You’re Not my Mom - Rick’s Daughter!Reader x Michonne Oneshot

Hi, guys! So one of you requested this literally MONTHS ago, and I can’t remember who or what the plot of the request was specifically. However, I do remember them wanting a Rick’s Daughter! fic where she was resentful to the thought of Rick and Michonne being together. And so, here it is!

Oh and let’s pretend Ron’s still alive and a potential love interest for the reader xD

Enjoy!

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“Carl, where’s Judy?” you whispered, gripping your gun tightly with your back pressed up against the wall on your shared bedroom. “She’s at Carol’s, still. Why? And why’re you whispering?” he said, but keeping his voice low. He sensed there was something wrong. Grimacing, you glanced out into the hallway again and saw the man there again, taking a portrait and sitting on the staircase, seemingly studying it. “There’s a man in the house,” you muttered, taking another gun from your back pocket and handing it to your brother.

“What’s he doing here?” he asked, eye wide and gripping the gun tightly. You rolled your eyes.

“I don’t know! C'mon, stay close and don’t let your guard down,” you said, waiting a few seconds before stepping out of your room and pointing your gun at the back on the man’s head, clicking it off of safety and feeling more confident when Carl did the exact same thing at the same time.

“The hell are you doing in our house?” your younger brother growled, eyes narrowed dangerously.

“I’m, uh, sitting on the steps…looking at this painting…waiting for your mom and dad to get dressed,”

“Stop bullshitting- wait, what?” you were caught on that last part. Your mom was dead, so what was he talking about? “Hi, I’m Jesus,” the man said, smiling slightly. You heard a door inside the house open and rapid footsteps come your way. You and Carl looked to see your shirtless father buttoning up his pants and Michonne adjusting her top. Your eyes widened in horror and Carl looked away pointedly, focused on the back of Jesus’ head.

“Carl, Y/N! Hey, um-” before your father could finish, the front door opened and Daryl, Glenn, Abraham and Rosita appeared, all pointing their guns at Jesus, but lowering them in shock when they saw the scene playing out in front of them. “I-it’s okay,” Michonne said, stuttering for the first time since you’ve known her.

She screwed my dad, didn’t she?

You threw her a disgusted look and lowered your gun once more, shoving past everyone on the staircase and storming out the front door, slamming it shut behind you. In a blind rage, you speed-walked all the way to the Anderson household, knocking on the door until it was swung open by a very tired-looking Ron. “Do you know what time it is? It’s 10 fucking AM. On a Saturday. I should be in bed, dreaming about Scarlett Johansson, not here at my front door. What do you want?”

During his little speech, Ron’s head was tilted back and eyes squeezed shut in annoyance. However, when he opened his hazel irises, they widened in surprise. “Y/N, what’s wrong? Why’re you crying?”

You brought a hand up to your cheeks. “Huh? I-I’m not…” warm liquid coated your fingertips and you stared at the salt water blankly, more tears rolling down your face. “Come in,” Ron said, pulling you inside his house. He led you upstairs and to his room without another word, sitting you down on his bed and looking at you, concerned. “What happened?” he asked quietly.

“My dad…and Michonne…” you whispered, looking down.

“What’s wrong? Are they okay?” he asked, though he couldn’t care less about the man who murdered his father. He only asked because Rick’s well-being would effect you, and it was no secret that Ron cared about you. “They’re sleeping together,” you said. Ron’s face erupted into flames.

“Oh…So is that good or bad or-?”

“It’s bad, obviously!” you exploded. “It’s like he’s just forgetting about Mom, like she never existed! And he didn’t even tell me and Carl, we had to find out for ourselves!”

You broke down into tears, hiding your face in Ron’s chest as he rubbed soothing circles on your back. “What’re you gonna do about it?” he asked quietly.

