“Where is she?” 

Rick’s voice. Daryl hears him from the kitchen. Voice loud, angry, the sound of his footsteps and the way he slams the door. 

Daryl knows why he’s angry. ‘Course he does. But even if he didn’t know, it’d be easy for him to guess, because Rick is never loud. Never careless or rough with anything in his home, in his community. He doesn’t slam the door, he doesn’t drag mud into the house, he doesn’t speak badly about anything or anyone behind these walls. 

He cares about this place, with a passion beyond that of a normal leader. Daryl knows it’s because he sees Alexandria as a symbol of something more. Hope, maybe. A better future. A place to build, in a world where everything’s already been destroyed. As far as anyone knows, this could be the last decent place in the entire fucking world, and shit if Rick doesn’t want to protect that. 

It’s why, Daryl thinks, while he’s rinsing out his dirty mug in the kitchen sink because he’s domesticated now - 

It’s why Rick is so fucking mad at you. 

Daryl hates to say it, because thinking anything negative about you feels like it physically hurts him, but there’s no other way to say it. 

You fucked up. Royally. You fucked up so bad, something like dread twists in Daryl’s gut, because he doesn’t know how you’ll ever be able to come back from this. He doesn’t know if Rick will ever forgive you, which is fucked up, because Daryl can. 

You made a mistake. A dumb, fucked up, completely horrific mistake, but he loves you and that’s all there is to it. He already spanked your ass until it nearly bruised, had you crying and angry, remembers the fight you and Rick got in, when he had to physically put himself between the two of you because of how loud it was getting. 

Daryl can forgive you. Shit, he already did, even if he is mad at you. He can do that, because as much as he cares about this community, he cares about himself, about you, more. No matter what happens, even if these walls go down some day and he’s got to go back to permanently camping, as long as he has you, he’ll survive. 

You’re the most important thing in Rick’s life, Daryl knows. That man loves the fuck out of you. But what you did that day at the gate, letting those men in - Negan and his men - well, it’s hard for Rick to get over that. Because what’s happened to the community since, because of what you did, was a little bit like smashing Rick’s plans for the future, all his hope, and flushing it down the toilet. 

How can a man get over that? 

Daryl doesn’t like this. If he shows too much sympathy or love your way, Rick’s weird with him. Not outwardly mad, just makes it awkward since they’re both still living in the house with you. Things are tough right now. Bad, and Daryl wonders how he didn’t realize that life, even with the new resources in Alexandria, still has the ability to turn into a pile of shit, running water be damned. 

Rick enters the kitchen, and Daryl doesn’t say anything. Truth is, he doesn’t like the way Rick’s been treating you. He’s not been mean, per say, because he’s not that kind of man and he still obviously adores you, but his tone is too harsh. He ruins your mood, whenever he comes around, and it puts Daryl in an upsetting situation because he just wants to shake the both of you and get you to kiss and make up. 

You - you need to fucking apologize. And Rick, well - he needs to get over it. If it wasn’t you at the gate, letting in Negan and his men, it could’ve been Eugene, or Sasha, or whoever else that might’ve had a lapse in judgement. 

Instead of arguing, everyone needs to be sticking together. More than ever, with the new additions to Alexandria. 

With Rick in the kitchen, Daryl decides that he has to answer him. It’s fucked up if he doesn’t. 

“She’s out, man. Negan needed to see you, and she wanted to help take the load off of you, alright?” He wants to say chill out, because yeah, Negan fucking sucks. But it’s not like he’s going to fuck up the community. He wants to live here, he wants to be apart of it, and, yeah -

Forcing his way in and shaking things up with the threat of violence is fucked up. Daryl’s pissed too, being made to act like a bitch just to keep things smooth, but ultimately, this is just the way things are now. It could be worse. Life is unfair now. Has been, for a long time. 

Rick sighs and closes his eyes, brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He’s going through it. His leader title is slipping through his fingers everyday, he’s fighting with you, he’s on the outs with Daryl, has a chip on his shoulder with just about everyone else. Daryl understands, he really does, but there’s nothing either one of them can fucking do about this Negan situation. 

“Perfect,” he says sarcastically, and Daryl almost rolls his eyes. “Just great. That’s,” but Daryl stops him right there. He listens to your nagging enough and has no desire to hear Rick act like a scorned wife. 

“I’ll go get her. Check on her. Try to relax, or some shit,” Daryl doesn’t know. But he leaves the house without another look at Rick. 

As annoying as Rick is, Daryl can’t be too hard on him. He gets it. Like right now, for instance. 

He knows that Rick isn’t worried that Negan is going to hurt you, no. He’ll pretend like that’s what he’s worried about, but Negan has been nothing but nice to you. Much nicer to you, than to anyone else in Alexandria, even his own men. Maybe it’s because he’s attracted to you, which Daryl knows from the way he looks at you, leers at you, touches your shoulder when he’s talking to you, or the small of your waist when he passes by you. 

Or maybe it’s because you let him into Alexandria without so much as a question. Whatever it is, you guys…hit it off. Daryl knows it’s stupid, that these fucking girlish emotions he’s feeling are the least of his problems, but he can’t help but feel a little…jealous that you get along with Negan so well. It’s upsetting too, for obvious reasons - but Daryl feels like your friendship, or whatever the hell you have going on with Negan, is personal.

You’re not scared of him, you don’t feel bad about what you did, letting him in here. If anything, you’re spinning it into a good thing. 

Told Rick the other day, in a screaming match that Daryl could hear even in his room with the door closed, that he should be thanking you, and Negan for that matter, because Negan does the dirty work to keep people in line and to keep the community safe, since Rick’s too nice, and then Rick said he knows he’s too nice, because look at what he lets you get away with, and then -

Well, Daryl left after that. Stayed on the porch though, just to make sure you were okay. Not that he thinks Rick would ever do anything, just. He’s cautious, okay?

Daryl finds you in the garage of one of the other houses, pool stick in hand while Negan takes a turn at the pool table. The garage door is wide open, lights on in an otherwise dark neighborhood. Daryl doesn’t know if he’s happy that you’re obviously not hiding anything, or if he’s pissed that you’re so outwardly confident about being friends with the worst man Daryl knows. It’s fucked up.

He doesn’t make his presence known, just watches off to the side, in a place you and Negan can’t see him. He hears you giggle, watches you take a fucking terrible shot on the table when it’s your turn, but Negan still praises you. “Good job, little lady. Gettin’ better,” he says, and you beam, and Daryl tries really fucking hard not to storm in there and beat Negan’s ass. 

He’s mad at you, too. He really is, not that he’d ever say it. Because he knows what’s going to happen after this. You’ll come home, avoid Rick, and even after spending hours with the enemy, you’ll still slip into Daryl’s bed. And he’ll let you. 

He’ll always let you. 

“Should be getting home now, don’t you think? Probably got your old man all worried,” Negan says, and Daryl can just hear the smirk in his voice. You shake your head, but put the stick down anyway, leaning it against the edge of the pool table.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you say, “And so is Daryl. You need to be nice to them, Negan. Or else I can’t,” you trail off, but Negan knows. He can control a community, can control hundreds of people with the threat of violence, but he can’t control the feelings of a woman like you.

Part of your appeal is this fire you have. Negan’s not going to risk losing what little camaraderie you have, because he likes you (Daryl really could kill him right now), and forcing you into whatever role he wants you in, making you lose that fire - well, that’d make you lose one of the most important parts about you that make you who you are.

At least, that’s what Daryl’s assuming.

Negan nods, but he doesn’t look happy about it. 

Truth be told, Daryl wonders where you got your balls from, having the confidence to talk to a man like Negan like this. It’d be kind of hot, your confidence, if it didn’t scare the shit out of Daryl.

