love songs on the radio
(inspired by the song ‘love songs on the radio’ by mojave 3. one of my favorite bands🫰)
maggie greene x fem!reader
genre: fluff/angst
apocalypse au (set around season 3. prison era)
warnings: talk of wanting to give up/being mentally exhausted. reader is having doubts about everything, how life will turn out and what will happen/if maggie loves them and means what she says (hence the lyrics), but maggie comforts them ᢉ𐭩)
word count: 1.4k
A/N: this is my longest one-shot yet! I know it may not seem very long but I have a hard time writing more than a couple hundred words in one sitting (I get SEVERALLY distracted. I have the worst attention span omg.) but I hope you enjoy this! I’m going to try to start writing longer fics and maybe even start an ongoing one because I really wanna publish an actual story (I just need to actually stick to it, yk? 🤧) but again I really hope you enjoy and warning: this is only semi proofread but I’ll most likely proofread it again later but as I’m finishing this up it’s quite late and I need sleep🤧🫰
tags: @kyrasworldd
“love songs on the radio. your sweetheart lies in bed. she’s dreaming of the things (s)he said. and hoping that it’s meant.”
Light. Bright, blinding sunlight seeps in through the cell’s barred window as you open your eyes. You let out in involuntary groan before turning over to shield your eyes from the throbbing luster. As you turn on your side, you’re met with a sleeping Maggie. Her eyes are closed, breathing deep and steady, the only sound other than her breathing are the occasional little snores she lets out. And she looks oh so peaceful. You smile and very carefully push back some of the dark hair that fell to her face and over her eyes. Your smile softens and your eyes glance down. Being with Maggie was everything. It’s all you’ve ever wanted. But you can’t help but think it’s too good to be true, that it’s ephemeral. It feels impossible, especially now. You love her more than anything, but what if you love her so much you lose her? With a sigh, you close your eyes and take a deep breath before nuzzling your head into Maggie’s shoulder, feeling immediate comfort at her warm skin and familiar scent. This earns a soft moan from Maggie, her arms immediately wrapping around you as she slowly awakes. “Y/n…” she mumbles out. “Right here, baby.” You whisper.
“g’mornin,” she yawns and rubs her eyes but immediately shuts them as the light shines down on her emerald eyes. “Gah-“ she groans and presses your face back into her neck before resting her head on yours, burying her face in your hair. “It’s bright.” She states groggily. “Extremely.” You agree.“How long you been up?” She asks softly after a moment. “Not long. Maybe ten minutes or so.” You say and pull back a little, she instinctively moves her head so you can move and you two lock eyes. “You still havin’ those thoughts?” She whispers, seeing that look in your eyes. The look that shows all of your silent pain, the look that shows the millions of questions racing through your head, the look that shows all the words you want to say but never will. “I’m fine,” you reply. “I didn’t ask if you were fine- I asked if you were still having thoughts.” She retorts calmly. “.. really, mags. I’m good now.” She just stares at you, her eyes saying “yeah right,” but she doesn’t press the matter, knowing it won’t do any good in the moment. “Alright, but come to me if they start up again, okay? Even the smallest and silliest of thoughts, I wanna hear about ‘em.” You tear away from her eyes for a moment before nodding, looking back up and pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “Okay.” You whisper before getting up.
