#he finds judith's reactions amusing

[dqryls-bow]

I’m not going anywhere

Daryl Dixon x reader

Warnings: none !

You had been living in the prison for a while now, being on of the many that Rick accepted after Woodburys fall. You had made friends with a few of his ‘inner circle’ and you talked to the women a lot to help with different jobs such as laundry and cooking, or what was left to cook in the apocalypse.

At first, Rick was quite reluctant to let Woodbury join the prison, or what was left of it anyway, a few of Rick’s group had managed to persuade him saying everyone deserves a second chance, even though your community had done nothing wrong as it was all the governor, but who where you to argue? You were being offered shelter after all.

You had come to trust your new family, a few sticking out to you in particular, quickly becoming close friends with Maggie, while gaining Rick’s respect as the days went on, so much so he even trusted you with Carl and Judith, who you would baby sit every now and then. The baby would babble incoherent nonsense into your ear as she played with your hair absentmindedly, completely unaware to the horrors of the world while Carl would complain about your lame jokes (even though he laughed at them, they were unfunny according to him).

One particular hunter grabbed your attention as soon as you saw him. His closed of nature made you intrigued and curious about him. Although you had only had a full conversation with him once of twice, you’d exchange nods of approval and done him favors every so often. Even washing his vest when he would let you, Carol and Maggie found this amusing because if they were to touch the item of clothing, they’d have hell to pay. But they weren’t stupid, nor was anyone else in the prison. Rick continuously sending you both out on runs together, both oblivious to the obvious setup.

“Ask her out Pookie.” Carol quipped, playfully pushing Daryl’s shoulder.

You had also caught Daryls eye when you first arrived,not because of your looks, well partly, but because of your caring nature and personality.

He knew someone so caring couldn’t want him as an individual. You never really talked to him if he didn’t initiate it, which he thought was out of the fact that you didn’t like him. How wrong he was.

“Don’t like ‘er.” He sulked, brushing Carols hand off of his shoulder as they both watched you taking care of various duties around the cell block, picking up forgotten items as you went around, greeting people as they passed with one of your smiles.

“Mhm. So we’re both just watching her out of fascination? I’m sure she likes you too, that’s what Maggie said anyways, and I quote, it’s like both of them were hit with Cupids arrow.” The older woman faced him, her tight lipped smile mocking the archer.

Daryl rolled his eyes at her antics, continuing to watch you, admiring how you looked so effortlessly beautiful doing everyday activities. “Cupid must a’ messed up.”

Carol sighed at her best friend’s reaction, knowing that you liked Daryl back, it was infuriating that he wouldn’t grow a pair and just ask you out or at least exchange one non awkward moment. “Just ask her to help you with something, just make it up. You deserve to find someone too you know, just look at Glenn and Maggie. It all worked out for them, I mean, who would’ve thought Glenn had the guts? Anyways, go get the girl you’ll regret it if you don’t, then I’ll have to hear it all.”

With that the woman left him and his thoughts, different outcomes sweeping his mind of what could happen if he asked you. His friendship with you could end, or it could turn into something more? You could laugh in his face, not wanting to be with a redneck like himself.

“You ok?” You asked, walking towards Daryl after noticing him standing like a baby in a Cosco who had lost their mother and was on the verge of tears. His arms awkwardly hanging by his side, probably tired for how much he swung them.

“M’ fine.”

“If you were fine you’d of told me to go away by now, so no, your not fine. Wanna talk bout it?” You said, looking up at the archer, your voice dipping into a more worried tone, one he was familiar with as he had found comfort in you a few times before, but never about anything serious.

“Nah. I tell ya and you’ll go away.” He hung his head, avoiding eye contact as you raised your hand, moving the greasy pieces of hair that covered his eyes out of the way, your hand lingering there for a second.

“Daryl, I’m not going anywhere.” You smiled at him, standing on your tiptoes and placing a small kiss on his cheek, his face turning red from his nose to the tips of his ears, something you found adorable. “Cmon, we can go somewhere else and talk about anything you want, is that ok?”

Daryl nodded as he let himself be dragged away, your hand lightly hovering over his own, leading him to your cell, a knowing glance being shot his way from Carol, Daryl only rolling his eyes in response.

The cell was cold but was made to look nice by you. There was a few blankets scattered around, one for Judith who you had been babysitting for Rick earlier on in the day.

“That boy still come in here?” Daryl asked, looking at the scattered Lego bricks that where discarded on the floor.

“Who Patrick?” You replied, bending down to try clean up the mess that had been left.

“Mhm.”

“Yeah, he’s a sweet kid. Him and Judith don’t get along though, always fighting with each other, even though one is a baby and the other is a literal teenager. But whatever.” You laughed, not missing the was Daryl looked at you, his eyes shining diamonds that were worth millions, you could easily get lost in them.

“ ‘s sweet what ya do fer’ them.” He muttered, locking eyes with you as you smiled softly at him. Taking the time to admire his features.

“Thanks.” You mumbled “tell me if you want me to stop ok?” You tilted your head at him, moving closer, his body not flinching away like it would normally do out of instinct, instead it leaned into your advance, embracing you in his arms as your lips connected, a kiss full of love and passion, maybe a little bit of lust, but no one acted on that, yet…

Even Daryl shocked himself with how quickly he melted into you, your hand snaking behind his head. “Why would I say that?” He asked, breaking the kiss, being greeted with your eyes looking back into his own.

“Can’t believe all the time we’ve waisted.” You laughed, remembering both of your stupidity to not just talk to each other.

“I’ll make up fer’ it”

“Told you I’m not going anywhere.” You grinned up at your archer, interlocking your fingers with him as you both admired you newborn girl, her eyes an exact replica of Daryl’s while her smile replicated your own.

“Shes beautiful, looks just like ya.” His smile could be seen from miles away, spreading up to his eyes and his nose scrunching.

“I love you.” You spoke lovingly, rocking your baby in your arms slowly, as if she could be broken with how delicate she was.

“I love ya too.”

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 4,942 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: S10, The Reapers Warnings: language, violence, gore, angst A/N: This is Part 4 of a series! Find all the parts on my pinned post, the Master List Summary: Daryl helps Y/N and DJ get settled in Alexandria.

Part 3

You walked beside Daryl, a teary smile on your face as you looked ahead at Judith and RJ running and playing with Dog. “It seems impossible that this little girl is the same chubby baby I fed pureed carrots to,” you laughed. “And RJ... They’re beautiful, Daryl.”

“Yeah. They are.” The softness on Daryl’s face was threatening to melt you into a puddle. His eyes turned to DJ next, and that softness remained.

You met his blue eyes again and your lips were drawn down in a soft pout. Tears brimmed in your eyes. “I’m so sorry,” you said. “About Rick. And now Michonne’s gone off… Maggie told me.”

“Yeah,” Daryl drawled, ducking his head and fighting the tidal wave of anxiety and grief and hopelessness that always crested in his chest when he thought of his lost brother. “‘M sorry too. Mostly for them,” he said, nudging his head toward the kids again. “But it’s been hard on everybody…”

“Including you, I’m sure.” Tears burned in your eyes again and you did your best to blink them away. Rick and Michonne were family, and you had hoped to reunite with them again too as soon as you’d found Maggie. The news about much of your old family had been hard to take, especially after losing everyone else at your community so recently. But you knew how deep and unhealing that wound must be for Daryl, losing a true brother…

Daryl hummed a response but you let the topic drop for now.

Alexandria was certainly left worse for wear since the Whisperers had briefly occupied it with their horde. Daryl cast a sideways glance at you as if worried about your reaction to the destruction and mess you were now walking through.

“Ain’t usually like this… ya just arrived at the end of a full-on war,” he said.

Far from seeing concern or judgement on your face, Daryl noted that you seemed to be seeing it with eyes that picked out the potential. He felt another swell of warmth for you. “If it’s home for you, then it’ll be home for us too,” you said. “And I’ll be more than happy to help however I can with the rebuilding.”

Home. It was true that Alexandria was home, and he would die to defend it and the people in it, but there was another home that he’d lost a long time ago, and it was now walking beside him… Then, he suddenly remembered what Carol had said to him at the wall. “Please tell me you aren’t going to stick them in some random empty apartment or house.” His feet must have faltered because you turned and glanced over at him immediately.

“Everything okay?”

“Uhh—yeah… I just—” he chewed anxiously on his bottom lip for a moment, and you nearly smiled. It was the same nervous habit he’d always had. “I was thinkin’, if you and DJ wanted to… I mean, ya could stay at my place. I’ve got a spare bedroom—s’where Jude and RJ usually sleep when I’ve got ‘em, but that ain’t no big deal. I can make ‘em up bedrolls on the floor in my room if they’re stayin’ or—” he was rambling nervously, “—if ya ain’t comfortable with that, I mean, stayin’ at my place, we’ve got plenty of other apartments and houses. We could set ya up somewhere else—I just thought, with DJ, might be easier—and maybe would be, I dunno, would be—"

“Daryl—” You stopped him with a hand gentle on his arm. “Of course we’d love to stay with you, if you’re okay with the extra trouble.”

He gulped. The last fucking thing he wanted now was to be parted from you and DJ, even if it was just by half a block. “Ain’t no extra trouble,” he drawled quietly, slightly transfixed from the touch of your hand on his arm.

You laughed. “You say that now… but you may have forgotten over the last decade, I can be a handful,” you joked. “And DJ? He takes after his dad in some ways.”

Daryl let out an amused exhale and shook his head. “Poor kid,” he joked, but you shot him a look.

“Lucky kid,” you corrected him. God, he’d missed that. You had always been so affirming to him. You had unwavering confidence in him and you told him and showed him every damn day. His internal monologue was often so dark, especially lately with things all seeming to go wrong. But you had always shown a light on him, always told him so earnestly that he was good and loved even when he didn’t believe it or didn’t feel he deserved it himself. He felt a swell of gratitude and emotion and fought against what felt like a huge bubble in his chest that was getting ready to burst. Your voice interrupted him.

“So. Which way is home?” You were looking at him expectantly.

“Uhh, this way,” he murmured, tilting his head toward the next street over. He let out a loud whistle and Dog turned and came rushing back. “Hey—Jude, RJ. Let’s go! We’re gonna help Y/N and DJ get settled, alright?”

“Uncle Daryl?” RJ said when he had trotted over, looking up with shining brown eyes.

“Yeah, bud?”

“I’m hungry,” he said.

Daryl ruffled a hand through his own hair a little anxiously. “Yeah… yeah, we’ll have to see ‘bout that in a bit. Let’s head home first and then I’ll figure that out, okay?”

You and Daryl exchanged a knowing glance. Keeping growing kids nourished was a constant worry.

“Mom?” DJ asked you softly. You looked down at him with a questioning look. He dug into his small bag and pulled out an apple. It was slightly bruised on one side, but shone bright red in the sun and seemed just as crisp as when you’d picked it for him a few days back. “Can I?” he asked. Your heart swelled and you nodded as you ran your fingers down one of the wavy strands of his brown hair.

“Of course. That’s a very kind thing to do,” you said proudly.

DJ trotted a few paces to catch up to RJ and then nudged him gently with his elbow, holding out the apple to him. RJ took it excitedly and thanked him with a broad smile. He took a huge bite and then offered it to Judith, who also happily shared it. Pretty soon the three of them were sharing it like old pals.

Daryl was smiling as he watched the exchanged. “That’s some kid ya’ve got,” he said softly.

“You mean that we’ve got,” you corrected him. “He’s your son, Daryl.”

Daryl gulped and looked down at you, his eyes still a little wide with disbelief. We. You’d said we. He wanted so desperately to read into that and allow his mind to run on with all his foolish hopes… He nudged his nose up in a shy nod and chewed on his bottom lip a moment. A son. He had a son.

The kids ran ahead, chasing after Dog and throwing a stick for him time and time again, until finally Daryl cleared his throat and nodded toward the nearest condo on the end of a small row. “This is me,” he said. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck nervously. “Yer place now too, if ya think it’ll work okay. And ya don’t mind a bit’a dog hair.” It was as if he needed to give you every opportunity to change your mind.

“DJ and I have been sleeping wherever I could find the smallest bit of shelter or safety for quite a while now. We moved every day. This is going to be a huge change for the better. Thank you.” You studied his expression again. “And I don’t mind the dog hair,” you laughed. Dog seemed to have heard you because he came and slipped through the space between your legs, stopping and leaning to one side, rubbing his body against your leg, looking up at you. You laughed and bent to give him neck scratches and he was soon licking your face.

“He likes ya,” Daryl said. There was a smile in his voice. He took that moment and allowed himself to take in the way the afternoon light was illuminating the hues in your eyes as you glanced back up at him and the shine in your hair. He felt like he’d been transported to some alternate dimension—he was so used to struggling to live every day without you and suddenly… here you were. Dog finally darted to the garage door, prancing anxiously on his front paws, and Daryl collected himself enough to go over and push it up. RJ and Judith raced in after Dog, but DJ waited back.

Your eyes went immediately to the bike parked there. “Oh my God,” you said, grinning. The light in your eyes now seemed to be sparking on his behalf as you strode over to it. You shot him a brilliant look and Daryl’s heart skipped a beat and then sped up. “This is amazing. Did you build this?” you asked, touching it here and there.

