Night is falling. Daryl became quiet, though you know he isn’t
sleeping. He doesn’t move, you don’t move. His breathing is slowed, hardly
there. You take to feel his heart every once in a while just to make sure he is
You hear the walkers closing in, though you both smell like
death now, they stay away. But for how long, you aren’t sure. One of them is
bound to find out you aren’t one of them.
“We should get going.” You whisper to him, kissing the top of
Daryl grunts but he gets up shortly, pulling you with him.
Nothing is said on the way back to the bike, nor to the prison. He’s locked
away in his own little bubble again, lost in his mind. You suppose he needs it,
but he doesn’t let you go, not even when he tries to go up to his cell.
No one says anything. No one asks, no one speaks. The eeriness
makes you nervous, it’s like they all know, yet they don’t.
The next day, Rick explains that everyone should pack up and
get ready to leave, because the prison is no longer safe. He wants everyone to
remain safe, and your dreams of making this place a home are crushed as you
find Carl and Beth shoving as much as they can into their bags.
By now, Daryl seems okay. The shock is gone, though he does
seem quieter than normal, even for him. He spends most of the morning fixing
his bike. Something broke off and something needed replacing, though you can’t
remember what they are called. You let him do the fixing while you told everyone
what happened with Merle.
You walk over to Daryl after a while, putting your bag
beside the bike and watching as he tinkers. Now he’s just wasting time, needing
something to do. “The sexiest mechanic I have ever known.” You tease him.
Daryl hesitates and you see his cheeks flush just a little. “Hush,
you.” He grumbles.
Carol walks over, a smirk spread across her lips. “I have to
“Back off, he’s mine.” You laugh and watch his cheeks turn
“We can share.” Carol giggles and reaches her hand out for
Daryl to take. He looks up at it, deciding whether or not to take it. “I won’t
He slips his hand in hers and she helps him stand up, the
wrench and rag he had in his lap falling with a crash to the ground. “I ain’t
okay wit’ that.” He warns, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you to his
side. “Imma one woman man.”
“Poo. That’s no fun.” Carol bats her eyelashes and walks
off, heading toward one of the cars.
You kiss Daryl’s cheek and grab his quiver for him. “We’re
about to head out. You ready?” You look up at him. He nods, kissing the top of
“They ran away!” You run over to the others with Maggie
and Glenn. The three of you are dressed
in armor, wielding some of the guns found in the prison. “His people, they were
so scared!” You laugh.
Rick shakes his head. “Don’t think that’s the last of them.
Let’s go inside.”
Your smile fades as you look over at Maggie and Glenn. They
shrug and watch as everyone else goes inside to check on the others.
“We’re staying here.” Maggie looks at you. “With the others.
What if he does come back?”
“I’m going then. They’ll need the extra power, but you two
stay. Protect the others while you can.” You look between them, seeing just how
cute they are together, how well they work. “They were scared but he has a lot
more people than that. I’m afraid…”
“We know.” Maggie places a hand on your shoulder. “You love
‘Love’ is always such a funny word to you. It means so much,
yet to some people, so little. Loving a man like Daryl Dixon isn’t for
everyone, but that’s what makes it special with you. It doesn’t take you
anything to fall in love with him every day. It’s the same way with Glenn and
Maggie, except they don’t care who sees and Daryl is more private.
“And we have to stick with the ones we love.” You smile.
You ride off, on the back of Daryl’s bike once more. Glenn
and Maggie stay behind with the others, vowing to keep them safe if any more
attacks occur. This time, Daryl doesn’t say anything, neither does Rick or
Michonne, about you joining. They know you need to do this, that you can.
It isn’t far down the road does Daryl stop. You look around
his shoulder and see the governor’s vehicles stopped in the road, dead bodies
and walkers all around.
Michonne and Rick walk over, killing the few walkers that
remain while you and Daryl keep an eye out, making sure no one survived. This
looks like the doing of Phillip. He’s scared.
You walk over to one of the dead bodies and take the ammo
off their body after spotting the same gun as yours. You pocket them, still
carefully glancing around to make sure no one sneaks up behind you or the other
There’s a soft noise like a fist hitting glass behind you.
You and Michonne turn around, seeing Daryl duck out of the way and Rick pull
open the door to one of the trucks. A woman pops out.
“Explain.” Rick pokes her in the back. She holds her hands
in the air.
She turns her head to look at you and Michonne, her
eyes full of regret. “He made me do it…
I didn’t want to. I didn’t know…” She begs.