“Need me to walk you back home?” Negan asks, and Daryl almost scoffs. Walk you home down the street? Really? You’ve got a gun on you and you’re a fucking great shot. Is Negan really the pinnacle of safety, when Daryl saw him kill someone with a clean bullet between the eyes the other day for trying to trespass through the gate at night?

But you shake your head. Politely say no thanks, and you start for home. 

Daryl follows a few minutes later. He’s good at staying hidden. He heads up to bed while you’re in the downstairs bathroom.

He leaves his bedroom door open for you.

────

Negan wants in. 

He’s never been the type to be jealous of another man. Really. He’s always been pretty hot, good with the ladies. And, sure - maybe there were times that he wished for more money, more power, more respect and free time before the world became this, but he’s got to admit that the fucking zombie apocalypse really changed his life for the better. 

Life is pretty good now. For him at least. He’s adapted well, and he’s built something pretty damn sturdy and beautiful, if he does say so himself. He’s hurt a lot of people, yeah - but he’s also saved a lot of people too. Given them a purpose. A place. Somewhere to call home. Because people need order, and sometimes they need violence to keep that order. 

So what? Negan uses a little force to help get society back on track, and suddenly he’s a bad guy because of it? Treated like the devil incarnate and shit, when he’s just trying to make the best of everything? Other people should take some fucking notes. Show some more appreciation.

In fact, he’s got one man in mind that should really be sending a thank you card his way, and that man is Rick Grimes. Negan Smith has never been jealous of another person, but when he saw Rick Grimes, and saw everything that fucker had, well. 

He decided that he was going to have what Rick had, whatever it took to get it.

Rick Grimes. Maybe it’s not envy that Negan feels for the man, but something else entirely.

Admiration, maybe? Although even that is hard to admit. Negan’s impressed by him, that’s for sure. All the ways Rick and his group have fucked up Negan’s people, all while living in a cheery, beautiful suburb. Rick has killed Negan’s people, while still wearing the title of good guy, and even worse - gracious leader. There should be no fucking such thing, but Rick doesn’t seem to understand that. 

Rick’s clever, resourceful. The guy took out Negan’s men and still gets to play the hero. King of a picket-fence suburb, worshipped like a saint while blood dries under his boots. 

Because Rick got lucky. Got close with his fucking day ones, or whatever they seem to be. Family, they call each other? Negan doesn’t need to be a good person to know that the people in this community are mostly good people. Loyal, save for a few bad seeds. And Rick just happened to be lucky enough to land himself in a pretty picture-perfect situation - by apocalypse standards, anyway.

Rick doesn’t know what it’s like to rule over bad men, and that’s pretty much all that Negan’s got. Because bad men get the job done, and that’s what Negan needs. That’s what Rick needs, although he’ll never believe that. He’s clever, and, okay - Negan would call him smart. But there’s something about Rick that just screams naive to Negan.

Rick’s too trusting to see when the community that he cares so much about is about to fucking go under. Doesn’t see, that Alexandria's fall won’t come from Negan. 

Truth is, a few of Rick’s own people came knocking. They found Negan. 

Spencer was one. How else would Negan and his men know where the gate was? Because, sure - they assumed a place like this existed, just like they knew about the other communities in the area, but it’s not like they had any actual idea where this place was. What they’d find inside of it, if they ever did find it. Or who.

It doesn’t matter though, because -

Well, see - Negan wants what Rick’s got, but he also wants Rick. Man’s a genius, although Negan would never tell him that. People like him. Most do anyway, save for that idiot Spencer and some other dumbasses that follow him around. Negan acts like Spencer is cool with him, but the truth is, Negan hates dumb people. 

Rick’s a good leader, and Spencer is a backstabber. That wouldn’t change, even if he found someone else to follow, and Negan only wants loyalty around him. People with a spine and a backbone. Which is probably why he appreciates Rick’s group so much, even if they stand in his way more often than not. 

Rick’s got fucking Alexandria, which Negan wants, but more than that - 

Negan wants you. 

Because what Rick’s got - Alexandria, the safety, the people - it’s all tied to you.

Spencer said you were about as ditzy as a doll, too soft to say no, too loved to ever face consequences. He’d laughed as he said it, how easily you’d probably let strangers in, how everyone forgives you no matter what you do. Then he got all flustered, in his drunken rant while Negan watched on with a fake smile, nosy and disgusted, and something slipped: Spencer said something about you and Rick...and Daryl.

Wow. Negan’s been dealing with prudish women that don’t really want to put out until he’s almost forcing, and at that point, it loses its fun. He’s got the women, but it doesn’t matter if you have a toy if the toy doesn't work, right? He’s fed up with them all, anyway. Wives, his ass. It’s too much work these days anyway, wondering who’s sneaking off with their first husband, who’s faking an illness so he doesn’t visit their room.

Negan’s had enough. 

Once he found out about you, what you had…going on with two men old enough to be your father, and then he saw you and heard your little giggle? That was it for him. That was all Negan needed to see to feel…refreshed. Excited again, about life and what was to come. 

There’s a saying, Negan thinks, although he can’t remember who said it, or what the exact words really were, but - it was something about needing inspiration to get on with it. To get on with life. 

Yeah, that was it. Inspiration. You’re all the inspiration Negan needs. 

You, and the fucking granite countertops in all the homes in Alexandria. Toasters. Coffee makers. Epsom bath salts on the edge of every single claw shaped tub in all of the homes. Don’t get him wrong, because Negan really does like the blood and guts and gore and filth of the little empire he’s built, but there’s something about a pink, princess girl like you and an air fryer that’s really energizing to his entire being. 

Negan likes his world of grit and gore - but there’s just something about you, barefoot in a pink tank top, pointing out the shape of a bunny in the clouds while the smell of death surrounds you, that makes Negan want more.

Man, Rick really lucked out. Negan will never understand why he spends most of his days complaining, when he’s got it so damn good. 

When Negan first heard about your thing with Rick and Daryl, he assumed it was a sex thing. Who wouldn’t? But as he got to know you, and man, did you warm up fast - but as Negan saw more of you and Rick and Daryl (which, Rick he gets, but Daryl?), he knew it was more than just sex.

Rick looks at you like you’re his last sip of water in a fucking desert. There’s a softness when he sees you, so quick to come over him that Negan thinks it must scare the man himself. ‘S why Rick puts on this dramatic, in charge demeanor whenever you’re concerned, because he’s trying to hide how soft you really make him. 

That softness in his eyes? That’s fear. Fear of how much he feels for you, and Negan can respect that. Nothing scarier for a man as tough as nails than to fall in love with a woman, because love makes people weak. Negan understands.

If he so much as breathes next to you, Rick looks like he’s going to self combust. Kill Negan, or, shit - sometimes it looks like he might off himself. Especially since you’ve gotten so friendly since Negan’s been here. So helpful, so thankful that Negan’s taking some of the load of leadership off of Rick. 

It’s not exactly as black and white as that, and Negan knows he’s not exactly helping Rick with anything, but there is some truth in what you’re saying, so he lets you believe that. Spread that around Alexandria, because Spencer was right -

Everyone does like you. Negan’s not heard one bad word rise up against you. Seems like you might be just as lucky as Rick. 

Now Daryl -

Negan doesn’t know what to say about Daryl. He’s cool, in a way. Frightens the hell out of Negan, with how quiet he is, but he’s tough and moral and, shit. Everyone seems to like him too, if not be a little scared of him as well.

It’s weird, because Daryl and Rick don’t really seem like friends. And a girl like you, all pink and cutesy and outgoing - it makes no sense that you’d be with someone like Daryl. Even before all of this, he just doesn’t seem like the kind of guy someone would expect to shack up with someone like you, who’s all sunshine and sugar cookies, but maybe that’s why it works. 