“I…I don’t know. I want her to stay away from me and my family, but that’s not gonna happen anytime soon. I don’t know…” you were broken. Your mother had been your everything and more. She was kind, warm and always made you happy when you were sad. Even in the early days when you thought you were never going to see your father again, she still managed to make you laugh and feel like everything would be okay. When she died, you lost yourself for a while. Sure, Rick and Carl had taken a great toll, but Lori was easily considered your best friend, in your eyes. You didn’t want to forget her and you didn’t want to replace her. That’s why you never became to close with any of the other female mother-like figures in the group and stuck to hanging out with people like Daryl and Abraham. Because no one could replace your mother.

“I think you need to talk to Michonne. That’s the only way you can get answers,” Ron advised. “Not now. I don’t wanna see any of them now. I want to stay here with you,” you said into his shirt. Ron nodded and pulled you back onto the bed with him, gently stroking your hair as you lay on top of him. For now, you wouldn’t have to worry about your family life. You could just relax in Ron’s arms.

***********************

You wished it could’ve stayed like that.

You were walking up the front porch steps to your house and it was dark out. Yes, you’d spent all day at Ron Anderson’s house, but who cared? He obviously cared about your feelings more than your own dad, anyways. You walked through the front door and began to walk into the kitchen/dining room to get a snack, but froze when you saw the entire group crowded around the table, looking over sheets and blue prints. You could only guess the news of your little scene had spread, for the sympathetic looks everyone gave you.

“Where have you been, young lady?” your dad stood up and looked at you wit his famous ‘Don’t feed me bullshit’ stare. You shrugged, walking over to the fridge and pulled out a yogurt. “I was at a friend’s,” you said in a monotone, aware of how everyone was listening. It was none of their damn business. “And which friend was this, may I ask?” your dad questioned. You rolled your eyes.

“I was at Ron Anderson’s house. Problem?” you snapped. Rick looked taken aback.

“Yes, I have a 'problem’. Both with the way you’re talking to me and how you’re so friendly with the very same kid who shot out your brother’s eye.” he said, his voice rising steadily. You could already feel the headache coming on; you’d had this conversation many times and you were growing tired of it. “Yeah, Dad, by accident. He was aiming at a walker and misjudged the shot!”

“Yeah, it was an accident, Dad,” Carl butted in, smiling at you behind Rick’s back, for he knew how much you liked Ron.

“That doesn’t excuse the way you were speaking to me!” your dad complained. You scoffed and began to walk out of the room. “I’m not having this conversation,” you spat venomously.

“You shouldn’t talk to your father that way,” Michonne said, making you reel around again. If looks could kill, she would be dead 100 times over. “And what authority do you have over me, exactly? Y'know, just because you’re screwing my dad, doesn’t mean you can have a say in family business.”

“Y/N!” Rick shouted, furious.

“Oh, sorry! Did I hit a nerve? Too bad,” you said sarcastically, before stalking upstairs and slamming the door behind you. You knew it was horrible of you to say, but you felt no remorse. That bitch wouldn’t replace your mom and she certainly had no right to tell you what to do.

For the next few days, you figured that maybe if you were rude enough to Michonne, she’s finally get the message and hit the road.

“Y/N, what do you want for breakfast?” she asked politely the next morning as you walked into the kitchen. You narrowed your eyes and refused to look at her.

“Nothing that you make, thanks,” you said, taking Carl’s fresh bowl of cereal and going back upstairs.

“BITCH, MY CEREAL!” he shouted after you.

The day after, you were sitting in the living room with your brother, expressing your everlasting love for jazz singers by rambling on about Ella Fitzgerald and Billie Holiday. Just as this happened, Michonne announced that she was going on a run and returned with not one, but two CDs titled America’s Best Jazz Musicians.

“So? What do you think?” Michonne was grinning brightly and you could see your father smiling from the corner of your eye. As tempted as you were to take the music, your stubborn nature overtook you. “I said I liked jazz singers, not musicians. What’s the point of listening to music if there’s no lyrics?” you said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. As saddened as you were to not take the CDs, watching the excited grin slowly melt away from Michonne’s face and be replaced by a disappointed frown was all worth it.

“Y/N, you know Michonne’s trying her hardest. She could’ve gotten hurt going out there to get that CD for you.” your father scolded.