“I said, explain.” Rick says through his teeth. She jumps a
“He shot us down… I swear. He shot us down and now he’s
It wasn’t hard getting into Woodbury, it wasn’t hard finding
Andrea. She was locked up in the same place Glenn and Maggie were, though she
wasn’t in the chair that was clearly made for her.
What was hard, however, was seeing her neck bitten into,
knowing that she is slowly turning into one of those things. You stand to the
side, allowing Rick and Michonne to hold her, to comfort her. She’s almost gone
as it is.
Andrea was never your favorite person in the world, but Rick
makes a great point. She was once a part of the group, a part of you. She may
have bad taste in men, she may be a little naïve, but she was part of the
family on Hershel’s farm.
Daryl is the first one out. He doesn’t want to see her shoot
herself, and neither to you. You follow him out and watch him kneel, hiding his
face in one of his large hands. He pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes
his head a little.
You walk over to him and place your hand on his shoulder,
closing your eyes and waiting. Rick soon comes over to you, looking at you. He
doesn’t say anything, but looking into his eyes tells you all. He hates this,
he doesn’t like losing people. It is hard.
Hearing the gunshot makes you jump and Rick and Daryl grab
onto you. Daryl slides his fingers between yours and holds your hand. Rick
places a hand on your shoulder and bows his head. The shot echoes through the
hallway. You feel your stomach turn as you think of Michonne in there, watching
what just happened.
Daryl grips your hand tighter and Rick glances at the door,
waiting for it to open and Michonne to appear. She doesn’t right away. Worry lines
appear on his forehead and his mouth opens a few inches to allow him to breathe
a little better.
No one says anything. What is there to say?
Daryl stands up after a few minutes when Michonne appears.
She doesn’t look up, she doesn’t say a word, she just walks over and out of
Daryl pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head
before he follows Rick and Michonne.
With the governor gone, it’s an easy decision to make.
Tyreese, the man that broke into the prison before, he accepts Rick’s offer to
take his people to the prison, to build a new life and a new home, just as you
Daryl helps fix one of the buses up so the people can ride
back in that. He’s a great mechanic, a great guy. You watch him fix the engine
as Rick and Tyreese gather everyone up, piling them into the working bus,
thanks to Daryl.
Special shout out to @ladylorelitany and @magikat409!
Holding her stuffed bunny rabbit by the ear, little Eleanor “Ellie” Lail shuffled her way down the hall.
She looked around, making sure that no one was out and watching her.
Eleanor had a plan brewing, one that would help her Aunt Y/N Knowles in the best of ways.
Eleanor had been at school, the whole Kindergarten class outside for fire safety week.
There, she had seen a tall, handsome fireman by the name of Patrick. He had dimples and Eleanor knew for a fact that her Auntie loved dimples.
Shoving her bunny into her overalls, Eleanor looked around one more time.
Reaching up until she was on her tiptoes, she hooked her fingers onto the white latch and dropped down to the flat of her feet, using her weight to pull down hard.
Immediately the bell sounded. Eleanor took off in a run towards her Aunties apartment, her little legs moving quickly and her pigtails bouncing.
I shot up off of the couch, hearing the fire alarm once again and the front door slamming.
“Christ, another one!?” I grumbled, rubbing my eyes.
“Ellie baby?” I hollered, searching the hall for her.
“I’m wight here, Aunt Y/N!”
I looked towards the end of the hall to find Eleanor breathing heavily, Mr. Floppy tucked into her overalls.
“Where were you?” I asked her, picking her up.
“Over at Chawies. We was playin’.” she said, wrapping her arms around my neck.
I carried her out the door and down a flight of stairs to go outside and wait for the fire department to show.
As we waited, I found a place on the brick wall to take a seat. My body ached from working so many hours, but I wouldn’t change it for anything.
Ellie was my responsibility now… My sister had passed away about a year before hand and she had left me as the sole caregiver of Ellie.
I made sure that she never hurt for anything; her happiness and well being was my number one focus.
I had nearly fallen asleep sitting up when Eleanor tugged on my shirt, “What Hun?”
She pointed at a fireman, a smile on her face,”Lookit, Aunt Y/N! That’s the fireman that came to my school!”
I couldn’t get a good look at him and that’s when I realized that I didn’t even have my glasses on.
Gah, I hoped that the building wasn’t on fire.
The visit from the men didn’t last long, but some seemed quite pissed.
“Mistur Patwick! Mistur Patwick!” Eleanor called out, flailing her arms.
The man looked over and smiled as he came closer to where we were sitting.
“Well, well. If it isn’t little Miss Ellie, right?”
Eleanor gasped, her eyes wide, “He remembured my name!”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he chuckled.