Daryl brushed a hand back through his hair and shrugged. “Yeah. Aaron, you’ll meet Aaron, he had been collectin’ parts for years before he brought our group in. He didn’t really know what to do with them. First damn thing I did after I was sure Alexandria was gonna be real, safe, was put ‘em to good use.”

DJ was looking at the bike with eager interest and excitement. “You built it? From scrap?” he asked again.

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod. “Yep.”

“Can I have a ride?” he asked excitedly.

Daryl smiled. “Yeah. ‘Course. Uhh—as long as that’s okay with yer mom,” Daryl said, glancing your direction, resting a hand on the handlebar.

“Nobody safer to ride with,” you said, nodding. “As long as you wear a helmet, DJ. But not today. Maybe tomorrow, if the weather is good, alright?” DJ seemed satisfied with that and ran ahead into the condo after Judith and RJ. You glanced over at Daryl again and his eyes were already on you. He was wringing his hands a little anxiously. “Well, when do I get a ride from you again? It’s been a while. Maybe tonight?” Daryl’s mouth dropped slightly open and you laughed nervously when you realized the obvious innuendo. You felt your cheeks flushing. “The bike!” you said in a hurry. “I meant on—” you pressed a hand up to your face and ducked his gaze. Daryl was gulping nervously. “Jesus—I meant on the—” You sighed and laughed again, quite sure that your face was still bright red.

Daryl rubbed a hand over the back of his neck awkwardly, but he was also feeling a heat in his chest like you’d just struck flint and steel to tinder and he too let out a small, awkward laugh. Not to mention that intimate scenes he held dearly deep in his mind were suddenly rushing into the forefront like they’d been called. He could still feel the shape of your hip under his hand like it was just yesterday, or the softness of you as his fingertips dimpled into your skin… He could see the water cascading down your body as he pressed you back against the wall of the shower. He could hear your hurried breathing, the breathy way you used to say his name… The noises of pleasure he’d been able to pull from you. When he couldn’t sleep or when things were just too dark, he’d let his mind wander over those memories, but he had to limit himself. Otherwise, he would have run the risk of living entirely there in that daydream, forgetting the now, and then how would he have kept going, knowing it may be lost forever? And then suddenly you were made real in front of him again. Here. You were right here. Shit. Get it together, man. He refocused his attention on the expectant look on your face. “Uhh—lemme show ya inside,” he drawled.

You bit your bottom lip and followed him in. The kids were all piled on the couch, Dog in front of them, and your heart lifted to see DJ interacting with Jude and RJ so easily. There must have been a smile on your face because Daryl was looking at you with the corners of his eyes crinkled in one too.

“It’s been a long time since he’s been able to be around any other kids, before Hershel, I mean,” you said. The smile faded again and Daryl thought you looked suddenly veiled in sadness briefly.

“C’mon,” he said, tilting his head toward the small hallway. “Bathroom in there,” he said, passing the small room on the right. “Here’s the spare room,” he said. Out of habit he tried to flick on the light and then remembered that the Whisperers had trashed the solar panels and he flicked it back off. “Uhh… sorry. No power back up yet.”

“Haven’t had power in years,” you said. “Won’t even miss it.”

Daryl ruffled his fingers back through his hair again. “We’ll get it back up,” he said with certainty. “‘Til then I got plenty of candles and lanterns and stuff. Remind me before it gets dark. My room is just—” he pointed down the hall to the next door, “right there.”

You leaned on the doorframe next to him and looked in at the little room. A bed. A real bed. “Thanks for this.”

He ducked his head and nodded, shifting nervously beside you. “Yeah. S’nothin’. Dun need to thank me.”

There was a loud squeal from one of the kids and you both moved back to the main room. Dog had jumped on the couch with the three of them and was now laying fully across their laps. You hadn’t seen such a grin on DJ’s face in what felt like a lifetime. You glanced around the room, taking in the space and what Daryl had done to make it his. There were various antlers and pelts around, and the coffee table had a few old books on it, the top one about piracy. “Hmm,” you hummed.

“What?” he asked.

“Nice place you have here. It’s very Daryl,” you said, a small smile curving your lips. “It suits you. Though maybe a cabin in the woods would still suit you better.”

Daryl’s stomach suddenly clenched. A cabin in the woods. Fuck. He had to tell you. He had to figure out how the fuck to tell you…

“What do you think?” you asked him, and Daryl suddenly realized you must have been talking to him.

“Sorry, what?”

“Think the kids would be okay here on their own for a while so we can go try and find some food for everyone?”

He nodded quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, and we can ask Rosita and Gabe to look in on ‘em.”

Your face brightened. “Please, let’s go see Rosita.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah, course. And—Gabriel ain’t the same anymore,” Daryl said. “He’s turned out to be real good to have around.”

You shook your head and let out a laugh of disbelief. “You remember what I said when he finally got down off that rock?”

Daryl snorted out a laugh and nodded. “Yeah. Ya asked if we could put him back.” You laughed again more earnestly.

“And—him and Rosita? Really? I mean, Maggie told me but it’s still hard to wrap my brain around…”

Daryl laughed again, fiddling anxiously with a rock on the side table. “I think that took all of us by surprise at first,” Daryl drawled. “But—” he shrugged. “They do seem to be doin’ good together. C’mon. Let’s get goin’ while we still got daylight.” He stepped farther into the room and managed to grab the kids’ attention. “Hey—Jude. Yer the oldest, so yer in charge, alrigh’? We’re just gonna go see about some dinner, okay? If we ain’t back when it’s startin’ to get dark, ya go to Aunt Rosita’s or find Uncle Jerry and Aunt Nabila at their place, okay? And keep away from that part of the wall tha’s down. I mean it. Ya can show DJ around, but I don’t want ya over there.”

Jude nodded and agreed. “Okay.”

“Dog, get down,” Daryl said, and the Malinois jumped back onto the rug. Daryl hugged Jude and ruffled RJ’s hair. Then he held a fist out to DJ, who eagerly bumped it with his own and grinned. Daryl knelt down so he was at their eye level again. “We’ll be back just as soon as we can, alrigh’? Ya’ll be good and stay safe. Jude, ya got yer sword? Good. You and DJ, watch out for RJ.”

Your heart felt like it grew three sizes just watching him reassuring the kids and making sure that everyone was alright for you both to leave. “We’ll try not to be too long,” you said, and you went and grabbed each of them in a hug, leaving a kiss on the top of DJ’s head too. “Keep your bow with you,” you told him. “Good. See you soon, hopefully with some dinner.”

The reunion with Rosita was emotional, and you cooed over baby Coco with her and lamented the loss of Siddiq when she told you what had happened in brief. By the time you were heading back to Daryl’s to grab his bike and head out, you agreed that Gabriel was an entirely different person than he had been when you’d known him. “Gotta admit… the eye and still wearing the stuffy outfit—it’s definitely a look,” you said, walking back beside Daryl.

He let out a small laugh and glanced over at you. “Like I said, he ain’t the same.” He strapped his crossbow onto the bike and slung his leg over, standing up so you could slip on behind him. Nervous flutters were already rising before you even climbed on, and when your hands finally settled lightly on his sides, he felt like his body temp rose a hundred degrees. He did his best not to stiffen with nerves and settled down on the seat. “Ain’t sure what we’ll find out there,” he said. “Those assholes brought a horde through ‘round here. Scared off most of the game.”

Your arms looped around him more fully and he gulped again. “Fish probably didn’t run away. Neither did the plants and fungi. We’ll find something,” you said ardently. “We always find something.”

Daryl started his bike and, for a brief moment, thought he felt your cheek press to the back of his shoulder. “Ya ready?”

“Hell yeah!” you yelled over the engine, and he could hear the smile in your voice.

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Having any luck?” you asked Daryl as you approached from out of the woods nearby again, a canvas bag that now seemed rather full clutched in your hand.

“Mhm… Carp. Gonna taste like mud,” he said, nodding to the huge fish lying on the grass beside him. “But they’re definitely better than nothin’. You?”

“Yeah. Found a good haul of mushrooms—chantarelles, oyster mushrooms, chicken of the woods. And a bunch of edible plants. Ramps?” you held up a clump of something from your bag.

“Uhhh—am I s’posed to know what the hell yer talkin’ about?”

You laughed heartily and Daryl’s heart skipped a beat, as it seemed to do damn near every time you did anything. “Ramps!” you said again. “They’re a wild onion. Taste kind of like a cross between garlic and scallions.”

“Hmm,” Daryl nod, turning his attention back to the river and shooting an arrow into the now writhing form of a dark fish. “Learn somethin’ new ev’ry day. I think I always just called them wild onions. No need to be fancy about it,” he teased you, grabbing his arrow and the impaled fish with it.

You gave him a look and then turned your eyes back to the pile of large fish on the bank. “I think we have enough here for quite a bit soup. We’ll be able to feed some hungry kids tonight.”

Daryl retrieved his arrow and grabbed a bag for the fish from his pack. “Tha’s what it’s all about,” he said.

You spun around as you heard a twig snap somewhere behind you in the trees. Daryl stood and grabbed his bow again, immediately on edge, and paced several steps forward in the soft grass until he was slightly in front of you. It was a protective instinct he’d always had… even now it came back like old muscle memory.

The snap of the dry wood was soon followed by a growing growl sound and the two of you both breathed sighs of relief. “Goddamn walker. Tha’s all,” he drawled.

“Yeah,” you agreed, though the worry didn’t leave your face completely. Daryl was again sharply aware that you’d been through some very serious shit very recently, shit he didn’t yet know the full extent of. “We should get back. It’s going to start getting dark soon.”

“Yeah. I was just thinkin’ the same thing.” Daryl unsheathed his knife and advanced on the scrawny and emaciated looking rotter ambling toward the two of you. He lunged with a perfectly placed strike and sunk his blade into its head. It crumpled to the leaf litter and laid still.

The two of you strode back toward his bike, side by side, and you glanced over at him when you felt his eyes on you. “Hmm?” you prompted him, adjusting your hold on the foraging bag stuffed full of ingredients over your shoulder.

He shrugged and looked back down toward where he was placing his boots. “Will ya tell me—uhh… ‘bout when he was born? I mean—where were ya and—guess I just wanna know ‘bout it all,” he said.

Your expression was soft as you looked back at him and Daryl relaxed some. “Yeah, of course. Daryl, you can ask me anything you want to about DJ. Really about anything. Ask me anything about anything,” you laughed. “I’ll do my best to answer. Oh—and remind me to show you the book when the kids are in bed tonight.”

“The book?”

You nodded. “Yeah. The book.”

He nodded, intrigued. “Alrigh’.”

You sighed, looking ahead and taking in the way the light was filtering through the leaves still clinging to the craggy oak branches. “When DJ was born, I was still in Georgia. You remember how I said people just were finding me or I was finding them?” Daryl nodded. “I had been trying to scavenge supplies from this huge department store, get ready for the baby and find some more vitamins and stuff. I thought there was a good chance there were supplies left inside because the parking area had been some kind of military checkpoint or something and the whole thing had these huge fences chain link fences topped with razor wire. I hadn’t seen any walkers in there… I found some fence cutters and made a way inside. Pried a door open and got into the building. I was right. There were supplies in there,” you laughed dryly. “But the reason I hadn’t seen any walkers was because there were people living inside.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed heavily.

“I was lucky—very lucky. They turned out to be good people, just a small group of survivors. A found family. They saw, immediately of course, that I was pregnant and one of them happened to be a midwife. They were all with me when I went into labor. We had left the store by then. There were getting to be too many dead in the suburbs and we’d headed away from the populated areas. We took a Jeep and a truck full of supplies and found this farmhouse and set up there for the winter. It reminded a little of Hershel’s farm. We had a decent stock of supplies and I had everything I needed for the baby but I was still terrified of course… especially after what happened to Lori. But everything went smoothly and after an excruciating 14 hours of labor, I delivered a healthy baby boy and named him Daryl as soon as I saw him.” Tears brimmed in your eyes as you looked over at him again. Your voice was soft and breathy when you spoke again and you’d had to fight to get the words out. “I wish you were there,” you said. “I wished that more than anything at the time and still. He was just this tiny little thing, all wiry arms and legs.” You sniffled and tried to pull yourself back together. “For a birth in the apocalypse, I was very lucky,” you said with a dry laugh.

You walked in silence for a while, each of you sinking into your own thoughts, but Daryl finally broke it again. “Those people—were any of ‘em still with ya when—were any of them with ya when yer community was attacked?”

The weight of it settled back over you and you nodded. “Yeah. Two of them were.” The only sound was the soft noise of the damp earth and leaf litter beneath your boots.

“‘M sorry,” Daryl drawled. “We’ve all lost a lotta people over the years, but I ain’t never lost everybody all at once like ya have. Not really. I mean, it felt that way when the prison fell, but I knew there were more of us out there. I knew you were out there, somehow.”

The muscle in your jaw tensed and you nodded, looking up again at the last bit of afternoon light waning against the tops of the trees. In a moment, the tension on your face seemed to pass and you glanced back over at him. “We’ve all lost people. Who’s to say what’s better or worse?”