You’re sweet. He’s loyal. Whatever the fuck it is, it works, and that pisses Negan off. Just a little. Makes him bark mean at Daryl a little extra than the others, make things harder for him whenever he can, just because he can. 

Negan knows enough about you now, to know that you’re sweet as pie. You bake treats and shove them in Daryl’s face until he tries them, you ask for stories at night that both Rick and Daryl will always give in to (which Negan finds hilarious and weirdly sweet), and you’re helpful as can be. Although, he does suppose maybe that’s why you and Daryl make sense - he’s helpful too. Even when he grits his teeth and puts his head down, he’ll still do what he’s told to do. 

Negan knows a lot about you and the things you get up to with your old men, because you tell him. You’re so friendly, so eager to chat and talk and gossip, to take some of the load of the community jobs so Rick can be more chill, your words, that you’ve done anything Negan has asked of you and more. 

You’re sort of like his little sidekick, in a weird way. His little friend. So you talk his ear off and Negan is reminded of the man he used to be before all of this. It’s nice, in doses. 

You talk to Negan like he’s still human. That’s rare. You gossip, laugh, help him with supply counts - always eager to please. Like a sidekick. A weird, cheerful, sticky little sidekick.

Today, most of the community is inside. It’s hot out, warmer than usual, but Negan knows it’s more than that. People are scared. Stressed out, probably from a weapon count that Negan had Simon lead the day prior.

Everyone’s tucked up tight, ready for another day of suburban living, and it’s kind of pathetic if Negan thinks about it too long, but he won’t - because he likes it here, and he wants it to work out. Best not to get too in his head and ruin his time in Alexandria before it’s hardly even begun.

He’s been looking for Rick all day, and on his way while he’s looking for him, he runs into you on the porch of the home you share with Rick and Daryl, sucking on a popsicle in a way that’s so distracting, Negan feels his knees get a little wobbly. What kind of woman are you? He wonders, watching your pink tongue lick up the side of the sugary ice treat. Where the fuck did you come from?

And now that he thinks about it - where the hell did you find a popsicle?

More than that though, Negan wonders how you stayed alive this long. Or, did wonder, because when you were helping his men count the canned goods one day while he stood watch, you told him all about your background. Your father. Rick and Daryl, and everything they’ve taught you. 

It sort of sounds like they were both friends with your father, which is actually pretty fucked up. Wickedly hot too, and Negan has to say that he didn’t know Rick had it in him to be so filthy. Didn’t know Daryl liked women either, but. Maybe there’s a lot he doesn’t know about Rick and Daryl.

You wave at him from the porch, legs on display in a pair of tiny shorts. You look like you’re glowing.

“Hi, Negan,” you said cheerfully, standing up from your spot. Most people in Alexandria want to run from him, but you’re just smiling, lips all sticky and purple from the popsicle, and Negan wonders what it’d be like to suck the taste of it right off your tongue and teeth. 

“Lookin’ for your old man. You seen Rick?” He asks, but you just shake your head. You don’t look too worried about Rick’s whereabouts, and Negan wonders if that means there’s been trouble in paradise. In any case, you’re not scared of not giving him what he wants. You don’t seem nervous at all, and for that, Negan knows you’re a smart girl.

Because he sees the dirty looks. The tight grips people have on their guns (before he took most of them, that is) as he passes by. Nobody wants him here, even the ones that can admit the new ‘security system’ he set in place is helpful, and that the food and supplies he’s bringing into the community is triple what Rick and his group were capable of before.

Sure, there’s more violence, but there needed to be, with the way it is out there in the world. And if anything, people should be thanking Negan for bringing the community together. 

To hate on one mutual enemy: him. 

But you’re the only one who doesn’t seem to hate him. You’re not afraid of him, and Negan likes your curiosity. You talk to him, treat him like any new member of Alexandria would be treated. You treat him like there’s still a human behind this devil persona he wears, and he likes that. Even if it is a waste of your time. 

You’re smart, because you play the game well. Going with the flow, keeping him happy. Hell, for all Negan knows, you might not even like him that much. You might just be -

Oh, who is he kidding? He sees you tugging down the front of your tank top to reveal more cleavage as you walk down the porch steps to see him. The twinkle in your eyes, the way you place a hand on his arm when there’s no reason for you to be touching him at all. Your hand is a little sticky from your treat, but Negan doesn’t mind.

He should be breaking your mailbox down with Lucille, should be bringing an entourage of men behind him to shake some fear into you so he can find out exactly where Rick is. 

Instead, he brushes a piece of hair away from your face, watching your now purple tongue lick over your plump bottom lip. Negan feels like he can’t breathe.

“Maybe Daddy’s on a run or something,” you say, and then you freeze.

Your entire face heats up, and Negan can see it clear as day. You step away from him, and even though he knows that you call Rick by that name, even though everyone knows, you still act like you showed up to work naked or something, quickly looking down, tossing the popsicle stick with the melting ice onto the lawn in front of your home. 

Negan would kill someone else for that, destroying property so carelessly - but he finds your reaction pretty sweet. He doesn’t comment on it though, because Daryl comes out to the porch and looks murderous when he sees who you’re with -

And then he quite literally snaps his fingers and calls your name and you go to him quickly, and then Negan yells at Daryl that Rick needs to ask and let him know when he’s going to be leaving Alexandria, and Daryl just nods, slams the door. 

So you’re obedient too. Negan files that thought away for later. 

He’s got some ideas about how he’d put your obedience to good use. 

…

Later that night, Negan finds Rick. 

Finds all of you, actually. 

Drinking together, playing cards. Negan shows up to the home you share with both of your men again, and catches a glimpse of you on Daryl’s lap playing go fish while he has poker chips out.

Rick’s there, and Abraham and Morgan, and a few other no names that Negan really can’t be bothered to learn. Everyone else, beyond the fear on their face that they’re trying to hide since he showed up, looks frustrated - but Daryl just looks fond. He protects you, that man. Protects Rick too. Negan can admire that. 

Daryl hovers around you like you’re a tripwire and he’s just waiting for someone else to step on it. But maybe he’s not wrong about that. 

You could trip up someone else, with that laugh of yours. With your smile. With your body and your face and your smell, and how the fuck did you find perfume in this kind of world? 

Negan like where your head is. Looking for normalcy. Smart girl. 

Negan’s always been looking for the same thing. Genius of you actually, to get the two men with the most pull in Alexandria wrapped around your finger. Or maybe you’re just lucky, like Rick. Maybe everything good just falls into your lap.

Negan can believe that. If luck like that exists, he thinks it’d make sense if it all happened for someone like you.

Everyone is sitting around the dining room table, and there are still plenty of empty chairs - but you’re still sitting on Daryl’s lap, tiny skirt riding up over your thighs, his arms caging you in, one elbow on the table, holding his hand of playing cards. Rick sits beside him with his chair pushed so close, his knee touches Daryl’s, which in turn, means he’s touching you. 

Getting cozy.

While it might be hot, sharing the women they love - and don’t get Negan wrong, this whole thing does make him insanely turned on, but. It’s just weird, how both of these fuckin’ nutjobs don’t seems to mind. There’s no jealousy, no tension. Like they’ve made peace with sharing you. Like they know exactly where they stand in this fucked up little triangle.

They don’t care that you openly flirt with the enemy. They don’t care that you fight with them all day but still want to be a little princess, still want them to baby you, to take care of you, even when you stand your ground about making your own decisions.

They treat you with something beyond that of a romantic partner, and it makes something in Negan go - oh. 

It’s almost parental, and Negan sees it first hand when he storms up to the table demanding to know where Rick was earlier. He doesn’t really care, not at all. 