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Dirt stains the denim of your jeans as you kneel in the grass, your hands dig and dig at the dirt, creating a small hole as the muck and grime gets under your nails. Suddenly, you feel a hand on your back and you gasp, turning around. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya.” Maggie says softly, a worried look in her eyes. “Watcha doin’?” She smiles softly and gestured to the small hole you’ve dug, no more than a few inches deep. “Just.. creating a trap. In case the walkers get in, yknow?” You lie hopelessly, and she immediately sees it. “No you’re not.” She presses gently. “I’ve been watching you from the guard tower for over twenty minutes, you were crying. You’re digging because it distracts you from whatever’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours.” She bends down and cups your face with her hands. “Angel, please talk to me. Please get up from the ground and have a proper conversation with me. With eye contact.” She smiles softly, knowing how you get when you feel like this- like a burden, an inconvenience. If only you knew how far you are from that. You nod, knowing there’s no point in arguing or trying to run away. Where would you go, anyway? And the last thing you want to do is add to her stress. “Alright.” You whisper and stant up. “Can I shower first?” You ask, patting and swatting at your arms and legs, the mix of sweat and soot being deeply unpleasant. Maggie nods and pats your cheek gently before walking you back to the inside of the prison. You find your way to your cell block and to the showers, undressing and turning on the faucet. The semi-warm water streams down and you step in, it coats you completely, washing away the sludge. If only it could wash your pain away with it.
10:53 am
You stare at your watch, the one Maggie’s father, Hershel, gave you back at the farm, and take a deep breath as you step out of the bathroom, making your way to yours and Maggie’s shared cell. When you get there, Maggie is already waiting, sat on the bed. She has a hairbrush in her hand. She loves to brush your hair, to style it, play with it, and hopefully her doing your hair as you talk will make you more comfortable, help you open up. “Hi..” you whisper. “Hey,” she whispers back and pats the space of bed beside her. You sit down and take off your towel, unraveling your now darkened, shiny hair. “So, you gonna tell me what’s going on?” She asks as her hands gently section your hair, letting the silky strands rub across her fingers. “..just thoughts.” You shrug. “What kinds of thoughts? Scared? Sad? You know somethin’ I don’t?” You sigh and begin to feel yourself freeze up again, the tears beginning to sting your eyes. You couldn’t talk about it without breaking down. “I don’t know.” She pauses her movements, setting the brush down and sighing. “Angel.” She says in that sift, firm tone that she uses when setting rules or having a serious conversation. “I don’t know how to talk about it, okay? I don’t want to cry.” Her gaze softens, you can practically feel those emphatic eyes boring into the back of your head. “Then cry, break down in my arms, scream if you have to. Just dont shut me out. Not now.”
You feel the tears fall before the words even come out. “I just can’t help but think.. what’s the point? What’s the point of all of this? All the running and hiding and living in fear if we’re all gonna end up the same way, anyway? As one of them?” Maggie freezes and turns you around. “Oh, angel..” she whispers and pulls you in. What’s the point? She had asked herself that question many times, even before all of this. But she knows the answer now. You’re the point. “And what- what if you don’t love me? What if you just think you do because you don’t want to be alone and you need somebody to cling to?” Her heart drops. How could you possibly think that? She doesn’t love you? You’re just somebody to cling to? She can practically feel her heart breaking. “You think I don’t love you? That I don’t spend everyday wondering to myself how on earth I get the privilege of having someone as perfect as you? You think you’re just somebody I cling to so I don’t have to be alone? Well, that’s the most untrue and impossible thing I’ve ever heard. Do you even realize what you do to me? How much you make me feel? You are.. you are my everything. You are my home in a world where I’ve had to learn to accept that home isn’t a thing anymore. How could I not…” her words trail off as her own tears begin to form.
“.. I’m sorry.” Is all you can manage to say without the pressure in your throat increasing, feeling like your ability to breathe will be taken if you say another word. She shakes her head and rocks you back and forth. “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you, not in the slightest. I love you, okay? I love you so much and I need you to tell me when you’re thinking these things so I can show you just how truly wrong you are. You are so loved, okay? So, so loved. Every word I have and will ever say to you is the complete and most honest truth.” All you can manage is a nod before you break down again, your tears creating a wet patch on her shirt but she doesn’t even pay mind to it. All that matters is you. Holding you. Make sure you’re safe. Your sobs eventually die down and all that is heard is the sound your soft breathing. You fell asleep. And for the first time in weeks, there’s a sense of relief in your heart. The ache is fading, and you’re here. You’re hers and you’re going to be okay. You will make it, and so will she.