On the ride back to Alexandria, Daryl swore you held on even more tightly to him than you had on the way out, and he knew he wasn’t imagining that you were leaning into him.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The fish and foraged ingredients had made a huge pot of soup, enough to feed all the kids in Alexandria and a good many adults too. Everyone’s mood was jovial with a full stomach as you sat around the little table with Daryl and the kids. It wasn’t lost on you that DJ and Daryl ate exactly the same; ravenously, unabashedly, and frequently using their sleeves as napkins. It had you smiling through most of the meal. Daryl had caught you staring at him once.

“What?” he prompted you, hurriedly wiping a sleeve across his mouth as if he thought he had food stuck there.

You smiled and shook your head. “Nothing.”

You’d tried to convince Carol to come for dinner but she’d insisted she didn’t want to intrude on your first night back. She gladly accepted some of the soup though, and you’d made her promise to come find you the next day. Now, you and Daryl were telling Judith, RJ, and DJ old stories and regularly cracking them up into fits of giggles. Dog was happily chewing a scavenged deer bone on the rug.

“Hey, what ‘bout that time,” Daryl had to pause and let out a gruff laugh, pointing at you. “‘Member, ya flipped the bird at that squatter? And then—”

“Alright!” you said standing up hurriedly, and cutting him off on purpose. “I think they can hear the rest of that story when they’re all older! Kids, help me clear the table please,” you said, grabbing Daryl’s plate and shooting him a look. His blue eyes were smiling and they followed you all the way into the kitchen as he leaned back in his chair.

Judith and RJ wanted to stay the night since they hadn’t seen their Uncle Daryl in so long (and you were definitely an added bonus) so you helped him set up bed rolls for them on the floor in his room before tucking DJ in in your own bed down the hall. You stroked his hair away from his face and kissed his forehead.

“Mom,” he started, yawning and sinking more deeply into his pillow.

“Mhm?”

“I think I really like this place. And… it’s nice to be around other kids again. This feels like a family,” he said and you nodded in agreement, smiling serenely.

“It does, doesn’t it?”

“So… can we stay?” he asked.

“What do I always say?”

“‘We can stay as long as we can stay’,” he recited.

“Right. But, if it makes you feel better, I think and I hope that will be a long time.”

[theapocalypseisonlythebeginning]

Bad People or Good People? - Chapter 6: We're the Good Guys, Clem (Part 1)

story summary:

“Find a group…” are one of the last words Lee says to Clementine. And so, Clementine does. Over and over and over again… until Clementine finds Daryl Dixon and his group at the prison. Whilst it’s easy to gain the affection of Daryl, a man who soon becomes like a father to her, other members of the group might have some issues with her… not to mention the looming threat of other people still out there.

Changes Clementine’s fate after telltale’s season 1 to fit in with the Walking Dead show, intertwining the stories from mid season 3 and onwards. Clementine is therefore 9 at the start!

(I will try to write with enough details that if you haven’t seen or played either of the medias, you can follow along. But I also keep in mind that some have played and seen things multiple times so if something that was canon doesn’t make sense immediately, it will in a later chapter <3 )

chapter summary:

With Clementine revealing the location of the group after her, Rick makes a risky decision to take some of the group’s fighters to go after them despite the Governor looming on their doorstep. Meanwhile, Merle finds more reasons to provoke Daryl.

read it on Ao3 too (closed to only those with AO3 accounts, send an ask if you want an invite) previous chapters:   Glenn || Find a Group || Fever || Forgiveness || An Honest Man || A Stronger Girl || word count: 4212

The following morning, instead of the warm touch of sunlight rousing her, the harsh wailing of an infant did instead.

It was not the first time Judith had awoken Clementine. So she didn’t jump as much this time around.

Rick was stood by the make-shift crib: the culprit for why the infant had suddenly begun to cry, roused from her sleep unwillingly. The box adorned with her scribbled name was becoming slightly too big for her, advocating both for how Clementine had already been with the group for a while now (as it had fit her perfectly at the start), and for how swiftly infants grew (and perhaps it also showed how well the group was handling taking care of an infant despite the world gone to hell).

“Sorry.”

That had been Rick’s voice: words directed both to Judith and the two roused group members sleeping on the catwalk.

He picked his infant daughter up, glancing briefly toward Clementine and Daryl stirring in their sleep. As she was lifted in the arms of an adult she recognized, Judith calmed a bit, but was still fussing and kicking and scrunching her face up in annoyance.

It was obvious that her reaction wasn’t just from being roused from her sleep: she was hungry.

Normally Daryl handled the morning feedings. Upon the cry from Judith, said archer had indeed moved to stand too. But upon seeing Rick, he’d fallen back onto his mattress and tossed an arm over his eyes to try and catch a minute or two more shuteye.

The sight of Clementine and Daryl seemed to amuse Rick, who barely ever came up those stairs at least in the morning. Lately, though, Rick seemed to take more of an interest in his baby - something was healing inside of him. Something Clementine hadn’t known was broken.

She had wondered why Daryl had had to have taken over the role of a father… but had been too shy to ever ask.

From the way Rick was taking more of an interest, though, maybe the crib would not be in Daryl’s presence for much longer. Merle would be thrilled, always complaining about the baby waking him up.

With just a foot between Clementine and Daryl, Rick turned an amused look toward the two. “What are you doing out here?”

Without a mattress, and with barely a pillow under her head, it was very uncomfortable sleeping out on the catwalk near Daryl. But, it was the only place she felt she could sleep.

“Didn’t Carol offer you a cell?”

Clementine paused before replying, in a groggy voice, “I can’t fall asleep there.”

“She’s fine ‘ere,” Daryl grunted out, arm still over his eyes.

Amused and slightly… proud? - Rick nodded his head and instead said: “Why don’t you at least move a mattress out here?”

With a little nod, Clementine agreed. It would be more comfortable.

Rick cocked his head, and she stood to follow him to her cell. With one hand, the other arm clutching Judith, Rick helped her move a mattress out onto the perch. Happily, Clementine plopped down onto the mattress, patting it all around her in a grateful and joyful gesture.

“You can keep your cell, for when you wanna sleep there anyway, or store yeh things.” Rick leaned down to pat her head, ruffling her for once exposed hair - the only time she took her hat off was when sleeping, so it wouldn’t get lost when she moved around. That hat was too important to her for her to ever lose it. “Carl, Michonne and I are getting ready to head off. There’s breakfast ready for whenever you’re hungry.”

“Gotta put that on hold, Rick,” Daryl muttered. With a slight grunt, Daryl sat up on his mattress and offered a look to Clementine.

The girl nodded her head confidently. 

“I know where Ylva’s group is at.”

“Then let’s gather the group,” Rick announced with a sudden urgency. He nodded his head at Daryl with a silent meaning which Clementine could not figure out before heading down the stairs.

She didn’t care about the hidden meaning for long though, because when Daryl turned his eyes to her once more, there was a gentle pride in his eyes. “You’re doin’ good, kid.” And honestly… as little as she knew about him, as little as he knew about her, that tiny bit of praise meant the world to her - that was how quickly she had attached herself to him. As unhealthy as that was, and as dangerous as it was in this new world, Clementine was there to stay beside Daryl.

Sprinting off to get ready for breakfast, Clementine left Daryl on his own. He stayed put on his mattress, not bothering to get cleaned up or dressed for anything anymore (why be clean when there’s an apocalypse happening outside?)… but waiting for Clementine to be ready so they could walk down together.

His eyes flickered to the mattress next to his.

Man… What kinda shit had he gotten himself into now? Caring for an infant whilst the dad got his shit together was one thing. It meant he wasn’t the sole person responsible of shaping the morals and identity of a little fragile human being. It meant it wasn’t his fault if the kid became screwed up because he could blame it on the dad leaving. But Clementine would look up to him and him alone. She’d need him to help guide her into becoming a semi decent person and Daryl…

Could he really do that? Was Daryl a semi decent person to begin with?

Maybe he ought to push her onto Glenn and Maggie instead.

…

Rick’s entire group was gathered in the dining area, breakfast served in bowls but fully ignored by all the second Daryl and Clementine had joined them.

Now, Rick was pouring over a map, eyes scanning it for the safest route. But it was difficult considering they had no information. If he went there, he would be leading part of his group into unknown territory to check out a place occupied by a group Clementine had run from, and which was clearly hostile toward others.

Was it worth it? If he went, he’d be making the remaining people left behind in the prison vulnerable to the Governor’s attacks - more vulnerable than they already were with so few fighters, and so few guns.

He rubbed a hand over his face, acutely aware of the pure silence almost suffocating him, and the stares of the others watching him, waiting for a decision, a plan... Making decisions was much harder as of late. He couldn’t trust himself. Half the time he thought he was doing the right thing, only to lose himself to delusions.

That, or he was making decisions based in dictatorship which were given responses of silent, blank faces from those he trusted the most.

From his family.

And such reactions… hurt.

The only right thing he had done as of late was let Clementine in… Despite the trouble she had brought them, as Hershel might have once said, Rick fully believed rescuing a child remained the best thing even in this world.

Said girl was sitting hunched up on a nearby bench, staring down at the floor with wide eyes. She wasn’t the greatest with having all attention be on her, and clearly this had been a difficult decision for her. This, too, confused Rick. If Clementine was scared of the group, why was she protecting them? Why was she still loyal to some of them? And would she be a flight risk because of it?

“We could go up through here?” Hershel suggested, pointing toward the map.

Rick didn’t answer Hershel’s suggestion, instead glancing back at Clementine. Next to her, Daryl stood with his arms crossed, eyes like a hawk awaiting its prey. Protective was an understatement when it came to Daryl. Especially when Clementine wasn’t feeling the greatest. Rick wondered if Daryl was even aware of what he was doing though.

“This group…” Rick straightened up and moved over to Clementine, crouching down in front of her. “Will they attack?”

Frowning, Clementine remained quiet but, avoiding eye contact, she nodded her head yes in reply.

“So we go in from the back,” Rick decided, glancing over his shoulder to Hershel. “It’s a day’s car ride away from here…” He sighed. Again, more questions were raised. This Ylva person had gone so far just to get to Clementine… to get her back… Why? “Clementine…” Rick took another pause as he pondered over how he should approach this. “I… We are really grateful that you’ve told us somethin’ ‘bout them. Truly we are. But we gotta know why they want you back.”

“I was a worker,” Clementine quietly admitted. “They just want me back.”

“A worker?” Rick asked. The entire group was watching intensely now, curious and worried for what more information Clementine might reveal.

A nod from the girl and an uncomfortable shift in her seat was all Rick got for a while. Then, a quiet whisper added: “They lure you in. Then threaten you. And then you work for them to stay safe. To be protected by them. But you’re not really safe. Not really…”

She shook her head and quietened down again. Her gaze, all the time as she spoke, had been glued to a spot on the floor. Rick tried to move his head so he was in her line of sight, but she only shifted her gaze away no matter what he attempted.

Rick knew what that meant. He had interviewed enough civilians to understand their body language. She was done, clammed up and not open to speaking about it anymore.

So he let her be.

But there was more to this story. From what Clementine told him, there was no reason for her to keep this information from them. She hadn’t done anything wrong. So why was she exhibiting all the telltales of a person riddled with guilt?

“What are you going to do?” Clementine quietly asked, finally looking up at him.

“We will have a chat, if we can. And make sure they leave you the hell alone.” Rick said this with confidence. If a chat couldn’t be had, there were other ways to make it clear Clementine was off limits now. That’s why he was planning on bringing Daryl, the overprotective one.

“It’s just three of them,” Clementine admitted. “Please don’t hurt the others.”

“He won’t,” Beth was quick to say, stepping forwards. Her eyes, pleadingly, glanced to Rick’s crouched form. “You won’t, right?”

A tension arose in the group. Something unsaid lurked in everyone’s minds, whether it was the same subconscious thought, the same moment of doubt, that passed through everyone’s minds was uncertain… but it was clear each and every member had experienced a moment that had made them question Rick’s ability to be calm, collected… and a good guy.

It was clear that no one knew what Rick’s intentions were anymore.

“We won’t,” Rick said with a smile, pretending the tension in the group wasn’t present. “We’re the good guys, Clem.”

A lie. Almost everyone thought it.

Except for Clementine, who smiled. Her innocence meant blind faith in people who had yet to prove their mettle in actions. It was an innocence Rick wanted to protect. He wasn’t a bad guy. But bad things had happened, and he didn’t blame anyone for doubting him.

“We take Hershel’s route, then circle around the back and find a way in. Glenn, Daryl, Merle-“ Rick paused to give Glenn a pointed look when he started complaining he didn’t want Merle on the team. “Merle, stay here.” With a roll of his eyes, Merle quietly agreed. “Glenn and Daryl’ll come with me. The rest of you… stay on your guards. Keep an eye on the forest. Don’t let no one get too close.”

Everyone nodded their heads.

Ignoring his breakfast, Rick went to collect the map and go get ready. But he was stopped by Hershel’s words: “Rick? We can’t handle two groups. We can barely handle the Governor as it is. You hear me?”

Despite most likely not being on the side of murdering the lot of them, which Rick honestly wasn’t a fan of either but leaned more toward nowadays, Hershel’s pointed look and heavy words got through to Rick. A nod passed between the two men. Hershel was asking Rick to keep his daughters safe. And Rick would do that, no matter the cost. No matter what he might have to ask of his people… no matter what he might have to lie about.

“I’m coming with.” Another thing to stop Rick from going to get ready was Clementine’s words.