But this is a good way to get close to you. To see you, without aggressively having to summon you, the way he does with his wives. 

The rest of the table is all on guard, and Rick gets up and walks to the other room to save you from the confrontation. Hand squeezing your shoulder on his way out, and a shared look with Daryl that Negan, and everyone else with a brain, can clearly read as take care of her. 

You do say hi to Negan though, as always. He winks at you, and you tell him about something you cooked that’s still in the kitchen. You should try one!, you say, but Daryl scolds you with a, Fuck’s wrong with you?, and then Negan hears your little humph after, the faint sound of cards being thrown down on the table. “Don’t talk to me like that, Daryl,” and Negan just smiles while he listens to you defend yourself in the other room, all while he scolds Rick like a punished fucking schoolboy. 

It’s chaotic, and quite honestly - a little stressful…in a fun way. And Negan, well -

He wants to crawl into this mess. Wedge himself in besides you, feel your weight tip over onto him for once. Wants to know if your laugh sounds the same way with his hand on your thigh, if your stories would still be interesting if he knew what your lips felt like against his, if your smile would still be as sweet with his cock buried deep inside of you. 

If you’d still be friendly to him, if you knew the fucked up things he thinks about doing to you when he’s in his bed late at night.

You’re fucking magnetic. Not just beautiful, but also dangerous, in that ultra feminine way of yours. Clever. You know the effect you have on men, or maybe you don’t, which is even more appealing - either way, Negan is hooked.

You’ve got Rick and Daryl wrapped around your finger and you still manage to walk around like you don't even notice the chokehold you’ve got on half the men in this place.

On his way out, Negan hears you asking Abraham about the rules of poker, and when Rick gets back to the dining room he pours something strong into a cup and down his throat at the little bar off to the side, and Daryl looks down. You turn to Negan as he goes, cutting Abraham off, before getting off of Daryl’s lap completely. 

Rick looks like he’s about to pass out as you walk towards Negan, and Daryl just asks for whatever Rick is having. When you fist bump one of Negan’s men that you’re sort of friendly with, familiar face and all, Negan swears he hears Rick choke.

“Negan,” you say, voice a little shy. Goddamn, he could just eat you up. “Don't forget what you promised me tomorrow,” your voice is a little low, as to not let Rick and Daryl hear. 

Negan pretends like he doesn’t know what you’re about to say, but he does. He’s been dangling it, like a carrot on a string for a bunny or something, contingent on your good behavior.

He makes you say it out loud. Wants Rick and Daryl to hear. Maybe he’s being a little mean, but, hey - you don’t seem to notice. “The clothes you have, at the Sanctuary? You know I want to visit, see the stuff,” you start to say it nervously, until you’re interrupted by Rick. 

“Like hell you’re going there. Get up to bed,” he says, your name booming from his mouth. “Now.”

Negan is halfway about to defend your honor. Tell Ricky that you can do what you want, speak for yourself, and all that feminist bullshit that went away the minute women had to choose between staying in the kitchen or killing off walkers like men. Where does Rick get off telling a woman what to do?

Negan’s got a whole speech planned to piss Rick off, but he’s so transfixed on the way you obey, even with a pout as you stomp up the stairs.

All Negan can do is leave, and he lays in his own bed in Alexandria that night, fucks his fist with the thought of you in mind. Yeah, he thinks, seeing stars when he cums, pictures what you’d look like taking orders from him. Sexual orders. What you’d look like, getting fucked in front of your Daddies.

What you’d look like being his.

With his cum sticky on his hand, he imagines that your sticky hand from earlier was because of his cum instead of that popsicle. Imagines that the popsicle was his cock.

Or maybe Daryl’s. Or Rick’s. He thinks he’d even be down to watch.

Yeah, he thinks, cleaning off his hand. He wants in. Whatever that looks like.

────

Rick hates Negan. 

He thought he knew hatred - felt it enough times in his life to be familiar with the emotion. The acid in his stomach, the bad taste in his mouth whenever he was around someone he loathed. Truth be told, Rick hasn’t hated too many people in his life. Just isn’t that kind of guy. 

But this Negan - fuck. Rick wants to see him suffer. Wants to see him hurt, wants to see him in a crazy amount of pain, but most of all - 

Rick wants him dead.

Every single day, all Rick can think about is killing Negan. It's like an obsession, the first thing in his head when he wakes up in the morning and the last thing he thinks about when he goes to bed. You used to be the one occupying his thoughts during these times, and don’t get him wrong - you still mostly do. It’s just -

Well, Rick’s still pretty fucking pissed at you.

It’s strange, because even though he knows that he has a right to be mad, it’s just not a comfortable feeling to have in regards to you. You’ve always been everything that’s good to Rick - his sweet, pretty, soft, sensitive little girlfriend. Pretty well behaved most of the time too, but Rick never expected that you’d brat this hard and let this kind of monster into the front yards of everyone you care about. 

It’s getting bad, though. Rick knows a change has to happen. Because even though he’s mad at you, even though you’re mad at him (which doesn’t really make sense, but you’re young, and young people think and do all kinds of dumb shit if his memory serves him correctly) - you’re still letting him fuck you. 

Sneak out of Daryl’s bed early in the morning, crawl into Rick’s, your body still warm from being in Daryl’s arms all night. You always smell like him too, and that should be weird, should even be hot, if looked at through a different lens. But Rick actually finds it comforting, knowing that Daryl’s still giving you what you need. That no matter what happens, you’d be taken care of. 

But nothing will ever happen to the relationship you have with Rick. He might be mad, he might be scared - but he loves you so much, and he would do anything to be with you. Would lay his life on the line, again and again for you, would take whatever you dish out and more just to keep you happy. 

It is a challenge though. Man, is it a challenge. 

So Rick fucks you on those mornings, leaves bite marks and hickeys all over your shoulders and chest, gives it to you hard and deep, and it’s beautiful, really. Beautiful, that you still suck his dick even when you’re mad at him, even though you try to tease him as some sort of punishment (for what?) until he grabs hold of your hair and holds you in place. He’s a lucky man, he knows, it’s just -

Well, it’s just that he’s been thinking of killing Negan, even when he’s balls deep inside of one of your tight little holes. 

He orgasms these days, not to your pretty face or bouncy tits - he does notice them, of course he does, but it’s the thought of shoving a gun into Negan’s mouth and blowing his brains out that pops into his head when he cums. 

Fuck, Rick’s really got to find a way out of this mess.

A fantasy is a fantasy, sexual or violent, Rick knows. Still makes him feel weird though, and makes him hate Negan more - now he can’t even fuck his girl without the other man somehow tainting it? Rick wants him dead so fucking bad, and one of these days, he’s going to do it. 

That fantasy keeps him hanging on.

But it’s just a fantasy, because Negan is very much alive. Rick can actually hear him outside right now, laughing loudly at something, and the fact that he’s even able to find an ounce of joy makes Rick want to skin him alive. 

Christ, Negan brings out the worst in him. 

Coming to the gate, acting all friendly, probably had been watching the schedule rotation for weeks, from the shadows. Knew you seemed like the most likely, out of grown men and women with stoic expressions, to let him and his fucking army in. Rick wonders what you were doing that made him sure you’d be the perfect target. Twirling your hair? Picking your cuticles? Lacing a ribbon through your shoes? 

Rick loves you, god he does, but putting you in charge of a gate watching shift is the worst mistake he’s ever made. He’s always just tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. Your father was so fucking hard on you, never let you really do anything, and Rick thought that was fucked up…just because you seemed so upset by it. 

