlingfae@hardcorewwetrash@superrezzy00@writinglionqueen@sethsevolution@thegirlwhowritesfics@chibsytelford@adriennegabriella@darktammy@vonschweetz@flawlessglamazon@gold–gucciempress@imagination-of-a-fandom-slut@kingcorbins@nerdbrose@queenofthefallenangels@youcantreignonmyparade@shaniquacynthia@ladymoxley @theworldofotps@new-zealand-chic@nicolewoo@rebelwrites And anyone else that writes fanfiction, you MUST read this and heed the warning.

I just threw up a little this is fucking horrible

Blast this to all the writers you follow! I cannot find my tag list atm so I’ll just wing it off the top of my head and of course i can’t think straight right now

@hanaissupergirl@coffee-obsessed-writer@crossbowking@imagineredwood@come-join-themurder

Request:hi i was wondering if i could request a glenn x reader in the later seasons where the reader is new to alexandria and is quiet/shy but is still tough and smart and impresses the group at times, and ends up becoming close with glenn? please :) i feel like there aren’t enough glenn fics he’s my favorite

A/N: I feel like I really missed the mark here but it came out kinda cute so I kept it.

The Walking Dead

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

You had been more than grateful when Deanna put you on the gardening committee. A nice, quiet, assignment that was in stark contrast to the hell that you had endured outside the walls. It felt eerily like the old world in a way that you found more comforting than strange. No one expected you to go back out there and face down walkers or fight off other communities who were threatening to encroach on your home. All you had to do was wake up every morning and go to the garden and help make things grow.  

“How’s it going?”  

Still, there were times, like when Glenn stopped by the garden and lingered a little longer than he had to on his way to wherever he was going, asking about your day or how you felt you were fitting into life in the wall, that you wished you were just a little bit braver.  

“The strawberry seeds Carol brought me last week are starting to sprout a few leaves,” you replied, glancing over at the strawberry pots that you had on the steps of the back patio. The garden was made from the backyards of two empty houses, one of which Deanna had offered to you. You envied Glenn sometimes, and his family, for having people around. At the end of the night, when you went home, it was empty and you were reminded that you were alone. “It’s a long way from actual strawberries-”

“That doesn’t matter,” Glenn cut in, “I mean, just the leaves are a good sign. Any good news feels like a weight off my shoulders.”

“I’m sure, especially going out there everyday. I mean, I don’t go out myself but it’s nice to have something to return to.” You wiped your hands against your gardening apron as you stood there.  

The sun was getting lower quickly, blue hour settling in around you. The spring days were hotter than you remembered them and you lost time in the afternoon trying to avoid sun burn and exhaustion.  

“You should come out with us sometime,” Glenn had breached the subject before, always casually like this and always accepting when you turned down the offer. You knew that he was mindful of the time you’d spent out there and any trauma that you were still working your way through. He still asked though, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to offer, as if he was asking you to go to the mall with him or somewhere similar.  

“I don’t think I’m ready for that.” You replied honestly. You’d heard from a few of the more gossip-hungry people in the community that Deanna’s son Aiden had died outside the walls with Glenn, before you had been found on a scouting mission.  

“Well,” he clasped his hand over the handle of the shovel sticking up from the ground, leaning against it just enough that it didn’t tip over, “in case you ever change your mind, it wouldn’t have to be everyone. Maybe just the two of us or something? There’s a few houses outside that are still pretty stable, nice to walk around sometimes.”  

That was a new offer, usually he just left you to your work and didn’t try to push. Not that this was full on pushing. “I’ll think about it.”  

Glenn lingered a moment longer before telling you goodbye and heading for the house he lived in. You’d see him later in the night, once the light fully died and the streetlamps flickered on, Rick had called a meeting in the morning and you knew that once he and his family started to congregate at the small make-shift chapel, so would everyone else. You’d have a quick and quiet meal, washing up after a long day of tilling weeds and planting what you were confident would grow up first. It was hard to tell exactly what time of year it was, only that the cold was finally ending but it was hotter than you expected.  

Once you were washed up (and recovered from feeling slightly horrified that Glenn had seen you looking so exhausted and sweaty, not that he hadn’t seen you looking worse) and dressed, the streetlamps were on so you headed to the chapel. You weren’t too bothered getting there early but you avoided Gabriel, heading inside and taking a seat near the middle while he was outside talking to people.  

“Grabbed a good seat already?” Glenn asked, placing his hand on the back of the pew you were sitting in, his knuckles brushing your shoulder blade.  

“Oh yeah,” you tilted your head, looking up at him, “I figured there wasn’t much to do at home once I finished dinner.” You scooted over further into the pew, “do you wanna sit?”

“Thanks,” he slid in and angled his body toward you. A few other people filed into the chapel, talking quietly to each other as they found seats of their own. “What’d you have for dinner?”

“Nothing special…I’ve been trying to make the harissa sauce I used to make…before this. I think I perfected it.” You replied, “and I was thinking about your offer to go out…maybe, if you wouldn’t mind taking me fishing. I remember seeing a river not far off…it should be around fishing season, if I’ve got my time of year right.”  

“On one condition,” Glenn posed, “we have dinner together.”  

“Looking for a free meal?” You joked.  

More people came in, sitting around the two of you, and Rick headed up to the front of the room with Deanna to talk about the week passed and the one ahead. You got bored of the chapel meetings even though you knew they were important.  

Glenn shrugged beside you, “looking to spend some time with you,” he replied. When he’d first met you, out in the woods on a canvassing mission with Daryl and Aaron, he’d been shocked to see someone (even though he knew there were encampments around) but he’d been the one to coax you back to Alexandria. You were closed off and cautious around everyone, himself included, but he was persistent in making sure you felt like you were fitting in and comfortable and like this place could be a home to you as well. In that amount of time, he’d seen you grow into someone more confident and happier than you said you’d been in a long time and he knew that his attraction was more than friendly.  

If this was years earlier, if he was still at the Greene Farm or even back in Atlanta, he wouldn’t have been so confident himself. But he was a different person now too.  

“What a coincidence,” you joked, leaning close to Glenn to whisper the last part as Rick started speaking, “I was looking to spend some time with you too.”

-

Taglist: @easnuppa@alexoberlinluthor@lvspit@ellerelly@carnationworld@butterflymoons@alexxavicry@officerrfriendlyy@aureamelendez