Everyone in the group turned to look at her.

Carl stepped up too: “Me too.” Clem and Carl shared a look, then a little smile.

“No.” Rick pointed at Carl. That was an easy ‘no’. That was his son. A son who was also still a child. “You stay here, and you keep an eye on the group.” The smiles disappeared.

Merle scoffed at those words, but rose his hands in defeat at Daryl’s glare. A part of Carl’s attitude showed he too wanted to scoff and have a rude reaction at his father’s words, but instead all he did was glare relentlessly.

With a sigh, Rick tried not to take the glares to heart. “Keep an eye on your sister.” Those words worked better, and Carl looked away, defeated.

“You can’t let her go,” Hershel voiced once Rick hadn’t replied to Clementine’s plea. 

“I can take care of myself.” Clementine, trying to make a point of that, took out her gun and curled her lips into what she hoped to be a menacing frown.

Truthfully, she probably could take care of herself. But it was too dangerous, and there were too many things that could scare her into freezing rather than fighting… She’d had close to no practice so far…

“I have no doubt of that, but you cannot be going out there. It’s too risky. These people want you back. They might go to extremes,” Hershel reasoned.

“I agree, you shouldn’t go Clem,” Carol voiced.

There were a few more nods from others. But, Clementine stayed firm in her intentions. “I can do it.”

Her determination, and the lack of a parental figure to simply tell her no as with Rick and Carl, made the group slowly turn their gazes… to Daryl instead; awaiting his verdict, like a friend asking another friend’s parents for permission. Daryl watched the group in confusion for a while… until it clicked.

“The hell ya’ll lookin’ at me for. I ain’t her dad.” Daryl looked down at Clementine, who still remained looking back at the people with a determined face - a face he would have given himself at her age, hence his response: “If she says she can handle herself, she can.” 

“You wanna take a child with us on this mission? We…” Rick quietened down, and instead tried to voice the ‘we might kill people’ through a look.

Daryl understood. But, he was still determined just like Clementine. “They’re her people.”

“Not my people,” Clementine defended quickly, earning a soft, apologetic, look from Daryl. “But… I had friends.”

“She’s not coming,” Glenn piped up, not believing what he was hearing, Maggie nodding in agreement with him.

“No, she’s not.” Rick’s words came out harshly. It brought a pause to everyone in the group, and made Daryl lower his gaze in defeat too.

Merle and Michonne watched curiously.

When Clementine pulled at his pant leg for further help, Daryl simply shook his head.

Shoulders slumping, Clementine let the group disperse with Rick’s decision being the final one.

Clementine would stay behind. Again.

Every time Clementine stayed behind, things went wrong. She hated it.

Sensing her displeasure, Daryl crouched beside her. “There’s a lot of bad people out there. When I get back, yah show me what yeh can do with that gun, and we will have a reason you can come with next time.”

“Really?”

Daryl, the one who had been given his first gun at age seven, the one who had shot his first deer a few months later and skinned it with his own knife which he had gotten a few birthdays earlier…? Yeah, he was bound to agree children could do more than Rick thought.

Clementine beamed at the trust Daryl was showing her, lighting up like a little sun in front of him.

“Thank you!”

Daryl nodded his head awkwardly, not sure how to handle such happy emotions from another. Instead, he patted her head. “Don’t do nothin’ stupid while I’m gone.”

“Never.”

…

Daryl had learned a long time ago, before the apocalypse even happened, that it was important to always have a backpack ready for when you needed to get away quickly. So, he had a backpack all ready with clothes, weapons, food and water. It was easy for him to be ready ASAP for this mission.

He stored it in his assigned cell. That cell was only really used it to get away from people, storing stuff, and sometimes for exercising. He slept out on the catwalk to keep an eye on the others, and to make sure that he wasn’t attached to any one place.

If he got attached to a place, he would make it his home. And if he made something his home… he could get hurt when he inevitably lost it. That was, unfortunately, not something the apocalypse had taught him, but his past life.

Despite being prepared with a bag, he still fumbled around a bit trying to find the last of his arrows. Lifting his mattress, Daryl realised that it was missing - there was no way that arrow had managed to get under his bed. He kept his arrows all neatly stacked and ready if something were to happen…

Strange…

In his momentary distracted state, Merle had managed to sneak up on him, placing himself leaned against the cell’s frame. “You really goin’?”

Daryl turned to glance at Merle. “Rick needs me to.”

“So?”

Merle truly enjoyed prodding at the friendships that had stirred between Daryl and the man who had left Merle on a roof to die. There was amusement present each time he poked around, prodded or made fun of it. There was also mocking. And potentially a bit of harmful protectiveness…

“It’s for the girl.” The words slipped out before Daryl could stop them. They were truthful, and perhaps the only motivation outside of helping Rick that Daryl had as of late (or rather, a better motivation than doing something for Rick… since Rick’s mental break, it was harder and harder to support their leader’s choices), but… they were not the right words to say to Merle.

Yet, his older brother stayed quiet for longer than Daryl had thought. There was a look of disbelief in the man’s eyes, but Daryl could have sworn it was not disgust toward Daryl’s strange parental nature, but… something else.

And then the depth of emotions in Merle’s eyes were all gone again when he scoffed and spat on the floor. “Man, what a wheepy bunch of losers ya’ll are. It’s a girl. She gotta learn to fend for ‘erself and go out there on her own! Why’d you all gotta get dragged into this? The Governor is out there, and our best fighters are leaving on a girl’s quest! Trust me, the Governor is more harmful than some bitches out in the forest!” Merle scoffed again. “Sit it out, brother. Stay here, defend the place from the Governor and you’ll probably do more good for her than anything else yeh do.”

“Those people could be a threat too. Like that woman out in the forest.”

“That was one woman. If that’s the best they can throw at us, we’re fine.”

“We gotta check it out ‘n make sure,” Daryl pointed out.

Merle rolled his eyes. “That’s not why you’re going. You’re going because you think letting some kid run all over you is parenting.” Part of what Merle said surprised Daryl. It sounded almost, although it was impossible Merle would, like Merle had accepted Clementine was slowly weaving a braid of parental protection within Daryl’s chest. “If ya let yerself be affected by the kid, yeh let yer guard down. Kids don’t do nothin’ but take and steal yo’ money, and leave yah without yeh freedom. Screw her. Stay here with me, brother.”

“Man to hell with all that crap! That’s dad speaking, not you!” Daryl had no idea where the emotions were coming from. Maybe it was partly the entire group looking to Daryl to stop Clementine from making bad choices, like he was her dad or something. Maybe it was partly because Daryl knew he’d be a shit father. And maybe it was partly… because he wanted to be a father, but never thought he’d be allowed to.

Or maybe it was just the stress of not finding that one arrow - who knew? Daryl surely didn’t.

“She might not have been with us for long, but that don’t make her any less part of the group. Part of the family.” Merle bit down a reply at that, and glared at Daryl. That was enough for Daryl to understand what his brother meant though. “Family don’t end in blood. This group is a family. We help. We protect. That’s what families do. They don’t screw each other over at every turn they get, and then expect forgiveness and loyalty just cause some jackass came in a woman and created both o’ us.”

“Watch your tongue, boy,” Merle attempted, but Daryl didn’t back off.

Instead, he moved in closer to breach his brother’s personal space, turning his head threateningly before continuing: “Kids are meant to be ungrateful, take yer food and money and leave yeh heartbroken. That’s when yeh know you’ve done a good job in preparing them for a world on their own, ‘cause they’ll have left yah and become people.” He paused to breathe and take in his brother’s reactions. Merle was staring with eyes that held emotions but a face that was as emotionless and strong as steel as possible; contorting everything into anger had been taught to him instead of learning to cope. Daryl wasn’t sure if he was getting through to his brother… or if that was even possible, so he tried one more time: “Punching kids just cause they grow to be someone independent… just cause they got needs, want some food, some attention… That what you’d call fatherhood?”

“Nah man I just-“

“You just nothin’. I don’t care if this hurts me. This is for a kid. For the group. And I ain’t need no thanks.”

With that, Daryl shut up and moved away from his brother.

“You’ve changed, little brother. And I don’t mean since I left, I mean in the past week or so.” Merle’s voice was not angry, it was not provocative. It was strangely quiet too. “You’re gonna get yourself killed if you keep going this way.”

“I won’t. ‘Cause I’ll have ‘em.”

“Will you?” Merle’s anger flared up again. It wasn’t at Daryl though. “Will you!? You think they will keep accepting you? Them kinds of people never accept us. Ever. Relying on ‘em ain’t good. You gotta be with me. Be with blood. It’s always been like this. People will never accept us, man!” Toward the end, Merle had begun to scream. But for some reason, he stopped himself there… and with a little sigh, he lowered his voice to continue. “She’s fucking great, alrigh’?” To say that those words shocked Daryl would be an understatement. “She’s a damn good kid and a good shot. But you gotta be smart ‘bout this. Second that girl stops wanting yeh as someone to take over after that Lee fellah, yer expandable again.”

“Nah…” Daryl said, trying to shake the words off by shaking his head, and turning away from Merle to grab his bag.

Maybe he ought to push her onto Glenn and Maggie instead.

“Ain’t that what always happened, little brother? Yeh got used and then when someone better came along, yeh were nothing.”

There was no answer. The words had clearly gotten through to Daryl, touching upon the anxiety of loving only to be let down: a vicious cycle that occurred in their childhood home, and a cycle Merle was well aware of had left Daryl emotionally broken. And so Merle victoriously stepped back and let his baby brother pass him by.

Trying to stand by what he had said earlier, Daryl opted for some last words before passing him by: “Kids are meant to leave yah.”

Despite having clearly won that argument, Merle felt his victory didn’t last long, a strange sensation creeping up his spine instead.

His smirk faded.

“So you her dad now?” Merle called after Daryl, who did not stop walking… but who definitely tensed up at the question.

Making Daryl feel worse didn’t make Merle feel better. Annoyed, he punched the wall and walked off in search of something to get high on…

if you enjoy my writing, please also consider supporting by reblogging or leaving a comment <;3

my carrd

[commonguttersnipe]

Baggy Trousers Down Python Road: Chapter Five- If I Said You Had A Beautiful Body, Would You Hold It Against Me?

Warnings: Swearing, internalised homophobia and things get a bit spicy at the end (ooh!)

Strings of pink and red were scattered over the school hall; the curtains drawn and the lights as bright as they could be without turning on the floods. Valentine’s Day had arrived at MacNaughton’s and much like every other holiday, it would be celebrated as prudishly as possible. The students arrived in their bundles, their voices bouncing off the walls like hoards of bumblebees. The faculty stood ready and waiting to stop any lip-locking or necking that would inevitably occur.

~

It started with the spiked punch. Once weak and watery, it had been contaminated with the cheapest liquor Bert Nudge could find. It went undetected for around 20 minutes until the year 8s started dropping like flies. Miss Weston was the first on the scene, tending to the bruised head of Reg, who was still drinking the potentially lethal liquid.

Judith sat with Brian outside the hall, raising a half-full bottle of water to his lips, encouraging him to sip. Brian had taken a good swig of the stuff and was now clutching his stomach in very well-hidden agony.

“You silly sod…” Her soft Welsh accent acted as a plaster to Brian’s troubled tummy “What on Earth did you do that for?”

“I didn’t know it was spiked!” Brian whinged, as the punch bowl was hurriedly carried out of the room by a panicked-looking Mr Palin.

“I’d hate it if something horrible happened to you…” She pats his head, becoming increasingly aware of the leaking water seeping into her sparkly dress. That didn’t matter. All that her world currently revolved around was Brian, who was resting against her shoulder. “I love you too much for something horrible to happen to you” The sentence dripped out like drool, prompting a messy reaction.

It didn’t receive one though.

In fact, it was met with no words at all. Just a gentle kiss on the shoulder was all it took to tell her that it was very much appreciated. It was perhaps for the best that she didn’t tongue Brian’s vomit-lined mouth. She mentally snapped her fingers and dug the minty gum deeper into her pocket.

~

Far across the floor, Miss Weston and Mr Gilliam were whispering about their suspicions. The redhead had her notebook out, evidently overjoyed her Agatha Christie phase when she was fourteen was finally going to pay off, while the long-haired man was intent on condemning the entirety of the Year 7s (no one was going to object, everyone despised the naïve little assholes). After an almost thorough list of attendees had been scrutinized, the pair had their leads… everyone.

What had started as a quiet investigation had become a bloody McCarthy trial, a Watney’s red scare if you will. No one was safe. Fergus McTeagle was intimidated by Byron, Rita Fayworth was frightened with Brigadoon as the school’s end-of-year musical and little Gale A’ Had burst into tears after being threatened with an invitation to the girl’s tennis match (the mere mention of the short skirts gave him a nosebleed).

Despite their drilling, it seemed to be all for nought. No one confessed. They considered recruiting Elliot Ximenez to help with their inquiries but he was on the other end of some rather sinful fellatio from Jean Sydney on the tennis courts. Providing it wasn’t in front of the younger years, Mr Gilliam let it slide.

Halfway through the dance, Miss Weston sat on the foyer stairs, her notebook covered in inexplicable scribbles and conspiracies.

“How difficult can it be? One of those little bastards did it” Mr Gilliam sighed.