“Dis is my Aunt Y/N!”
I squinted at the man; he was still slightly blurry.
He held out his hand, “Nice to meet you, Y/N,”
I shook his hand, blushing when I saw his dimples, “Likewise,”
“Hey Patrick! We gotta go, man!” one of the men by the fire truck yelled.
“It’s safe to go back in, but we’ve been asking that everyone keep an eye out; see who’s pulling the alarms.”
“Sure, thank you for coming out.”
“Not a problem. Ladies,” Patrick nodded his head and walked off, his boots thudding on the cement.
When I turned around to pick Ellie up, I found her with her arms crossed and a pout on her face.
“Ummm, okay… Let’s go inside and get you some dinner made,”
For the rest of the night and well into the week, Ellie was in a sour mood.
It was a Thursday night when I had come home early and had all the household work done, that I had decided to follow Ellie to see what she was up to.
That was when I found out it had been her that had been pulling the alarm.
Just as she reached up, I hollered at her, “Eleanor Rose Lail!”
She screamed when she spun around. Her bottom lip began to quiver and her eyes filled with chunky tears.
“Young lady, just what do you think you’re doing!?” I demanded.
She started to hiccup cry, “I- I- I just wanted you to be happy!”
My brows furrowed. I didn’t even know whether to be mad at her or not.
“Ellie,” I sighed, kneeling down.
“I’m sowwie!” she cried, cuddling Mr. Floppy to her face.
I gently took her hand and led her back to the apartment.
“Awre you mad?” she hiccuped.
“I’m not exactly happy, Ellie, but we’re going down to the fire station and you’re apologizing to those men whose time you wasted.”
She sniffled, taking the sleeve of her shirt and wiping her nose, “Yes Ma’am.”
The wind was sharp and cold as we walked to the fire station. Ellie had been quiet the whole time.
As soon as we neared the station, we saw a few of the men were outside washing one of the trucks.
I cleared my throat to gain their attention, “I’m looking for Patrick?”
“Yo, Patrick! Broad out here to see ya’s!”
I pushed my glasses up my nose, finally able to see the dimples clearly as Patrick smiled.
“Hey Ellie, Y/N.”
Ellie immediately teared up as I nodded, “Can I speak to you, privately?”
The smile slipped from his face, concern taking place, “Yeah, sure. Come on in Sweetheart.”
Patrick led us inside where it was warm. The kitchen and living room were practically one room.
“You alright, Y/N?” he asked, folding his arms over his broad chest.
Eleanor looked up at me. I gently nudged her, “Go on,”
She played with her bunny’s ears, her lip quivering, “It was me Mr. Patwick,”
Patrick knelt down to her level, “What are you talking about Ellie?”
“I pulled da fire alarm,” fat tears rolled down her rosy cheeks.
Patrick sighed, scratching his brow with his thumb, “Ellie, Honey, you can’t be doing that. Why would you do it?”
“Because I wanted Aunt Y/N to be happy…”
He looked up at me slightly confused, “I’m not following,”
“You can make Aunt Y/N happy. She takes vewy good care of me! She needs someone take of her too and she’s vewy bootiful!”
“Okay, okay… One thing at a time, Ellie. I’m gonna have some of the guys show you around and teach you a few things okay?”
Ellie nodded and wiped her nose, “You’re not mad?”
Patrick smiled and tucked away a loose curl, “No Honey, but you can’t pull the fire alarm anymore.”
Patrick called one of his coworkers over and had him show Ellie the ropes.
I stood by the couch, staring at my sneakers. When Patrick came back over, he touched my arm.
“I’ll pay what ever fines, just send me a bill.”
“Don’t worry about that. Come sit down.” Taking me by the elbow, he led me to the couch where we sat at the same time.
“It seems we have a little Cupid in our midst,” he chuckled.
I blushed, playing with my fingers, “Yeah… I’m really sorry about the trouble that Ellie has caused,”
“She’s just a kid and she means well, Y/N,”
“Thank you… for being so understanding,” I said, my voice breaking at the end.
Patrick’s brows furrowed as he leaned closer and placed a hand on my knee, “It’s no problem, Sweetheart, really.”
I cleared my throat, not knowing what possessed me to spill my guts, “My sister passed away in a car wreck about a year ago,”
Patrick’s other hand rubbed my back, “Ellie’s mom?”
“Shit, I’m sorry, Y/N,”
“Eleanor means well… I guess, maybe I should let go of a few hours at work so that I can be home with her more… I just don’t want to drown in bills,”
We fell in a comfortable silence as Patrick continued to gently rub my back.