But maybe he was right. About some things. Maybe your father knew you better than Rick ever could, although in a different way, and maybe he should’ve approached you - 

No, he can’t think of that right now. Because all he can hear is the sound of laughing in his own home, and he knows it’s not fucking Daryl, because Daryl doesn’t laugh like that and he’s not even in Alexandria right now. It’s obviously Negan, because you like Negan, and you believe that shit he spews about community, and coming together, and whatever else he uses as an excuse to try to hold a power play over Rick’s head. 

As if Rick doesn’t remember the massacre of different camps that Negan and his crew left to warn Alexandria that they were coming.

But you don’t know that. Because Rick is scared to tell you that there were threats that he didn’t warn you about, problems that he didn’t include you on, things about this community that you weren’t allowed to know. Should he grow a pair, and admit to that? Of course he should, but he knows how you are. You’d be pissed for a year if you found out that he kept anything from you.

Yeah, you like Negan, and simply put, Rick is extremely pissed off about it. 

All Negan’s done is try to take over the community, to turn a good thing bad and make it his, and the empathy and sweetness you have that made Rick fall in love with you is being wasted on the fucking prick, and it makes Rick so goddamn mad he could scream and -

“Rick,” you call, the sound of your footsteps in the entryway of the house. These days, Rick is trained to listen to steps, so he waits for the next set behind you. Sure enough, they come, louder than yours, followed by the sound of the front door closing.

Negan. 

Fucking -

“Yeah?” Rick replies, showing himself at the top of the stairs. It’s been a long day, a long few years, and if Negan wasn’t here then Rick would have you all to himself. Daryl’s gone for the night, which isn’t as scary a thing as it was back before Negan arrived - the biggest danger is now in the same fucking community as you all, and Daryl can handle himself around walkers just fine, especially if he’s with Aaron.

Daryl made Rick promise though, to stay calm and that he’d take care of you. Even pat Rick on the back before he left, told him, “Could be a good thing, man. Don’t waste the time,” and it was vague but Rick knows what Daryl’s referring to. Could be a good thing, to get some time alone to try to improve the relationship he has with you. 

All the bickering, all the fighting. The sex is still nice, but Rick wants more than that. Something gentle maybe, just the feeling of your smaller hand in his, your warm body in his arms at night, clothes still on. Rick loves you, and he’s trying not to be too butthurt that you’re calling him by his first name instead of that special word you always use for him, and now Daryl.

He just misses you, is all. Is sick of having to be the bad guy all the time. 

“Just wondering if you’re here. I’ve been,” you start telling him what you did today, what your role was in the community, the people you saw, all the shit that Rick normally loves to hear about, but right now he doesn’t give a fuck. Can’t let himself care. He hates to brush you off, hates to be mad at you, but all he can reply with when he reaches the bottom of the stairs and stands in front of you is:

“With Negan. Yeah. Figured.” 

Negan grins. The kind of smile that makes Rick want to gut him on the spot. He’s got perfect teeth, too white for the fucking apocalypse, and it’s fucking creepy. Rick hates the guy. Hates him so fucking much that he’s sure he’s turning red just being in the same room as him, and he wants to turn away and run somewhere away from you and this fucking toolbag, but Negan places a hand on your shoulder and you bite your lip, and now all Rick wants to do is cut the other man’s hand off. 

“Got yourself a great girl here,” Negan says, but it’s not nice or complimentary or charming - and it’s not intended to be.

No, Rick can hear it in his voice. He’s letting Rick know that he knows that you’re a great girl. Like he finally caught on. As if he hasn’t been eye fucking you since the moment he arrived at the gates of Alexandria. As if - 

God, Rick really is about to go crazy. He can’t help himself - he reaches for Negan’s hand and smacks it off your shoulder before he realizes that there might be consequences, because your new little friend? 

Right, he thinks he owns Rick. Thinks he owns everything in Alexandria too, including the others. Including you. Rick doesn’t know how you don’t see that, how you don’t see that Negan is using you just like everyone else to turn this place into a kingdom he can rule. 

It’s beyond frustrating. 

It’s like you all hold your breath after Rick slaps Negan’s hand away. You freeze, and Rick directs his anger towards the other man. Meets his eye, is so upset that the man is in his home, that he spent the day with you while he had Rick running bitch boy tasks for him, and he’s also worried that Negan still plans to make good on what he promised you. That he’d take you to the Sanctuary so you could see all the stuff he has. Rick doesn’t care how mean you think he is -

He’s not going to fucking let you go. Daryl agrees. You just don’t get it, and Rick wishes that you’d stop trying to be positive and optimistic and good for the sake of being cute, or whatever you’re worried about - because he needs you to use your head. He needs you to listen to him and Daryl, but more than that he - 

“I’ll let that slide, Rick,” Negan says, like he’s a saint. Like he just gave his last piece of bread to someone starving, like he just saved a lamb from slaughter, like he just did something kind, sparing Rick some violence just because he doesn’t want anyone else touching his girl. 

You swallow hard, and Rick knows that he looks like a wild animal about to pounce. He stays silent, so silent, and as Negan backs away to leave, he touches your shoulder again and asks if you’re going to be okay. That just makes Rick want to scream - but he can’t, because he can’t be a fucking man around Negan without worrying that someone will die because of him, and -

Finally, you do something right. You tell Negan goodnight, walk with him to the door, but you lower your voice and tell him something before he leaves. Rick’s seeing red by the time Negan’s out the door.

Rick should be happy that he’s leaving. He should be happy, that he’s finally got you alone, the house to yourselves, so that tonight can be a night about getting close again, working through whatever it is that’s holding him back from being the man you need him to be. Rick’s willing to put what he knows is right, aside. Just so things can be good with you again. 

But he can’t help himself. He’s being worked like a dog, like a fucking errand boy, by Negan and his men. The people of Alexandria are breathing down his neck, and when he gets home, things still aren’t good with you. They’re just -

“What’d you tell him? Just now,” he says your name, calm but accusatory. “I swear to fuck, if I find out you’re planning to go to the Sanctuary, I’m,” and now it’s your turn to cut him off. 

You sigh, all dramatic, and this time Rick doesn’t find it cute. “I’m not going anywhere, Rick, I’m just helping.” You say that, as if it’s a good enough excuse. You say that, as if one of Negan’s men can’t be around to help him count cans, or whatever the fuck he has you do. 

Rick doesn’t like this. He knows this Daddy game you play is just for fun, but he really does feel like a concerned father right now. Worried, about where your head is. Worried, about what your plans are. Whenever you’re around Negan, Rick worries that he doesn’t even really know you at all, and that scares the shit out of him. 

Before he can reply, you start walking up the stairs, and Rick follows you. He doesn’t want to be this controlling, annoying, anger problem boyfriend that he’s always been so scared of people thinking he is, just because of the age difference. And everyone knows, about you and him and Daryl, and he’s pretty sure that everyone knows what the three of you really get up to. And, yeah, it’s not all about what other people think, but part of this is that Rick is worried about who he’s turning into himself. 

When you get to his room, he watches you take off your clothes and put on your pajamas like he’s not even here, and he looks over your body at all the bruises he’s left from how rough he’s been with you lately, the hickeys that you had to cover today, when it was so hot, and you still wore a long sleeved shirt and a funky looking scarf that Eugene lent you. Rick’s chest restricts at that, thinking about the history you share. Thinking about the closeness you’ve reached, thinking about the bond you have.

How important you are to each other.

He feels a little bad, marking you up like that - but it’s the only way he has to get some of his anger out towards you. Because you don’t want to talk, but you do want to fuck, and Rick tries not to take that personally, since you’re always talking to Daryl.

He takes a step closer to you. Takes a deep breath to let out some of his stress, before he sits down on the edge of his unmade bed and watches you slip on a pair of sleep shorts. Even mad, or whatever the fuck is wrong with him, it’s still hard to act normal when he’s this close to you. Especially when the little triangle of your panties, the part right between your thighs, is right in front of his face. 