Mr Idle came waltzing through, licking off the sugar on his fingers from leftover, stale doughnuts. He looked at the pair in smug amusement.

“What are you two gits looking so miserable about?” He asked with his signature rat-like grin.

“We’ve been looking for the punch culprit. You have been paying attention right? Or have you been ignoring the bunch of sick kiddos to stuff your face?” Mr Gilliam looked down at his investigation partner. She looked rather pretty when she was one step away from strangling the next human being she came into contact with.

Fighting back to ignore his colleague’s atrocious grammar, the long-haired music teacher scoffed.

“It was Nudge”

The couple looked up.

Of course, it was.

“Drank half of the slop, then puked on John” He smirked when mentioning his co-worker’s unfortunate accident.

“Admitted mid-barf”

Miss Weston looked at her list again, finding Bert’s name right at the top.

Hidden in plain fucking sight.

Mr Idle shrugged and left them, probably to see if there were any leftover pastries to gobble.

The duo sat there, the muted screams and surf-rock becoming the backing music for their failure. Brown eyes met green as they took the courage to look at each other.

“So… I have some coffee in my apartment and-”

“Sounds good.” Miss Weston nodded. Dates that came from humiliation would be the cherry on top of a pathetic evening, but honestly, if it meant that something could bloom from a disaster, she’d take that chance. All art started like that, after all.

Halfway to his boarding, it came to Miss Weston’s attention that she’d actually been neglecting the punch’s victims during their disorganized investigation. Miss Gullet had it under control… surely?

~

She did. Surrounded by paper towels and the vile stench of sandwich spread, she and Mr Palin had become the accidental heroes of the night.

Much like their relationship, she’d taken control, directing the students in her efficient pop-up hospital amongst the skipping ropes and gym mats.

Mr Palin looked upon his wife with an infatuated gaze. Sure, she saw him as an idiot, but he was her idiot, and no finer title could have been bestowed upon him. Knighthoods paled in comparison.

Taking her maiden name was necessary for work, but the lovers were so obviously married from day one, that she almost got fired on her first day. A Shakespearean ramble from Palin, got her to stay and ever since then, the power couple had become McNaughton’s official moral support.

Pupils had become so used to their Geography teacher writing on the blackboard while also feeding his baby son mashed peas, the infant had become almost a mascot for the department.

Nevertheless, seeing her here, the gentle lighting caressing her face like his fingers made him feel like he was 16 again. The shy church boy meeting the tall, cheeky girl of his dreams on some beach that felt like continents away from Sheffield.

He’d say that it was times like this, but this was every day for him. So inevitably tangled in the roots of devotion, any action she did felt like a kiss after being parted for months.

Intertwined in love’s desperate grasp with her, felt like the Eden he’d been promised as a child.

“Michael?” She swept her fringe from her eyes “Would you be a darling and pass that tissue?”

He complied. After all, he was her darling.

~

Tommy didn’t like dancing. It was poofy and he was no poof.

Mary always assumed he didn’t like dancing because he was one.

Standing on the rim of the dancefloor, as if he were to be consumed by effeminate waves, the serious boy watched his girlfriend spin with Jocasta, laughing loudly and squealing louder. Mary was a pretty girl, everyone thought so… except for Tommy.

Homosexuality crossed his mind often. Sweaty, half-naked Rock Hudson plagued his consciousness the first time he’d kissed Mary, though that may have been the residue from a late-night watch of Send Me No Flowers. It had to be. He wanted it to be.

“Come on Tommy! Daniel says they’re playing Windy next!”

He shakes his head. A look of disappointment crossed her face before being brushed away with a rogue curl. She appeared purple in the blue lighting. Lavender, even.

Lavender. As in a gay man.

Tommy felt non-existent sweat drip down his forehead as his world became lavender, glowing with anger like an inculpatory finger.

Mary’s world was in shades of neon, everything shining with the veracity that there was always tomorrow. The only grey was Tommy. However, she knew he needed her to feel normal.

If her heart had its way, she’d encourage him to be happy with himself, but her head reasoned that coming to terms with himself would slowly destroy him and what he thought he’d worked for.

Being in Daniel’s arms felt right. Warm with the ease of accepting his masculinity, it was the fire her heart had hoped Tommy would light. By the way, her boyfriend was looking at her, he seemed nonchalant about her dancing with another boy… and that made her feel sick with guilt. Daniel nuzzled his head into her neck, his soft nips earning gentle whines.

Tommy’s world was now turning blue.

Stormy blue.

~

Ernie couldn’t believe what Jim just said.

“But she’s your girl! I- I-”

“Yeah, and you're one minute away from your cock shrivelling into a raisin” Jim blew out his smoke into the cold air. “You know I’m not a jealous man”

“But coupling with your girlfriend-”

“Fucking. Use fucking, for fuck’s sake” Jim looked over at his friend. Ernie’s face had turned the shade of Aggie’s lipstick, which she was currently reapplying.

“Really, I’m happy to!” She confirmed her consent, smiling sweetly at him.

Jim stamped out his cigarette and groaned.

“Look. You’re my best friend Ernie and I’m not allowing you to be a virgin for the rest of the school year. You’re not saving for marriage and honestly, if Elliot can get pussy, so can you”.

Ernie scrunched his nose at his friend’s crudeness but couldn’t deny his desperation to be taken. One thing his friend didn’t know was that he loved Aggie. Surely he couldn’t be pity-fucked by a girl he loved. Then again…

Aggie had decided the shrubbery near the football pitch was an appropriate location, it not being under the cheery supervision of Mr Jones. Ernie felt his t-shirt stick to his chest as they made their way over to the foliage.

Noticing it had recently rained, she opted for the protection of a tree, pressing her back against the rough bark. Ernie licked his lips awkwardly.

“I- I don’t know what to do” He admitted.

Aggie smiled sympathetically.

“You do want this, right?”

“Yes. God please-” He blurted eagerly, making her laugh. Good. He liked it when she laughed.

“Why don’t you unbutton my shirt?”

Guiding his trembling hands to her cold blouse, she helped him with each pesky button, slowly revealing her goose-pimpled skin. Eventually, her plain white cotton bra came into view, her cleavage being teased through the thick fabric. Overwhelmed, Ernie leaned forward, pressing neat kisses against her neck, timidly cupping her chest with one hand.

“You needn’t be so polite” Her voice almost begged, secretly aching for him to make her forget her own name.

“I don’t want to hurt you”

“Don’t worry, I’ll say if you do” They looked into each other’s eyes, the consent and understanding feeling somehow erotic.

He nodded.

She closed her eyes as he unclipped her bra, sucking on the swell of her breast, grunts of pure worship rippling against her skin. Hungrily, he pushed up her skirt, squeezing her plump thighs as she almost feverishly unzipped his trousers.

“Ernie?” She whimpered, gazing up at the cloudless sky above them.

“Yes?” He moaned, his fingers skimming over her soaked panties as he buried his face in her bosom.

“Fuck me like the world is ending tomorrow”

He smirked. In a way it was, but then again, his world was clinging to him, wanting him to love her. The apocalypse could happen tomorrow but it wouldn’t matter.

Tonight happened.

[randomreadingtimewithtsuki]

First official imagine request: Could you write an imagine where Yuri and Estelle are some of the only ones who can tell when their S/O's are giving fake smiles? (Also,take your time with the request. I can wait)

Hello!

Thank you for requesting!

I hope this is of your liking!

Tsuki's note: I am terribly rusted on vesperia, hope this turned out decent? Also I just so happen to be great at faking smiles sometimes! Lets see how i rock ( rock bottom or sky rocket) this request!

----------------------------------------------

Yuri:

• Oh he can tell.

• Even before you give the :) smile, he knows it's coming.

• He knows because you stop for a second, a brief moment, like you are loading some game map and soon the smile is there.

• Now what he does about it depends on the situation.

• If it is a fake smile like " haha go away person please" He may interrupt the conversation and make the person stop talking to you.

• May physically get in between you.

• If it is a fake smile of " this is awkward " he may or may not do something. What I mean? Well it will depend on the person and topic. Yuri may find it amusing and just grin.

• Or he will sigh and change the topic so you can feel a little better.

• If it is a smile directed towards him or a topic that makes you upset, things get a little different.

• If someone else is bringing up the topic he will get protective of you.

• Sharp, sarcastic and mean words will come flying off of his mouth.

• It's clear to everyone that something bothered him, a lot. But he won't tell anyone about it, unless it's you.

• If the others don't notice your fake smile, they will find it odd how Yuri snapped like that.

• Even weirder that he keeps side eyeing you or just watching you.

• Asking you is a little pointless, as you probably wouldn't be able to tell what ticked him off - you might know, but you won't tell them either, mostly out of respect for Yuri, he is a reserved guy.

• Asking Yuri himself is a dead end. He will just brush it off.

• But he will tell you what bothered him and you bet he will look for you to have this chat in private.

• He will ask you if you are OK. If you are honest with him, he won't push the topic if you don't want to. Yuri will listen to you if you'd like to talk.

• He will worry a lot about you the next few days and pay extra attention so that person stays away from you.

• Boy is protective, he is willing to fight demons and move mountains for you.

• But! Remember I said if you were honest right? If you give him a fake smile, prepare for confrontation.

• He can tell you will fake smile right away and he will call you out on it.

• Asks why you are lying like that or just to cut out the bs - what he means is " you can trust me!"

• Being this straight forward doesn't always help. So when you fall silent and avert your gaze, he will sigh, scratch the back of his head and ask in a more calm tone if you'd like to talk.

• If you say yes, he will listen quietly to you. He won't press you if you take pauses, may try to Crack a joke or sassy comment to see if you smile a bit - genuine smile, that is.

• If you say no, then, he will pat you on the head and say you know where to find him if you need - aka: you can count on me!

• Regardless of your choice he will pay extra attention to your reactions to pinpoint what makes you fake smile.

• Yuri is honing his " predicting you" skills you know?

• After the events that led to that fake smile, he will definitely feel the urge to make you actually smile.

• So expect him making snarky comments about Raven or situations, so you Crack, at least, a tiny little smile or giggle.

• Once he get what he wants, he will grin proudfully and just watch you for a moment, with the softest smile and expression.

• Does Judith tease him ? Yes. He denies straight away and pouts. He doesn't know what she means by " you look like you have heart eyes". No, disgusting.

• To Yuri, your smile is worth a lot, more than anything in this world. So he won't settle for a little :), he wants to fight whatever makes you sad or uncomfortable.

• A beautiful smile like yours, should be hidden behind a mask of a smile, right?

Estelle

• She is not as good as Yuri when capturing flags of bs.

• but she is a sensitive person. She can tell you don't feel like yourself.

• If another person makes you fake smile, she will try her best to change the flow of the conversation.

• She will put a hand on your shoulder, as if to reassure you that she got you.

• Not gonna lie, she is a little distressed about your reaction. To her a fake smile means big discomfort, so she will try her best to understand!

• Will ask to talk to you privately and ask what is wrong.

• Estelle is a good listener and even though she doesn't know much about the world, you bet she will work extra hard to make you feel comfortable!

• So, there she goes to read books or ask the crew about advice on how to aid you.

• If you are not comfortable with the others knowing about it, she will try - the probability of failing is higher with Yuri or Raven or Judith- to keep it discreet and anonymous!

• Now if that smile is directed toward her, then she will be upset.

• Very very sad.

• She can recognize that little :) a mile away, since she also gave them.

• Estelle won't hesitate to ask you right away what's wrong. If you dodge the question, she will simply say " I know something is off, Y/N, you can tell me what's wrong"

• She has the softest voice and expression. If you are still silent she will grab your hands and tell you she will be by you no matter what.

• When you tell her what's wrong, she will listen carefully. Her eyebrows may furrow a bit too, which is quite cute!

• She is ready to give you a quick hug if the situation calls for it.

• If not, then she will grab your hands - or keep holding them - and shake them lightly while saying reassuring words and trying to mitigate what caused that fake smile.

• She will pull out a list of things you actually enjoy.

• Find your favourite snack, ask Judith or Yuri to cook your favourite dish, bring you to scenery you would love, bring you flowers of your favourite color, you name it!

• If you ask her why she is doing so, her answer is simple: " there are a lot of things to truly smile for in this world!"

• For Estelle seeing you regain your usual self is the most important thing. Seeing you carefree, laughing and smile genuinely is very lovely.

• So as soon as you give a smile to her, she will put her palms together and smile softly, a slightly blush on her cheeks.

• This little moment didn't go unnoticed, oh no.

• In her case Judith won't be as cruel, but Yuri will be teasing you both a lot giving ship names to you two and laugh when Estelle blush furiously and you get to upon and close your mouth like a fish.

Bonus: Thanking them

• If you thank Yuri for his effort he will blush, turn away from you and blabber something about you owning him.

• As soon as you turn your back, you bet he is looking at your frame with a soft expression again.

• In Estelles case, she will smile beautifully and say she is always right beside you!

• She will blush a bit and stutter, but she is so happy to be able to aid you, she won't even notice her awkwardness ( or yours. Who would go short circuit from seeing her all happy?)

----------------------------------------------

This is it!

I hope you have enjoyed!

Let me know what you think!

Thanks for reading !