“Listen, Ellie did get something right,”
“You are very beautiful,”
I snorted, slapping a hand over my mouth after the noise escaped me.
He did have some amazing dimples when he smiled.
He licked his lips and smiled, “Let me take you out, on a real date.”
“Oh I don’t-”
“C'mon, just one and if you don’t wanna go out again, I’ll take it as it is. Please?”
I stared into his eyes, seeing the genuineness there. Nodding, I decided to live a little, “Okay,”
“Yesss!” Ellie screeched, making us both jump at the high pitched sound.
Summary : Lucy was a 24 years old lone survivor, in her path of survival and escaping death , she stumbled across The Saviors who took her to The Sanctuary, where she found shelter and food. But what she didn’t know was that the girl who always hated and bullied her at school, is one of Negan’s wives (Frankie ) and is about to turn her life into a living hell all over again!
That night ,Lucy sat in her room crying, after she made sure to lock the door so nobody would disturb her. She lost faith at that moment and she always gets angry with her maker when something bad happens to her. But this was the worst of all worse things. As if her life wasn’t meant to be on the right path. She kept losing people who where close to her, who loved her and sincerely cared about her.
Summary: You know he loves you or at least you think he does, but what do you have to do make him realize that he does or in the least he cares. Im horrible at descriptions!
Authors Notes: Definitely a smut fic but with a twist.
“I won’t” her emerald pupils dimmed as she inched closer to his face.
“Why aren’t you lonely” leaning closer she purred, her fingers slowly inching up his thigh to his lower region.
“Because I can’t and I haven’t forgotten” leaning into the lush fur of her chair he rebelled grasping her hand and placing it back on her knees. And then he slowly stood buttoning his cotton shirt as he gracefully strode to the door.
“You still think of her even though you’re different, even though you know she wouldn’t approve of who you became” she sat on her legs and her shoulders dropped in defeat.
“I loved her and the end of the world never changed that” he reached for the knob, his hands sweaty and slightly trembling as he grasped the door and opened it.
Turning slightly on his heel he looked at your face watching as tears trickled from your half closed lids. “I’m sorry….I am truly sorry (y/n), but I won’t not with you”.
The door shut and your composure crumbled. His scent still lingering in the stale air as you gathered your knees to your chest. His name pressed upon your lips as you sat in the heap of your despair.
“Simon” a soft whisper crept from your lips as you stared blankly at the door. He was gone and he hadn’t wanted you.
Days seemed longer and weeks passed like years before you. In the mess hall you sat alone nibbling on your food, your eyes glued to the wooden table as you ate. Had someone spoken to you, tried to hold a conversation, or make a joke that you didn’t seem to find funny even though almost everyone else did? You don’t even remember the last time you smiled or cared to laugh and it seemed like a decade ago, apart of the old world or some distant dream you faintly recall.
When Simon rejected you the entirety of your world ceased. Getting up in the morning and sleeping at night seemed to be an impossible task, not with his scent still lingering on the chair you descended into to feel as though he had wrapped his arms around you.
You even watched him sometimes the way he chatted with other girls, the way he passed you with one of them clenching on his arm. Not a care in the world of how you felt or what you wanted.
You loved him very much even before the world ended. Before anything happened you loved Simon because he understood you. He comforted you when it seemed like you were at the edge of life and wanted nothing else but to let go.
“(Y/N) look at me keep your eyes on me and listen to my voice”
“Please sir let me jump I just want it to stop no one will miss me”
“I will i’ll miss you”
“Thats impossible you don’t even know me”
“Well let’s change that…I’m Simon”
You had this feeling in your gut as you looked to bustling city below. You knew the world would still turn regardless if you left. He [Simon] was doing his job and if you stepped down from that ledge he’d never take time to know you.
Inching closer to the ledge you looked one last time at the oblivious masses beneath your feet.
“Listen to the sound of my voice, trust me”
He’d gotten closer and he stood on the ledge with you his as his chest pressed against your back.
“Trust me (y/n)”
His hands crept up your arms slowly turning you when they reached your shoulders. You stared into his hazel eyes and all your worrying and anxiety numbed.
It was the first time you stared into his eyes, the first time he’d touch you, and the first time he’d cooed you to solace. Then one rainy night, in his small loft, midst a game of chess your fingers lightly caressed and your eyes met. He sighed and gazed at your glistening pupils. And with the skipping of your heart and tiredness that seemingly gave you courage you leaned forward and planted a kiss.
It was pure passion and all the tension that had led the two of you to that moment, on twisted silk sheets and dim moonlight he made love to you for the first time.