There’s a little rose under the lace trim of the panties, for fuck’s sake. Where the hell did you find these?

He puts his hands on your hips, and you let out a sigh and place your warm palms on his shoulders. You look down at him, before moving a hand and fucking up his hair. Rick’s not in the mood to smile, but he offers you a halfass little quirk of the corner of his mouth, and that’s all it takes for you to break the ice. 

You’ve always been good at that. Always been good at reading his mind too, apparently. 

”You think that Negan wants to fuck me," you say, and Rick's heard you say plenty of filthy things before, but the words ‘fuck' and ‘Negan' without any word about him dying in the same sentence is really tripping Rick out. He swallows hard, but waits for you to finish, enjoys the feeling of your socked foot pressing up against his shoe with the way you're standing.

“I know I messed up, Daddy,” you say timidly, and when you say that name, it’s hard for Rick to hold anything against you. He just sees you as the girl who needed him after your father passed, and he identifies so strongly with being the one you need, that sometimes he forgets that he’s allowed to be somebody else around you. 

Forgets, that you’re allowed to be different too. 

“I shouldn’t have let Negan inside Alexandria. I admit it, okay? But I just felt so bad, and you and Daryl were so mad, and everyone’s upset and I just have to look at the bright side, okay? Negan’s really not so bad,” you’re so wrong about that but Rick doesn’t interrupt you, “and he wants to be here, and I follow him around and offer to help because I know he likes me, and I know he wants this place to stay around and,” Rick can hardly understand a word you’re saying, because it all comes out so fast, and then it looks like you’re about to cry, and Rick can’t have that. 

He’s still reeling, at the fact that you admitted that what you did was wrong. Rick can’t wait to tell Daryl this, and what’s more - 

He’s proud of you. 

Sure, you’re doing things a little backward, but in your own way, he supposes - you really are trying to help. 

Rick pulls you down onto his lap. You sit on his thigh, legs bare, the sleep shirt you’re wearing so thin that Rick can see your breasts, nipples hard against the fabric because of the window being open and how cold it gets at night these days. The only upside to having Negan and his men in Alexandria, is that someone is always watching the gate. It gives Rick a minute to breathe, to enjoy and appreciate his pretty little girlfriend on his lap, asking for forgiveness in her own way. 

Covered in his hickeys, a shirt that he’s sure is his best friend’s. You look so small all of a sudden, and Rick feels immense regret that he’s been so mean, when you were only doing what you could to help. God, he loves you. 

“Sweetheart,” he starts, maneuvering you both so you’re laying down on the bed. He gets on his side, halfway hovering over you, bends his elbow and rests his head on his palm. He looks down at you, so lovely, waiting for what he’s going to say like it’s about to be a sermon. That’s just you though. You’re a really, really good girl. 

When you want to be. 

Rick wanted soft, so he puts a hand up your shirt, feels the softness of your skin and cups your breast, rubs his thumb over your nipple. Your tits fit perfectly in his hand, and in his more romantic moments, Rick thinks that means you were meant for him. His dick chubs up at the thought, and he presses his bulge into your hip. 

“There’s nothing we can do now, you’re right. ’m proud of you, for admitting that you didn’t make the best decision,” he praises you, because he knows you like that, and then you arch your back up and interrupt him in a little voice to say, Thank you, Daddy. His dick twitches. Rick continues, “But now, I need you to listen to me. Daryl too. You understand? Negan - he’s a bad man,” but you literally hold a hand up and push a finger against his lips to silence him. 

Fucking brat.

Rick’s in shock at the bold move. You pout, then grab hold of his wrist from the hand that’s under your shirt, and you bring his hand down to your pussy. He gets the hint, and you’re not very subtle, sweet girl. 

“No more about Negan. Just me and you. ‘ve missed you so much.” You know just what to say, and when Rick fingers you to orgasm, when you come apart on his fingers and then cum on his tongue - he’s so aware of how much you belong to him. His girl. His to protect and his to rule over, because that’s what you want, and more than that, that’s what you need. 

Rick can make those rules. He thinks about that, when he slips his dick inside of you, raw because he can. Raw, because he wants to fill you up and knock you up, thinks that maybe if you were pregnant, that Negan would leave you the fuck alone. It’s just a wish, in the back of his mind. But even so - 

Before he slipped his cock inside of you, one of your pretty legs hiked over his shoulder to spread you open for him, cunt slick and spread and just for him, he can’t help but say it. Because you’re most likely to listen when he’s got his cock out and a hand pressing on your throat, so he tries it. 

“Promise me,” he says, like a please. “You’re not going to the Sanctuary with Negan. Tell me you're not going to go. That you're going to be good. That you're gunna listen.” 

You whine, try to push your hips up. But Rick’s not relenting. Runs his cock over your clit and slippery slit, until you finally say it. It sounds like you let out a sob. 

“Ugh, fine. No Sanctuary. ‘M not gonna go, Daddy. I’m gonna listen to you.”

And that’s that. Rick’s got you back on your leash with him holding the end of it, just the way he likes it.

He smiles, sinking his dick inside of you.

You never break a promise. 

────

You’re starting to think that you’re a terrible person. 

Which sucks, because for most of your life, you’ve tried your best to be good. 

Sure, you’ve always had a little…spunk, as your parents used to say. You never tried to be difficult, but you've been told by many of the people in your life that you're stubborn. You know that, but honestly, you’ve always thought that a little hard headedness was good in a woman, you know?

You’ve been known, back in old days, to cut a guy that you were dating off if he texted you with the wrong emoji. You would purposely not fold your laundry when your mother took it all out of the dryer when you told her not to, to prove a point. If your dad asked you to do something, well - now you wouldn’t do it, even if you really wanted to. Which you know is annoying, but you literally can’t help it. 

You don’t know how to stay silent. If you have something to say, you have to say it, like an impulse or something, especially if it’s about the way you’re being treated. For your entire life,  everyone has always gotten the wrong impression of you, simply because of your looks. 

You’re pretty. You’re feminine. You like makeup and you like to smell good, you like to dress up, you like to whine and bat your eyelashes and have other people do things for you. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t do things yourself. It doesn’t mean you don’t want to. And pink eyeshadow and lipstick that matches does not mean that you want to stay silent and submissive in every single aspect of your life. 

Women can have layers. It’s like people always forget that. 

You’ve never really thought about your behavior beyond that of an eye roll. You have a strong personality. So what? You’ve always been vocal about your wants and needs, probably why you ended up dating two men instead of just one. You’re comfortable speaking up. 

If anything, it’s served you well in this violent new world. And you’re still kind, still sweet, because you really do want to be a good person. 

Besides, Rick and Daryl don’t mind it. 

Or, they didn’t mind it, but lately it sort of seems like…they do. 

Rick doesn’t pull you in and kiss you silly when you back talk anymore, and Daryl doesn’t look too fond when you roll your eyes at him.

You know you fucked up by letting Negan and his men in Alexandria, but you can’t go back in time. It wasn’t a rebellious act either, you weren’t trying to be a brat, and you weren’t doing anything on purpose to make Rick mad. You thought you were doing the right thing, or maybe you weren’t thinking at all, but -

You just wish Rick and Daryl would go back to being charmed by you, but maybe that starts with you and your attitude. Which is so…ugh. 

Because beyond your tough (but cute!) exterior, you really do worry about one of them leaving you. You worry about it almost constantly, that maybe they finally had enough of your outbursts and your attitude. That maybe they finally had enough of sharing you, that every time they speak in hushed voices to one another, that something is your fault, and now everything is going to go to shit. 