[savedpeople]

❄️

Send ❄ for my muse’s reaction to you throwing a snowball at them. | Not Accepting | @mercyprevaild

Negan doesn’t plan on stopping by Rick’s place today, but while at the store he gets the inexplicable urge to text him and ask if he needs anything. He’s juggling a job and two kids, maybe he can save him a trip, right? Next thing he knows, he’s heading towards the Grimes household to drop off a few bags of groceries.

This guy must be really fucking special if he’s got him going out of his way like this.

(He is, in fact, very special.)

Negan doesn’t stay for long, having his own things to tend to back home, and he’s soon waving goodbyes, but only makes it halfway to his car when something hits his back. Turning around to the sound of Judith giggling, seeing Rick standing beside his snowy front yard with his daughter in one arm and wiping his other hand on his jeans, it doesn’t take long to figure out what’s happened.

“Now what was that?” Negan starts, a grin forming as he wipes snow from the back of his coat. He points a playfully accusatory finger to Judith. "Was that you, little missy?" When she responds with a happy, 'No-- daddy!' Negan can't help but laugh; she sold your ass out, Rick! "Yeah, bet it was daddy, wasn't it. You and your dad trying to team up on poor Negan? I see how it is."

It's then that he notices Carl lingering behind the front door. There's the tiniest amused smile on the kid's face -- probably from seeing Rick hit him with the snowball -- but it vanishes the moment the two of them make eye contact. Negan motions to him.

"Whataya say, kid? You, me, against your dad and baby sister. Think we can take 'em?" Negan snickers when Carl predictably rolls his eyes and disappears back into the house, and he bends down to reach into the snow. "Yeah, thought so."

It's about now that he wishes he put his gloves on, bare hands packing the ice-cold snow into a ball. Walking towards Rick, he notices the look in the man's eyes, the way he shifts Judith slightly on his hip, like he thinks Negan's really going to do it.

Once within reach, Negan grins wide and presses the snowball into Rick's shoulder, letting it crumble and smear against his shirt. "Thought I was gonna throw it at you, didn't you?" Chuckling, he takes a look at the bits of snow still clinging to his fingers, then at Judith, and playfully wipes a little against her cheek. "Got you, too!" Her little shiver and the giggled 'Knee-gun!' that follows as she palms at the snow on her face is enough to melt his damn heart.

"... I would have," Negan then continues, attention back to Rick, leaning in close, "if you didn't have this little angel attached to you. Would've been all out war." A small wet hand then finds Negan's cheek, pressing and smearing mostly-melted snow against a stubbled jawline. There's a still moment of silence except for Judith's innocent giggling, before the both of them can no longer hold it in and laugh as well.

"-- All right, I guess I better head out." His smile still warm once he's collected himself, he plants a quick, soft peck to Rick's lips. "Text you later?" And he takes Judith's hand in his, gently moving it from his face so he can press a kiss to the top of her head.

"Got me good, little lady." He can still feel the wet chill on his cheek, yet to wipe it off. "You really are your daddy's little angel, aren't you? Starting to think you might be mine, too." His face and voice are all adoration as he holds onto her little hand, just a moment longer. "See you soon, okay?"

[judediangelo75]

Bath Time

A/N: This is gonna be based on the years after Hogwarts, just a few months after graduation.

It’s also going to be based on the “Physical One-Liners”. I feel like in the privacy of their own space, Talbott turns a bit more... mischievous, which both surprises and flusters Judith to no ends.

If that’s not your cup of tea, don’t read. Just that simple. Anywho...

Enjoy!

------------

Judith never felt more happy to leave St. Mungos. While she did enjoy her job, and spending time with her long time friend Chiara, she was beyond exhausted. Not in the mood to walk home, the young woman decided to fly home instead.

Quickly ducking into a dark alley, she transformed into her Black Sparrowhawk and flew off. Flying has always been one of her small joys in life. It reminded her of the times with her father, where he would teach her the basics of flying. It also reminded her of her time at Hogwarts. Attending Flying Class with Madam Hooch and playing on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team.

Most of all, it reminded her of her long time boyfriend, Talbott Winger. He was the one who helped her become an Animagus and teach her how to fly in this form. It was one of the ways the two bonded.

After they graduated, they got a small apartment together. After Judith graduated, her mother promptly kicked her out. Talbott was boiling on his girlfriend’s behalf, but she urged him to let it go. Judith always knew she wasn’t wanted by her mother, so he spoke to Dumbledore about ways to support herself after. He offered to pay her during her last year, which helped out a lot.

Now she was free to live her life the way she saw fit. And be with the love of her life.

It wasn’t long until Judith landed in front of her home and she transformed back. Pulling out the key from her purse, she opened the door and walked in.

She was minorly surprised to find Talbott inside as well, who was just taking off his shoes and placing them near the front door.

“Hello, little bird,” he greeted with a small smile. Judith blushed and smiled back.

“Hello, my love,” she said back, walking up to him. She carefully got on her toes to give the young man a peck on the lips.

Well, it was suppose to be a peck on the lips.

Talbott ended up wrapping his arms around his girlfriend’s waist, pulling her to his chest. Craning his head a bit lower, he pressed his lips against hers more firmly. Judith let out small giggle and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Talbott groaned softly, gently pushing Judith against the door. A shudder wracked Judith’s body as she felt Talbott’s teeth softly sink into the plump flesh of her bottom lip. Her eyes shoot open when she felt his larger hands press into her lower back. Talbott released her lips, red eyes half lidded and a lazy smirk on his full lips.

“You seem a little tense darling,” Talbott drawled, running a hand up and down the length of Judith’s back. A blush blossomed on her face, causing his smirk to grew a fraction wider.

“It’s... uh, it’s been a long day,” she mumbled, finding Talbott’s chest suddenly interesting. A chuckle rumbled from the back of his throat.

“You don’t say? Come on, darling. Let’s take a nice bath together.” Judith’s breath hitched as her blush worsen. 

Talbott tried his best not to laugh at his little bird’s expression. Ever since they left Hogwarts and all the stressors behind, he’s been seeing a different side of Judith.

She was more free. Happier. Carefree.

He’s seen bits and pieces of this side of her at Hogwarts but not often. He found this side of her to be so beautiful...

And if he was being brutally honest... it was sexy as well.

The girl would be more free with what she wears and would sometimes sing and dance to the music she has playing as she cleans.

He has walked in a few times where Judith was slowly swaying her hips slowly to the beat of a song as she cleaned, wearing nothing but a tube top and some short shorts. It never fails to put him in a trance as he watched how Judith seems to become one with the music. Especially when she tranced the length of her body and curves with her hands. His body temperature never failed to spike at the sight she created. 

The only way he’s forced to snap out of his daze is when Judith finally acknowledges his presence with an embarrassed squeal.

However, last time was particularly bad. Talbott didn’t know what kind of magic Judith casted on herself for her to move her waist the way she did, but Talbott was sure it had to be from the Dark Arts. What she did should’ve been illegal. Talbott never stared harder at something in his life.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VdOFz0Lsfbo

Even after Judith after squealed out of surprise, it didn’t arouse him from his stupor. The only thing he could think of was how his pants was tighter in an area that where it shouldn’t be.

The fact that Judith starts blushing and acts shy is what baffles him the most. She was extremely witty, sharp tongued, sarcastic, sassy, and petty. Rarely anything can render her mute.

Yet Talbott staring at her with a glimmer of desire in his eyes does the job just fine.

Talbott found this to be amusing, sometimes going out his way to tease her on purpose.

Lingering touches on her neck, shoulders, waist, and hips.

Spending extra time around her neck. Kissing, gently biting, and licking the sensitive skin.

Whispering in her ear in his sleepy voice.

Picking her up so she’ll be forced to wrap her legs around his waist.

Heated snogging sessions.

Hell, sometimes he would pinch her ass when she least expects it. Her scandalized blush never fails to make him laugh.

Being in the privacy of their own space made he feel a bit more open to be a bit more intimate with his little bird.

And Talbott knew she secretly liked this side of him. Judith could easily tell him to stop anytime and Talbott would do so immediately. But she hasn’t. 

Talbott wanted to see what she would say to taking a bath together...

“A-A bath? T-t-together,” Judith stuttered. She wasn’t sure why this was sending her heart into a frenzy.

‘Of course you do. You’ll in a bathtub with your boyfriend. No clothes, just soap and water.’ Judith really hated it when her own thoughts sass her...

“Of course, little bird... is that okay, darling,” Talbott asked, kissing her cheek. Judith bit her lip.

“Yeah... it’s fine...”

------------------

Judith was already in the tub. She was quick set up the bath and pick a body wash (vanilla which is her favorite). Not wanting Talbott to surprise her by silently watching her, she quickly stripped and hopped right in. 

She purposely added a lot of the body wash so the bubbles can hide her body.

‘Why the hell am I so bloody nervous? It not like he hasn’t seen what I looked like half naked...’

‘Because you sitting in this tub bare ass, woman. Plus you know this tub was made to fit two people, you’ll be literally pressed against him. And you know good and damn well you’re sensitive to his touch.’

‘You know, when I asked this, I didn’t need the sassy answer. I didn’t ask for an answer at all.’

‘Cry me a river.’

“Well aren’t you eager to take a bath?” Judith snapped out of the mental argument with her subconscious to find Talbott towering over her in just towel.

Judith blushed, forcing her eyes on her boyfriend’s face and not his lean muscular body-

“I didn’t want the warm water to go to waste by waiting on you, bird boy,” she retorted. Talbott raised a brow, a teasing smirk on his.

“You know, you’re right. Scoot over for me, darling...” Judith did what she told, averting her gaze when she noticed Talbott’s hand moving to undo the knot of his towel.

She didn’t look back at him until he was submerged. She regretted doing so, seeing how his smirk widen.

“You’re so cute when you’re flustered,” he teased, kissing her cheek. She crossed her arms over her chest, doing her absolute best not to pout.

“I’m not flustered,” she mumbled under her breath. The devious spark flashed in Talbott’s eyes.

“Oh really?” Judith didn’t have time to respond as she pulled to sit on Talbott’s lap, facing him.

“How about now,” he asked innocently. Part of Judith was cursing Talbott seven ways til Sunday, the other part of her headed straight down the gutter.

“You are truly something, Winger,” she answered instead, glaring at him.

“I know, but you love me regardless,” he chuckled. 

“Shut up,” she mumbled, kissing him to do just that. Talbott accepted the kiss wholeheartedly, nipping his girlfriend’s lower lip. Despite the warm water lapping against her skin, Judith could still feel goosebumps breaking out on her skin.

Damn her sensitivity.

Judith quickly broke the kiss before it could turn into something more.

“Where are you going, little bird,” Talbott asked quietly, his voice low and husky. 

“We’re suppose to be taking a bath! Not fooling around in the tub,” she retorted, cheeks rosy. Talbott nuzzled her neck, leaving a feather light kiss. Judith was quick to grip his shoulders to steady herself.

“Mmmm... of course, darling. Don’t worry I’ll take care of you...” Judith felt her heartbeat pounding in her eardrums as Talbott reached for the wash cloth.

‘He’s gonna kill me,’ she thought when he could feel his smirk on her neck.

Let’s just say by the time they finished, the bath water was cold and Judith was sporting quite a few love bites on her neck, shoulders and chest... 

[strangerthingfanfic]

Chapter 2: Help

March 26, 2022

“And that’s when I went into a coma and woke up here,” Max said to the small group of people who had gathered to listen.

Daryl’s dog had laid next to her. She patted his back and tried to keep her cool.

She didn’t like speaking in front of people but she got through it and was proud of herself.

“My name is Aaron and Daryl is my husband and Gracie there is our daughter,” said one of the people who had come in. “You've been through a lot, how would you like some hot cocoa”?

Max nodded and replied “yes, please”. Aaron smiled warmly and headed to what must be the kitchen. Max kept feeling this strange sense of familiarity but tried to ignore it. She looked back at the two young girls who were still sitting and staring up at her.

“My name is Gracie and this is Judith” one of the girls finally said. “Nice to meet you both” Max said and sat down on the floor with them.

“What was it like meeting a real elf” Judith asked excitedly. “Well honestly I just spent a little time with her but she let off an aura of love and support so it was easy to trust her” Max said trying to remember the encounter. “My brother and mom like that stuff so they will be so excited to hear more about it” Judith said excitedly.

“Hopefully we can get you home so you can help your friends,” Gracie said as Aaron passed around cups of hot cocoa. Max nodded and sipped at the cocoa.

“This is the best cocoa I’ve ever tasted” Max exclaimed. “I make it from scratch, no powdered stuff here,” Aaron said beaming with pride. Max finished her drinking with two gulps which fascinated the two young girls and then turned her attention to Daryl and Aaron who were talking quietly to each other.

“Where did you say you found me?” Max asked questioningly to the two men. “I found you on a supply run Max. You were laying in a bed in an abandoned hospital. The thing is you couldn’t have been there for more than a couple of hours before I found you since your body was warm and you weren’t malnourished or anything” Aaron said looking worryingly at the girl.

“It was the elf lady. She said I needed to find help then I woke up here” Max said looking at the wall. Her head hurt and she felt so alone. Suddenly she felt a hand on her back. She looked over and there was Gracie with a warm smile and she said “we will get you home and help your friends”.