Why had he changed and why had he brought her into the equation?
Obliviously gliding through the halls you traced you thin fingers along the wall. Your head resting on your chest as you softly breathed when suddenly a familiar essence crept into your noise.
“Simon” you exhaled as you halted your stride daring to look up.
He’d shaved and his damp hair glisten with beads of sweat. His hips thrusted forward as he grunted. The harlot between his legs stood with her legs wide and her mouth agape. It seemed as she desperately tried to scream the sound choked in her throat.
You were horrified and it felt as though you had been ripped apart, as though Simon had stabbed you. And in panic you turned ducking behind the thick layer of wall that cut into a corner.
Why, why was he being so cruel?
In a daze you felt among the walls willing your shaking legs to move. You had to leave, you had to be anywhere else but here.
Your destination had been your room, but the reminder his scent lingered there caused you to change course. To the sunlight and dewy clouds, to the growls of neighbouring dead and faintly to the baritone voice of your leader, Negan.
“We’ve encountered a slight problem, our home, our safe place is thrived on what we take and what we have and this morning it was brought to my attention that food shortages has been discovered, that our villages haven’t been bearing enough food and that is a fucking problem, so you my soldiers, my faithful men go out into the world and bring me some fucking food”.
It was a huddle of leather and then the sounds of doors closing before you knew you sat in one of the trucks. Your hand slightly trembled and your eyes focused on the windshield. Then the rumbling of a an engine and the shouts of that familiar voice that caused your thoughts to cease. When did he return had he finished fucking his whore?
Slowly raising your eyes you meet Simon’s gaze as he stared at you in shock. Then there was hands on the glass of your window and a look that said roll it down before I break it.
In compliance you rowed down the squeaking glass sheild.
“Where do you think you’re going”
Almost mechanically with your eyes glued to that filthy windshield “Negan needs more men”
“Yes but that doesn’t mean you, you haven’t had proper training you could get hurt”
“Does it matter, I mean since when is it a concern of yours rather I live or die we’re expendable”
With a vile rebellion you rowed up your window eyes fixed on the dirt road. The car jerked then and you began to move.
He stood there trailing the truck with an intense gaze and as you looked at him in the rearview mirror your heart pounded. He cared, Simon finally cared and all you had to do was put yourself in danger.
Request- “So glad you’re back!! Could you do an imagine where (Y/n) is a worker at JW, and she happens to be at the paddock when the I-Rex escapes and, she’s hiding in the same truck Owen cuts the gas lines to? So when she realizes the truck isn’t going anywhere she’s incredibly frustrated takes and takes some of that frustration out on Owen when she finally meets him and he just kind of laughs it off before realizing she could help him with the situation and recruits her to get the I-Rex under control.” + “Can you do one where the reader has feelings for Owen but becomes a tiny ball of sass and hostility to try and hide it. Of course Owen sees right through that though. And yeah you can take that wherever. P.S I’m glad you don’t do smut. You rock and I love your writing.”
A/N- I kinda made them best friends. If you’d like it different I’d totally rewrite it! (IM TERRIBLY SORRY ITS SHORT AND I COMBINED REQUESTS AND IM SO SORRY. IVE BEEN SUPER DUPER STRESSED. BUT THANK YOU TO THOSE WHO HAVE MESSAGED ME OVER THE PAST FEW MONTHS! YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE AND I LOVE AND APPRECIATE YOU SO MUCH!) [ALSO IM ON MOBILE SO IM SORRY IF SPACING ISNT CORRECT! MY LAPTOP IS STILL BROKEN SO. And sorry for talking in caps!]
The large creature roared as the gate closed on her, you jumped into one of the trucks and ducked towards the back where supplies sat. You cringed each time she’d roar. Soon enough, her rumbling steps faded. You jumped in the front and tried to follow after her. The car wouldn’t move. You threw open the door, nearly beheading the beloved raptor trainer.
“Jesus Christ, Y/N! Watch it!” Owen shouted as he narrowly dodged the door. As you caught of a whiff of gas, you leaned towards the former Navy-man. Your eyes narrowed.
“You! You cut the gas lines! I was going to follow that thing! Why? Why in the world would you do that! You incompetent man!” You exclaimed before hitting his chest a couple times. He escaped your grip and rubbed his ,most likely to be bruised, chest.
“Hey! In my defense that thing would’ve killed me!” He argued, his green eyes narrowing. Within that second the anger drained from his face and he just laughed. And laughed. And laughed. You angrily stomped your foot.
“Why don’t we just go get that thing and get the fuck out of here?” Owen stopped laughing and nodded.