These thoughts literally keep you up at night. You’re sensitive, even if you try to hide it. Even if you’re more stubborn and vocal than any other woman you know. 

When Rick turns his back to you in his sleep, when Daryl doesn’t kiss your nose after you brush your teeth together - you’re in fear the rest of the day, that maybe it might really be the day they finally end things with you. It’s anxiety, probably because you’ve lost so many people since walkers started fucking everything up. 

You’ve been going over what your father said, back when he was still alive - once he found out you liked Rick and Daryl. Saw you watching them. Leave them alone, he said, with a shake of his head that told you he thought you were too immature for them. That they’d never look at you like that, like you were fucked up for even thinking that about men that much older than you. 

Like Rick and Daryl were perfect angels for looking right back. Yeah, right.

You’ve been missing your dad a lot, even if he was an asshole most days. You miss him, you think about him all the time, and you’re pretty sure Rick and Daryl are starting to hate you. 

Your internal monologue is awful, even when you force a smile, because - 

Well, on top of everything else,  you’re really starting to think you’re a terrible person because you think you’re catching feelings for Negan. 

God. Even saying that silently to yourself makes you want to cry about how stupid you are. Maybe your mom was right, with what she used to say back when you were in college. Any man looks at you and gives you some attention, and you’re already falling in love.

She’s not totally wrong. But Negan is not just any guy. He’s powerful. He’s fucking sexy. He’s strong, he’s smart. Every single thing that attracted you to Rick and Daryl is what’s attracting you to Negan, but this one just feels out of your reach. 

Which sort of makes you want it more. Because you see the way Negan looks at you. Touches you. Talks to you, gives you special treatment. When you’re feeling risky, you test it out, miscount cans or pull out a gun you hid from him during weapon count. Grab Lucille and pretend to play with her, do anything you can think of so he can scare you, so you can lose the feelings you have for him - 

But every time, he only reminds you of the special treatment you get from him. 

It’s horrible. Well, it’s sort of nice sometimes, but. Ugh. You don’t fucking know what to do.

Right now, you just came out of the shower. Used Rick’s bar soap, instead of your usual body wash to ration it since it’s not like there’s any Bath and Body Works open these days - but also because you’re hoping that the more you think about and drench yourself in Rick Rick Rick (and Daryl), that Negan will be farther from your mind. 

It’s not working. 

You come out of the bathroom naked, and Rick’s on his bed. You like his shower the best because you like to invade his space so he doesn't forget about you, stupid as that is. In a lot of ways, you’re sort of glad, deep down, that you let Negan in. Rick can never forget about you now, can he? You’ve traumatized him. 

Negan is still on your mind, even when you dig in a drawer for a pair of panties. He went back to the Sanctuary, and you wonder if he’s spending the night with one of his wives. You should’ve went with him, but you can’t say you blame Rick and Daryl for not wanting you to go. You’re a bad person for even wanting to go. You have problems, because you’re about to crawl into bed with your boyfriends, and you’re jealous of Negan fucking around with one of his wives. 

More in common with him than you thought, though. Both of you have multiple lovers. You blush at the thought. 

Rick’s staring at you, propped up against the pillows just watching, as he does. That’s how he unwinds, still in his clothes, always halfway to sleep whenever he actually sits down and lets his body rest. He’s so weird, and you love him so much. 

You’re looking for a shirt in his drawer to wear to sleep, but you can't find anything good. You’re about to go to Daryl’s room to ask for one, but he comes to Rick’s room before you have the chance. You smile a little, pretend like you’re not distracting the both of them with your naked body. 

Freshly shaved too. You know what you’re doing. 

“There are you are,” you say, as if this wasn’t the plan you requested earlier, that the both of them sleep with you tonight. Sometimes you feel silly, thinking that either of them might leave you. You fucked up pretty bad, and you make it worse almost every day - but they still do whatever they can to make you happy. That’s love. 

“I was just looking for you. Can I have one of your shirts, Daryl?" You ask, crossing your arms over your tits because you can tell he’s distracted. “Please?”

Daryl nods, and starts to go to retrieve one, but before he makes it out of the door you hear Rick scoff. “Daryl’s got extra shirts? You can wear one of mine. What am I, chopped liver?” He teases, in that tone of his that’s so serious, you’d think he wasn’t playing around if you didn’t know him as well as you do. It makes you feel good though, that Rick is being playful. 

Daryl leaves the room, but as he walks out he calls, “Hey, chopped liver ain’t so bad,” and you wrinkle your nose while Rick smiles at you. Yeah, Daryl would eat that. 

When Daryl comes back you grab the shirt from him and sit expectantly on the edge of the bed, looking at Daryl until he gets the hint. You want him to put your shirt on, and he does so without you having to say a word. You put your hands up, and he pulls it over your head, takes your hair out from under the collar so you don’t get itchy, then leans down to kiss your forehead. 

You feel warm, and you grab his hand before he tries to walk off. Rick pokes you in the back. 

“Spoiled rotten,” he remarks, but it’s not really teasing, and it’s not really complaining. It actually sort of sounds like he’s proud, and that makes you preen. You’re pretty sure you see Daryl blush too, and then you turn around to face Rick. 

His eyes are drawn to how fucking huge Daryl’s shirt is on your body. Just a minute in your presence, and Rick worries he’s about to pop a stiffy. 

Dayrl has to feel the same way. It is his own shirt. 

“Just feel weird today,” you admit, refusing to explain why. Daryl moves to leave the room again but you quickly tighten your grip on his hand, look up at him and pout. 

“‘M just gonna shower, since ‘m sharin’ a bed with you and your dirty old man here,” he says, and you hear Rick chuckle but you still refuse to let Daryl leave. You’re being annoying, you know that, but Daryl is your safe place. You don’t care if you’re bothering him, and honestly, you doubt he cares much either. 

“No,” you say simply, scooting closer to Rick on the bed. You only let go of Daryl’s hand to pat the empty space on the other side of you for him. You’re getting shivers at how excited you are for this, both of them with you. No matter how many times you have it, both of them giving you attention at the same time, you can never get enough.

The minute Daryl settles against the pillows you lean against him and press your face to his shoulder, breathing him in. He smells good. 

A little like sweat and something that makes him Daryl, but you like that smell. You almost need to squeeze your legs together at the scent; manly, musky, sort of like eucalyptus and leather.

“You smell good,” you tell him, laying your head on his shoulder. “I really missed you.” 

You saw Daryl this morning. Rick too, but still. You really did miss him. 

Daryl doesn’t say anything, just pulls you under his arm and presses a kiss to your head. It’s silent, it’s calm, and everything feels right in the world for just a minute. 

Except - 

You’re still thinking about Negan.

Normally, laying in bed in between Rick and Daryl can cure everything. But there’s just too much on your mind right now. 

Someone on your mind.

“You okay?” Rick asks, moving even closer to you. He places a warm hand on your back, and you turn from your spot against Daryl to look at him. It’s an uncomfortable position, and because Daryl’s shirt is so big on you, it gets stuck when you’re trying to move, and that’s annoying, especially when you’re thinking about Negan fucking someone else, and -

“I know you wanted to go to the Sanctuary, but you know I can’t let you do that. I don’t wanna argue with you, but sometimes you don’t need to understand why I say certain things. You just need to listen,” Rick goes on and on, all the while you feel like it’s harder to breathe. 

It’s a strange feeling and emotion, what goes through your body whenever Rick talks to you like you’re an idiot. Whenever he talks to you like your father. It makes you so mad, makes you feel so frustrated that you want to just break out of the cage he’s putting you in and scream -

But it also turns you on. Your body betrays you, and you feel yourself getting turned on from Rick wielding his power over you, trying to tell you what to do and having such ownership over you, and it’s just too much. It’s too hot. Sometimes it feels too wrong, and - 

You try to answer him, scooting away from Daryl, but then the other man pipes in. 