“You said you are from Hawkins huh?” Daryl said from his chair. “Yeah, Hawkins, Indiana” Max said softly. Daryl just grunted and turned his attention back to the fireplace. “Makes sense. My brother Merle and I were there in 84’ visiting my uncle, Jim Hopper. We heard he died in an explosion caused by Russians” Daryl continued with the same amount of non-interest in his voice.

“He didn’t die but was captured and taken to Russia. He managed to escape and make it back or at least that’s what I heard while comatose” Max said sadly.

Daryl huffed and said, “that town is a cesspool. I would rather be living in the world of the dead than in Hawkins. I knew that even when I was 14”.

Aaron looked angrily over at Daryl but knew how to get the final laugh. “Just so you know Daryl the cabin we are staying in had the name Hopper outside and the sign near the hospital I found young Max here said Hawkins, Indiana. I think we aren’t here by mistake. We are here to help Max and the people of Hawkins” Aaron said amused by the reaction that garnered from Daryl. Even Gracie and Judith had a good laugh when his face went pale and his grip on the chair tightened so much you could see the veins in his hands.

Aaron went over and started to massage Daryl’s shoulders when the door to the cabin opened making everyone jump. Once everyone settled down Aaron introduced the new comers to Max.

“Max this is Rick Grimes, his wife Michonne Grimes, and their sons RJ and Carl. You already know their daughter Judith. Also, that’s Negan and his wife Lucille and their daughter Lydia and last is Maggie and her son Hershel along with her father, Hershel Sr.”

Max waved shyly. Aaron caught the others up as Max looked around the cabin. Now she knew what the familiar feeling was. She was close to her family. She started recognizing little things like a hole where El had pushed the bookcase and El’s bedroom where they used to have sleepovers. She headed in and to her surprise the soda bottle they used was still under the bed.

She wiped the tears forming away quickly and headed back and with a resolve, she hadn't felt for a long time she announced “I know how to get us back and how to stop Vecna and possibly make it so the dead don't rise”.

Everyone looked at her. “How do you know about the dead,” Negan asked suspiciously keeping himself between the newcomer and Lydia. Lucille slapped the back of his head but with her new resolve, Max said “I saw it on a paper when I was sent here, and then Daryl mentioned it again so I just put the two together.

Seeing her strength and the resolve on her face the others nodded, finally Rick, broke the silence and asked: “How are we going to do that young lady”? Max smiled and said “let me explain”.

[twdeadfanfic]

Bonded to you Pt.4

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Chapter: 3/17

Words: 3683

Summary:  Daryl and reader had a something while they both stayed at the Sanctuary after the Saviours were defeated, a secret sort of relationship, that reader wanted to make something more. However, after Rick blows the bridge, Daryl leaves her without a word, unaware of her being pregnant with his child and it’s not after almost two years that Daryl finds out he has a child…and his anger at reader for not having told him before, rivals with reader’s anger at having being tossed aside as nothing by him those to years ago.

Dad Daryl, cute fluffy baby-toddler moments, angsty reader relationship.

You can find more chapters and  Daryl fics in my masterlist.

Last chapter, reader went looking for Daryl to try and make him come back and to tell him that she was pregnant but Daryl didn’t listen to her, just said that he wasn’t coming back and stormed away, and so reader, brokenhearted, decided against telling him about the pregnancy...

Note About this chapter: Certain events that happen earlier in the show timeline are going to happen in this chapter later in time, but I thought it worked good for the chapter, you’ll see what I’m talking about.

You ended up leaving Alexandria.

You didn’t know if you would feel less miserable anywhere else, you doubted it, but you could try. You knew that, once you would start to show and people found that you were pregnant, they would start to wonder about the father, and you didn’t want that. You also feared that Michonne might put two and two together after your breakdown in the woods when Daryl left, and you were sure she wouldn’t agree with you not telling Daryl about his baby, and you also feared that if she knew, she’d tell him herself.

So, you left.

You considered going to Hilltop, but you thought it’d be the same, too many people knew you. And so you ended up in Oceanside. You remembered that fight you had with Daryl, in which you told him that if he didn’t care about you and what you did, then you’d leave and go sunbathe in Oceanside…you might as well just live up to your word.

Michonne was confused about why you were leaving, but she seemed to think it had something to do with Daryl and his absence, which wasn’t far from the truth, and so she seemed to accept that you needed space and a new place and life. Siddiq was worried, but you didn’t let him talk you out of it, and you made him swear he wouldn’t tell anyone about your pregnancy. He was your doctor, and so he ought to keep your secret, whether he liked it or not.

You were apprehensive about going to stay at Oceanside, though, you couldn’t help it, but even though the women there seemed a bit confused, they all welcomed you. They seemed to think that you were mourning something, or someone, which was kind of true, and that you might need a change of air, and so they helped you adapt.

When they found that you were pregnant, you knew they had a thousand questions that they didn’t ask, letting you be, but you heard the rumors anyway. Some seemed to think that you had fled an abusive relationship, others thought that the baby father had died, while others thought you might be pregnant after a one-night thing, and others thought you might have wanted to have a kid on your own. You never said anything.

It wasn’t that bad of a life, though, you had been given a small, pretty cottage that faced the beautiful beach, and despite the gossip, the women were kind, and so even though your heart was broken and you were afraid of the future and what it might bring to you and the baby, you slowly began to adapt and get used to your new life at Oceanside.

Weeks passed, turning into months, and you wondered if you would ever stop feeling that pain in your heart that seemed to be always with you, that way in which you couldn’t stop missing Daryl, even though thinking about him and about his rejection hurt so much, even though that, as months passed, your sadness was also turning into bitterness, and you were not only sad but angry at Daryl too…which didn’t help you to forget and move on.

You couldn’t believe that you had ever cared for Daryl as you had done, that you had loved him as you did…only to have his indifference thrown to your face, only to have him leaving without a goodbye, to have him not even looking at you when you tried to talk to him.

Whenever you wondered if this was a mistake, if maybe you should have told Daryl about the baby, if maybe it wasn’t too late and you could try to find him and tell him that you were pregnant of him, no matter that you were scared of his reaction, you remembered the last time that you had seen him, how he had walked away from you without a word, without even a look…

No. You couldn’t deal with that, with his indifference and his resentment. You could raise the baby alone. You wanted Daryl out of your life. You needed it.

*

Things went a bit better after you had your baby, if only because you were enamored with her. You didn’t know how you could love someone so much already, but she was perfect, and thanks to her, your heart was full of love again, and your smile was back on your face. She had Daryl’s eyes, though, lovely and pretty, but a permanent reminder.

You would lie if you said that you didn’t miss him, that the way in which he’d left you and his indifference, after all that you both had shared, didn’t hurt anymore, because it did, you were bitter and angry, you still felt like you were having your heart ripped out of your chest when you thought about it, and you still cried more than you would want to.

But you had to move on and push through all that, if only for your baby.

You had word that Michonne had a baby too, and you were surprised, you hadn’t known she was pregnant, and your heart went to Rick, who had died without knowing he had a kid, and to Michonne, raising the baby alone, with Rick gone.

You wanted to go visit, but you didn’t want questions about your own baby, and you didn’t dare to travel with her so little.

It wasn’t until about a year and a half after you had your baby, that you went to visit Alexandria, Michonne and his baby, RJ, you had been told he was called. Some women from Oceanside were going to Alexandria for some trading, and so you decided to go with them in their cart to stay in Alexandria for a week or two, when Michonne told you that she’d be happy to have you, after all that time.

You traveled without any trouble, and you smiled when the cart crossed the gates of Alexandria and you saw Michonne and Aaron there waiting for you all. You waved at them and smiled at your baby, who seemed confused but excited, strapped to you with a slinger. “Hey!”

“Hi!” Michonne was smiling at you, but she looked at your baby in surprise.

“Hey! Y/N!” Aaron seemed surprised too, grinning at you and the kid. “Who’s this little lady here?”

“She’s Naia, she’s my kid.” You smiled, even though you were nervous at how they might react. They seemed even more surprised, looking from the little girl to you, and back at the baby.

“How have you ended up with a baby living in a place with only women?” Aaron seemed amused, smiling at your girl, who was frowning at him as if deciding if she liked him or not.

“Well, you know…sailors come sailors go…” You tried to joke without saying anything…yes, there were only women in Oceanside, but sometimes people from other communities came to trade, so you didn’t think it was impossible for you to have ended up pregnant…you rather had Michonne thinking that after Daryl, you had looked for comfort in someone else, and ended up pregnant in a one-night thing, that knowing that you had hidden his baby from Daryl. “Anyway, I’m dying to see Judith and Gracie, they must be so big, and to meet RJ!”

“You have come in the best moment,” Aaron said as he helped you with your bag. “A week ago we found a woman who happens to be Michonne’s friend, and she’s got a lot of kids with her, Naia is going to have so much fun with them.”

“A friend?” You looked at Michonne, surprised.

“Yes, she was my best friend when I was studying at the uni…I never thought I’d see her ever again!” Michonne explained, and you grinned, you couldn’t believe such a thing could happen.

“That’s so great! Good for you, you really deserve it!” You reached out to squeeze Michonne’s arm.

Later that day, you were with Michonne, introducing Naia and RJ, and playing with them. Naia hadn’t met other kids before, there weren’t any kids in Oceanside, and at first, Naia had seemed shy, but now she seemed to be getting along with RJ and you loved it. Of course, Rick’s and Daryl’s kids were bound to be good friends…that thought sent a bolt of pain to your heart, and you rushed to push it away. Naia was your kid, yours, that was.

“Y/N...I was wondering…” Michonne began and you didn’t like how it sounded. “About Naia’s father…”

“I don’t want to talk about him, or think about him.” You stopped her before she could say anything else. “He’s not in the picture, never was, and I’m okay with it, there was nothing between us two, just…well, just comfort when both of us needed it...” It wasn’t quite a lie, but it was not the truth. You hated to lie to Michonne to her face like that, you felt guilty, but you were sure if she knew who was Naia’s father, she’d go tell Daryl, and you couldn’t face him, you hadn’t changed your mind. Besides, Michonne could very well hate you for having kept Naia from his father, and from her, she was like her niece after all…no, you couldn’t deal with that either.

Michonne looked at you for a second and you fidgeted, anxiously, and feeling a bit like crying, but finally she nodded. “Okay.” You gave her a grateful, relieved smile, and she smiled back. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to Jocelyn.”

*

You had never seen so many kids together, and you loved it, they made Alexandria so vibrant and cheerful, playing, and laughing, everyone seemed in the best mood you had ever seen, and although you still felt guilty about having lied to Michonne and being keeping secret who was Naia’s father, you didn’t regret having gone to visit.

The first day, Naia had been shy at so many new people, but soon she began to warm up to them, especially to the kids, although the only one as young as her was RJ, but she still loved to be with them, laughing so much, seeming so happy, you thought your heart was going to melt looking at her.

However, when a week later some kids asked you to let Naia go to a sleepover at Jocelyn’s place with them, you were unsure. You had never been away from your girl, much less for a whole night, and the idea made you anxious, besides you thought Naia was still too little for that, but all the kids of Alexandria were going, even RJ, since Jocelyn and the teens said they’d look after the little ones and made sure they were alright. Jocelyn told you that after being raising Naia alone, you deserved a night of relax for yourself, you were still very unsure, but  after Jocelyn told you a million times that she’d make sure your girl was okay, and would bring her back to you if she seemed unhappy in a second, you ended up saying yes, and letting Naia go.

That evening, though, after dinner, once everything began to get dark, you started to question if it was a good idea, worried about your little girl. You had never been away from Naia, and the idea of her being away for the night was too scary. Even if she was enjoying herself, you missed her too much and you felt like crying, and so finally you decided to go bring her back.

You weren’t sure if the kids would be asleep already, but you went to Jocelyn’s place and knocked on the door, you’d take Naia with you whether she was asleep or not. Jocelyn opened, seeming confused to see you there, frowning at you.

“Y/N?”

“Hey…I’m so sorry to bother you, but…I just…I miss Naia too much,” you admitted. “And I don’t think I can take to be away from her for a whole night, so I wanted to take her back home.”

Jocelyn just looked at you for a few seconds but then she nodded and smiled. “Of course! Come in.”

You walked inside, wondering if the kids were asleep, since you didn’t hear anything, and you went to turn around and ask, but suddenly you felt a sharp pain in your head, and everything went black.

*

You woke up to voices calling your name, feeling a horrible pain in your head. You tried to open your eyes but everything was spinning, until you saw Aaron knelt down beside you.

“Y/N…Y/N…She’s alive! She’s waking up!” Aaron was saying and you thought you saw Michonne there too but everything was blurry and your head hurt like hell, pounding. “Someone call Siddiq!” You tried to move and groaned at the pain in your head, everything spinning again. “Take it easy…”

“I…I…” You babbled, trying to make sense of what was happening, trying to open your eyes again. “Naia…I was…she…” You tried to think, tried to make the world stop spinning. “Where is she…what’s happening?”

“Someone knocked you on the head, we thought you were dead,” Aaron explained. “Don’t move until Siddiq comes.”

“I was…I…Naia…Naia, I wanted to pick her up, she was…” Some things were coming back slowly. “She was with Jocelyn but I…I wanted…Naia, is she with Jocelyn?” Who was taking care of your baby if you were hurt…and, and why were you hurt? Aaron…did he say someone had knocked you…but, but it made no sense… You noticed Aaron looking at Michonne and shaking his head. “What? I don’t…we’re…there’s an attack? It’s someone else hurt? Just tell me where’s Naia…” Had someone managed to get into Alexandria? Were the kids okay? Was your baby okay? You still felt confused but you were panicking and you tried to move again, crying out in pain and almost passing out.