“I didn’t ask her to,” you turned around and said. “hell, I would’ve preferred it if she didn’t come back.”

Before you could be yelled at again, you ran upstairs and locked yourself away. Michonne kept on trying to prove herself for a whole entire week, before she finally gave in and crumbled underneath your cruel words and harsh remarks.

You were coming home from spending the day with Ron and you opened the front door to see none other than your wannabe-mom sitting on the couch, waiting. “Where’s my family?” you asked, emphasizing the word 'family’ so she would understand that she wasn’t part of it.

“They’re not here,” she said calmly, analyzing you with her brown eyes. Annoyance spread throughout you like wildfire. “I can see that. I asked where they were.” you hissed venomously. Michonne chuckled without humor and nodded toward the couch across from her. “Sit.” she said.

“Why?” you asked, disgusted by her offer. You didn’t want to be anywhere near her.

“Because I am asking you nicely and we have to talk.” she reasoned, still using her calm voice.

“Well I don’t want to talk to you.” you began to raise your tone, reaching for the door once more.

“Why?” she asked as you were about to walk out. You bit the inside of your cheek, almost drawing blood, before walking back inside, slamming the door shut and storming over to where Michonne sat. You towered over her and glowered upon her with all the hatred and resentment you could muster. “Because I hate you for winning over my brother, sister and father. Because I don’t know who the hell you think you are, waltzing up in here, fucking my dad and then making yourself feel at home. I hate you-”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Michonne said dangerously, standing up also. You realized that she was taller than you, and that also added to your hatred towards her. “Oh yeah?” you challenged, taking a step closer so your noses were almost touching. Michonne scoffed and took a step back. “I’m not about to fight my stepdaughter-”

“I am not your daughter!” you screamed so suddenly it made Michonne jump. Tears instantly filled your eyes as you continued. “Don’t you ever call me that again! I’m not your daughter, not your stepdaughter, I don’t even want you to be a part of my life!”

“But why, Y/N?” Michonne asked desperately, tears filling her eyes also. “What can I do to make you like me? Why do you hate me?”

“BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT MY MOTHER!” you roared, rage ripping through you as violently as thunder through a storm. “MY MOTHER IS DEAD! AND YOU WILL NEVER BE HER!”

Michonne stared at you, speechless, until finally, she spoke. “Is that what this is about…?” she whispered to you. Your bottom lip quivered like a leaf in the wind and suddenly, all the fury left your body and was replaced by sorrow. “Do you honestly think that I would ever try and replace your mom?”

“I just want her back,” you whimpered, hugging yourself. “I…I want my mommy back!” you gasped convulsively and felt your knees go weak. However, before you hit the ground, Michonne wrapped her thin arms around you. You wanted to push her away at first, but you was too emotionally tired to do so. She ushered you to sit and she held you as you wept for Lori, rocking you back and forth and shushing you.

Eventually, you hugged her back.

When you calmed, she spoke up once more, taking your chin in her hand. “Y/N, I want you to understand something. I’m not trying to be or replace your mother in any way. I could never fill her shoes. What I am trying to do it be there for you as a motherly figure should, because I’m in love with your father and I’m in love with you kids. I would gladly die for you before any harms come your way.”

“I just feel so horrible. Like if by allowing you into my life, I’m kicking Mom out.” you admitted, not looking Michonne in the eye. “And there’s nothing wrong with feeling like that. But I think we both know that you’ll never forget your mother. Not you, not your father and not your brother.”

Tears threatened to spill again at Michonne’s words. “I’m just…I’m so sorry for treating you like shit.” you apologized, making her smile.

“It’s alright, Y/N,” she reassured you kindly. “It was all just one big misunderstanding. We just have to do better from this point on, alright?” you nodded and breathed deeply. It would still take you a long time to get used to Michonne, but you were willing to try. Now that you knew that she wasn’t trying to be your mom, you didn’t resent her as much. If your father loved her, then the least you could do is make an effort to get along and respect her.

“Alright. Okay.”

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I know it was short, but I have loads more imagines on the way.

Thank you all for sticking by me so loyally :)