“She ain’t mad about that,” he grumbles, almost sounding mad himself, until you can feel the way he’s rubbing circles on your back. “She don’t care about the stuff there, man. She likes him.” 

You sit up and let out a huge breath, because damn. Daryl really is observant. You swear you’re going to die from humiliation and shame (and not the hot kind) because of what’s now out in the open. But you’re so thrown off balance, that you do what you do best. 

Without thinking about the consequences of what you’re about to say (and maybe because deep down, you know there won’t be any), you blurt out: 

“I’m upset because I want Negan to fuck me.”

It’s not just that, and you don’t just want him to fuck you, but it summarizes what you’re feeling pretty well. Except -

Well, except you don’t feel any relief after saying it. In fact, you feel more anxiety. 

You look down at your lap before looking back up at Rick, and then Daryl. You can’t read their expressions, but you’re nervous so you quickly crawl out of bed. You feel so exposed now, and you’re really kicking yourself for blurting that out. 

You should've known it wouldn’t solve anything. Would just make things worse. Because, yeah, you do think it’s important to speak up for yourself, but being greedy and horny and gross isn’t exactly something that needs to be empowered. You’re worried about Rick and Daryl leaving you, but look at what you just said? And it’s not just any guy either, it’s Negan, and -

God, this is elder abuse. You’re abusing your boyfriends.

You need to sleep in your own bed tonight. 

But before you go, with your back turned to them in the doorway, you manage to spit it out. 

“IJustThinkILikeHimAndIKnowHe’sABadPersonButIThinkFuckingHimIsTheOnlyWayI’llBeAbleToStopThinkingAboutHim.” 

You rush out of the room after that, but not before calling out, “I love you!,” and “Daryl, dinner’s on the stove!”

You get to your room and lock the door behind you. You hardly ever use this room now, since you’re always either sleeping in either Rick or Daryl’s bed, so it feels cold and sterile. You can’t believe you said something so stupid. 

You’re the worst person you know. Except for maybe Negan, but - 

Oh god, you’re thinking about him again! 

You know that locking yourself in your room is not the end of it. Because two minutes later, Rick and Daryl come to the door. Rick knocks, and you tell him to go away. You know that you play the daddy game with him all the time, but times like this, he really does feel like a father figure or something close to it. 

Like you told him you wanted to date someone who’s horrible for you, and now he’s trying to deter you. Like you’re about to be in trouble, so you just stay locked up in your room, hoping he’ll go away. 

“Open this door,” Rick says, and you’re pretty sure he’s about to slip in a young lady at the end to really play up the father role, but he doesn’t. 

Still, you feel a shiver of arousal. Rick acting like a dad and all. You’re definitely a bad person, because instead of putting him at ease, unlocking the door and being normal, since you did just tell him you wanted his worst enemy to fuck you, you just conintune ignoring the door, panties getting more wet every time he gets louder. 

“No,” you say calmly again, almost giddy over the power you have right now. Rick knocks one more time and you’re about to throw your pillow at the door, when suddenly there’s a loud bang when the door is kicked open. 

Daryl. Great. He looks at you, famous poker face on, and comes into the room. 

“Can’t say sumthin’ like that and run off. Fuck’s wrong with you?” He scoffs, and your face heats up. You look down, wondering if therapists still exist in this world, because the humiliation you feel right now is only making your panties more wet. You try to play it cool. 

“Negan is bad, don’t you get that? What do I have to do to get you to see that?” Rick asks, and he’s pissed, so pissed, about to do that snarl thing he does with his mouth whenever he’s had it with you. 

You can feel the pout on your face, and you know you shouldn’t talk just in case you end up making the situation even worse, but you can’t fucking help it. 

“Daddy,” you start softly, not really sure who you’re addressing at the moment, “I know he’s a bad person. That’s why I feel so guilty, and,” Rick cuts you off, but then with a scoff, Daryl cuts him off. 

“You ain’t gettin’ out of this one, you understand?” Rick opens his mouth like he’s about to add something, hand on his hip, and he looks so hot, your mouth feels like it starts to water. You bite your lip. Rick nods, like he agrees with everything Daryl is saying. 

“You wanna give that sack of shit a test run? Go right on ahead, but I ain’t picking up the pieces of your little broken heart. Hard enough sharin’ you with Rick,” after a pause, Daryl literally leaves the room after that, and Rick looks like he’s about to lose his marbles. 

“Wait a minute,” he says, and you sit on the bed like you were just punished, hands folded on your lap. You already know what Rick’s going to say, because you’re just as shocked as he is that Daryl’s giving you…permission? 

“You let Negan touch you and I’m killing him on the spot. I don’t care what happens to Alexandria. You understand me?” You nod, and then you take his hand, trying to put some damage control on the situation by leading him back to his bedroom. 

You were worried for a minute, that Daryl wouldn’t be there. But he is, back in his spot, looking cozy and strong and gosh - he’s your teddy bear. Your safe place, and you let go of Daryl’s hand to squeeze into bed beside him. Rick gets on the other side. 

When the lights are off, the sound of a gunshot from way too close only momentarily killing the vibe (just a look between all of you, wondering if it requires urgency, but once you remember that Negan’s men are at the gate, you know they can handle it, because, see, Negan has improved the quality of life in Alexandria…sort of), Daryl speaks first. 

Rick seems angry about your confession, but Daryl seems hurt, yet somehow understanding? And that’s so much worse. 

“What’dya wanna do with him anyway?” A pause. “You imagine him and you, all alone? Or with us?” 

You don’t know how to answer that, because the truth is: all of the above. You’ve thought about the things Negan could do to you, just the two of you. He’s so much taller than you - and yeah, so are Rick and Daryl, but Negan is just so big. You love standing next to him, feeling useless and small, having someone else call all the shots, someone that loves to be in charge, because you know that Rick sometimes resents it and -

You close your eyes. This is too much. You’re a bad person. Honestly. You don’t deserve Rick or Daryl, and you sure as hell don’t deserve them both. 

Even so they press up against you. Rick’s hand rests on your hip, nice and warm, and you lean against Daryl’s chest. You’re halfway to putting your restless thoughts to sleep - life on the road has made you pretty good at sleeping regardless of the circumstances. You’ve been caught snoring with walkers groaning a mile in the distance, sleeping with your shoes wet, with your clothes all bloody, with a stomach that hadn’t had food in a week. 

Compared to that, life’s not too bad now. The things you’re worried about seem a little…foolish, but the fact that you can have these foolish thoughts makes something like happiness bloom in your chest. You never thought you’d get here. 

Maybe that’s why Daryl is so lenient with you. Because he knows, realizes, that the fact that any of you found love is a remarkable thing. Life is different now, and being together, taking what you want because who knows how fucking long anybody even has left - 

It’s really all you can do. All anyone can do. It’s a lesson you only learned because life became so bleak. 

Just as you’re drifting off, the sound of Daryl snoring (he always snores) lulling you to sleep, you hear Rick’s voice in your ear. A little raspy, and you’re not sure if you shiver from how hot it sounds, or because of what he’s saying. 

“Don’t think I’d actually kill him,” he says, and it takes you a minute to realize that he’s referring to Negan. He wouldn’t kill Negan. You bite your lip. 

You’re not sure what prompted him to say that. Maybe Daryl’s influence (and deep down, you wonder if it means he loves you too much or maybe not at all), but you take it. Or maybe he’s just saying it because you’re pushing your ass against the front of his body, and you know that men, Rick, are much more eager to please when maybe sex is on the horizon.