𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 - 𝘵𝘸𝘥 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴

𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘺𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘹𝘰𝘯 | 𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘺 *

inspired idea
- warnings: smut, rough, fighting

that asshole took my gun. he took all of my shit as soon as i was brought to this shitty prison. it's not like i asked to be here, if anything, i wanted out as soon as possible, but i was forced to be kept here.

i groaned. i was kept in this stupid cell. granted, i wasn't locked in here, but i didn't want to go out, especially since daryl was just outside with a few others.

i fell back against the bed, staring up at the springs of the bed above me. i wanted to get some fresh air and get out of this dumb cell, but i didn't want to see daryl.

he was a pain in my ass every time i talked to him, so i just avoided him as much as i could. i wanted my stuff back, i didn't feel safe without them.

then, i got an idea. everyone was distracted by the new baby, and maybe i could sneak into the room where they held all the weapons and get my gun back. no one would notice, right?

i jumped up, peeking my head out the cell, everyone was in the other room, their voices faint. i walked as quiet as i could, looking into the room they were all in.

daryl was holding the new baby, a bottle in her mouth. "you like that, huh? you like that sweetheart?" he smiled at the baby before he handed her to her brother.

i blinked when i heard that, my eyes narrowing. my stomach fluttered, but i ignored it, continuing forward. i walked past the room, hoping the shadows would conceal me, and from what it seemed it did.

i walked down the steps into the basement, opening the door as quietly as i could. i walked toward the table, rummaging through the bag of guns until i felt the familiar groove of my initials, taking it out of the bag.

i sighed in relief when i looked it over.

my heart stopped when i felt an arm grip around my shoulders, and the sound of a blade sheathing before the cold metal pressed roughly against my neck, making my head tilt back.

"tell me why i expected you to be here." i recognized the voice to be daryl's from the familiar rasp. i couldn't ignore the feeling of his hot breath flow onto my neck as he spoke.

"maybe because you know this is bullshit." i spat. i tensed when he pushed the blade deeper into my skin, barely drawing blood.

"drop the gun." he demanded. i flexed my jaw, but did as he said. i heard my gun clack on the ground. he instantly pushed me forward, and i almost fell before i caught my feet and spun around.

i blew my hair out of my face, touching the blood that dripped down my neck. he knelt, picking up my gun and looking it over in his hands.

"nice gun. think i'll keep this." he taunted. i felt my blood boil.

before i knew it, my fist flung to his face, slamming it into his jaw. he staggered back, groaning. he touched his lip that was freshly cut open, flexing his jaw.

then, he lunged for me. we rolled on the ground, throwing mindless punches until he finally pinned me to the ground.

"knock it off." he spat.

i thrashed against his grasp, his hands tight around my wrists, cutting off my circulation.

"stop." he repeated, this time his voice more demanding. i finally gave up, breathing heavily. little did he know, it was to catch him off guard.

i slammed my knee into his stomach, and he groaned, his grip faltering. i took the chance to punch him again, standing.

he jumped to his feet, punching me in the gut. he quickly slammed me toward the wall. i winced as my back hit the wall, barely grabbing my consciousness before he pinned my wrists to the wall with one hand and with the other he slammed my gun toward my forehead. he clicked the safety, and i stiffened.