“Easy, Y/N,” Aaron hold you down again.

“Just tell me…” You whimpered, eyes closed, your head pounding so much you couldn’t open them.

“Jocelyn took the kids,” you heard Michonne’s voice.

“To a safe place?” Maybe Alexandria had really been attacked?

“No. We just got here and you were lying on the floor, bleeding, Jocelyn and all the kids were gone, the pantry is empty,” Michonne explained and you forced your eyes to open to look at her….what was she saying. “She took our supplies and our kids and left.”

“What? What?!” You could just blink at her, panic growing in your as the words began to make sense, despite the pain and your confusion. “You told me she was your best friend!” You yelled, and then groaned and closed your eyes in pain. “Told me to let Naia with her…to trust her…”

“She was my best friend!” Michonne yelled back. “I…she took Judith and RJ too!” She said, without yelling this time. “I’m going to look for them, I’ll bring them back.”

“Wait…” You opened your eyes but she was gone, as if you had lost consciousness for a minute. “Wait for me…” Your little girl…someone had taken her…someone…a friend…it couldn’t be true…maybe you were unconscious and dreaming? Maybe you had died from the blow? Was this hell, from not telling Daryl about Naia? “Wait for me…” You tried to get up and fall back again, groaning, everything getting dizzy.

“No, hey, Y/N…” Aaron tried to calm you down.

“How is she? Y/N, hey?” You heard Siddiq’s voice and opened your eyes to find him knelt down next to you with Aaron. “I’m going to take you to the infirmary, you’re going to be fine, okay?”

“Naia…” was the only thing you could murmur…where was your kid…

Siddiq helped you get up and you cried out, almost passing out again, but as you were carried to the infirmary, they didn’t allow you to pass out, not even when Siddiq stitched the wound in your head, it felt like it was on fire, kept hurting when he bandaged it, despite the painkillers. Siddiq explained that you had a concussion, but he promised you’d get better…you just wanted to know where was your baby girl…

“It’s going to be okay,” Siddiq kept trying to calm you down. “There’s people looking for the kids, they’ll find them, Michonne told Daryl too.”

“Daryl…” He…he didn’t even know….his kid, your kid…where was she, where was Naia…

“Yes, Daryl, you remember how good he’s at tracking yes? They’ll find them. Now you have to rest, okay?”

No…no…you couldn’t rest…you needed to find your baby girl…you felt you could barely move, though, your mind felt foggy, your head still felt like it was on fire…

It took you quite a few hours to feel better. The pain was still there, but your mind was becoming clearer, which just made you panic more. Jocelyn…she had betrayed Alexandria, she had taken your supplies and your kids and run away…she has taken your little girl…oh, you were so going to kill her…

You groaned as you tried to get up, head pounding again, and Siddiq rushed to stop you. “Y/N, take it easy…”

“No, I have to find Naia,” You struggled until you managed to sit up.

“There’s people on it,” Siddiq explained to you again. “They’ll bring them back. I know you want to be out there, but you can’t, not like this, okay?”

You felt tears in your eyes, but you nodded, you had the worst headache ever and the world spinning when you moved your head a bit too fast. You would be useless out there…Someone had taken your little girl and you couldn’t go find her, you were useless to her. What if Michonne couldn’t find her? What if it was too late?

You sobbed again, but you didn’t have to worry for long, because you heard a voice outside of the infirmary announcing that the lookouts had spotted Michonne, Aaron and Daryl coming back, the kids with them. You got up, ignoring the headache and Siddiq telling you be careful.

The sun outside the infirmary blinded you for a moment, making the headache worse, and once you could more or less see again you rushed to the gates in time to see them opening and the kids running to their parents, seeming okay. Naia, where was Naia… You closed your eyes tight at the bright light before you could open them again, and you saw Aaron holding Gracie tight, Michonne holding RJ with one arm and walking hand by hand with Judith.

Behind them, there was Daryl, and he was holding Naia, who seemed unharmed, and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of Naia in Daryl’s arms…her eyes were so much like his, more than you had realized. Was this…was this what you could have had, if yours and Daryl’s relationship had been something real?

There was no time to think about that, or never. Not point. And your baby girl needed you now.

“Naia!” You tried rushing to them, groaning as it made your head hurt like hell, everything turning blurry for a second, but the pain was forgotten when you opened your eyes and found Naia grinning at you, waving her arms in your direction.

“Momma!”

Daryl had seemed surprised to see you there, but when Naia began calling for you he stopped walking, looking from the girl to you wide-eyed. You ignored it, or tried to, even if you couldn’t look at him and your stomach knotted when you approached him. You reached out to pick Naia from Daryl’s arms and he allowed you to do so in stunned silence.

You wanted to rush back home before Daryl decided to say anything, though he seemed puzzled, but first you squeezed Naia to you, though you tried not to show how worried you had been, not wanting to scare her or worry her too, but a couple of tears escaped your eyes.

Naia pouted when she looked at the bandage on your head. “Hurt,” she babbled in her own way, that most times still only you could understand.

“I’m okay, sweetheart.” You smiled to her, you didn’t want to worry her, but she pouted again, booping your tear-stained cheek.

“Hurt.”

“No, honey, I’m crying because I’m happy to see you,” you kept trying to stop her from worrying. “Because I love you.”

Finally Naia stopped pouting, grinning and babbling her own way of saying “love you,” which just made you cry again, you couldn’t help it, and you squeezed her to you.

When you looked up from her, you saw Daryl was still there, looking at you both in silence. You didn’t know how he could still stir so many feelings in you, anger, bitterness, but also longing, sadness for what you had and lost, for what you thought you had and didn’t… You quickly turned around and walked away.

“Come on, sweetheart, let’s go home.”

“Y/N,” Siddiq stop you. “You should stay at the infirmary today, just in case.”

You let out a sigh…you didn’t want to worry Naia, but you knew Siddiq needed to make sure you were alright before letting you be alone when you had a concussion, and you didn’t want to have a seizure, pass out, or something worse in front of Naia, much less the two of you alone. “Okay, but only if Naia can stay.” It’d also give you an excuse to hide from Daryl, you guessed, until he left again.

“Of course she can,” Siddiq smiled at you both. “Come on.”

“Bye,” Naia waved at Daryl, making you feel all weird, and it seemed like he was about to say something, so you looked away from him and rushed to the infirmary before he could.

You should have never gone to Alexandria. Your baby had been kidnapped, and now Daryl knew she existed, though he didn’t know she was his…but he could put two and two together, and you did not want to deal with that.. You tried not to worry, but you could help it. You’d pack your things tomorrow and flee back to Oceanside again…

*

So...Daryl met his kid, knid of, even though he still doesn’t know she’s her kid...or does him?

I had the idea for this fic thinking how it’d be of Daryl’s kid where kidnapped by Jocelyn, and what if Daryl requed her without knowing she was hers. Fort that, I needed to push those events in time. I hope you don’t mind.

If you liked this and had a moment, please leave me a comment and let me know your thoughts about the chapter, I’d really appreciate it and I’d love to know your thoughts.

Thanks to everyone who liked, reblog and commented in last chapter, you all really encourage me to keep writin when it gets hard.

As always, excuse my englins since it’s not my first language.

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[justjessame]

A Little Ass and A Lotta Sass: Chapter 8: Decisions Made...Oh Dear God...

When the man you’re still trying to decide keeps popping up with more and more reasons, in his mind, for you to run away with him what do you do? I’m not sure what other people do, but me? I get more and more uncertain.

What if, like Judith and something new and shiny, Negan gets me back to the Sanctuary and suddenly he grows bored? What guarantee do I have that the chase isn’t what has his motor running at full throttle? And no, I don’t fucking care that there are no money back guarantees with relationships. I want more certainty, especially since, well the truth of it is I don’t trust his followers.

Somehow, I trust him and his bat naming insanity, far more than I do the roaches he surrounds himself with. I’ve noticed, while he visits, that some are very clearly loyal to him. Those people I may learn to trust, maybe. Then there are the others. Like the man who had taken Daryl’s clothes, bike, and crossbow. Do I really believe that a man punished with a hot iron to the face really calls it fair and square and suddenly becomes the perfect foot-soldier? No, no I don’t. And if I don’t trust him, then I know there are bound to be more just like him. Men and women who do what Negan says, strokes his enormous fucking ego, but behind his back where he can’t see? That’s where they plot.

I know that’s how people work. Hell, take a gander at Spencer and what happened to him. He wasn’t the first, and he won’t be the last that I encounter in this harsh new reality. The thought of dealing with a bunch of angry housewives, that would be sharing him with me-gag, and also the uncertainty of the disloyal was a hard pill to consider swallowing along with the fear that I was just the girl of the week.

The fourth visit was shorter than the last. I felt the sigh on his lips when he kissed me goodbye. And I wondered, if eventually he’d just fucking give up and never come back. I hate to admit it, but the thought of not seeing him again caused a flinch of pain run through my chest. A normal woman may have analyzed that reaction, but I’m fairly certain we all know how much of me is normal.

 While I killed time between this visit and the next, I caught Daryl still studying me. Fuck it, I thought, approaching Dad’s best friend. Let’s see what the quiet one thinks about the entire fucking situation.

“Hey.” I offered, sitting down on the lawn beside where he was tinkering with his bike. “You gonna tell me if you’ve figured out that puzzle you seem to be working on?”

I heard him grunt, but his face was currently buried in the metal he was working on. I waited. Daryl took his fucking time on everything, sometimes even his words. A couple minutes passed, and then he finally spoke. “You gonna do it?” He didn’t look at me, focusing on some part of the bike that I couldn’t name. “You gonna go with him?”

As if I needed that clarification. “Not sure.” I answered, wondering what Daryl’s opinion on the situation was. “You had to stay there, I have a feeling it isn’t Club Med.”

He snorted. “Yeah, ya could fucking say that.” He finally looked up and through the curtain of his bangs I saw his eyes were focused on me. “Figure your accommodations are bound to be better than mine were.”

“Yeah, but I’d still be a prisoner wouldn’t I?” That was a near fear that had popped up. If I left with him, if I agreed, would I ever get to leave and visit my family again? Would I get to see Judith grow up? See Carl finally become the man he was teasing about becoming? And watch Dad and Michonne grow into their relationship? And the others? Enid, Maggie, Sasha, Rosita...These people were all my family. Leaving them and never seeing them again was terrifying.

He shook his head as the pain of the mere thought of never seeing anyone again rushed through me. “Don’t think so.” He tossed the tool he’d been using into the box at his feet. Moving to sit next to me, he glanced over at my profile. “He don’t treat ya like he treats ‘em.” The wives, so Daryl had seen or met them. “Hell, they don’t wanna be there with him, not really. Just like the perks.” I nearly snorted, considering the perks of Negan I fucking enjoyed. “Can’t make up your mind for ya, Callie, but he’s fucking different with ya. Didn’t think your dad and Michonne knew what the fuck they were talkin’ about, until that mornin’.”

I looked down at my hand, it still bore the marks of the fork tines. “Yeah, that morning was a real eye opener, huh?”

He chuckled. “Thought he was gonna fuckin’ blow a gasket when you stabbed that fork into your hand. Shit, that would have been a good video to have on repeat.” I giggled at Daryl’s amusement. “Callie, I watched him burn a guy’s face with a hot iron, and not flinch at the screams. You stab yourself with a fork and he nearly fucking died.”

I bit my lip, Daryl wasn’t telling me this because he wanted me to go. He may see the upside of me going, but in the end, he knew it was entirely up to me. And knowing Daryl, he’d be just as ok if peace didn’t come and he could kill every last Savior up to and including Negan. Which is why I took his words as they were offered.

I sat next to him, thinking about what he’d told me. Wisdom, I suppose, since he’d actually been inside with Negan. Adding it to what Carl had told me about his own visit there, I watched the scene before me without seeing it. Thinking about what I could negotiate with Negan to make the entire idea more livable. And then I sat back and waited until he popped up for another visit.

He waited longer this time. A little over two weeks had passed. Two weeks for me to hammer out the details for my own piece of the pie that would make the whole fucking arrangement worthwhile. To both of us. At least I hoped it would.

I wasn’t paying attention to the rest of the world, not closely. So I barely noticed that Michonne kept giving me weird side eye looks. Very weird side eye looks. Before Negan showed up, she finally cornered me. And that’s when I realized that the asshole may have fucking called it on his last visit.

“Callie, when’s the last time you-” Michonne began, then stopped, took a breath and started again. “I noticed when I took out the trash yesterday that there weren’t any-” And another stop, and I swear I could feel the heat of her embarrassment.

The trash, empty of something that seemed to bother Michonne. Fuck. I closed my eyes. Ever hear that thing about women who live together having their cycles sync? Well, in a weird twist of fate, Michonne and I synced before meeting. And she usually took care of the trash during that week, because honestly listening to Carl bitch and moan about bloody anything was annoying as shit. I swallowed hard.

“I haven’t.” I opened my eyes to hers. “Not this month.” Then I shook it off. No fucking way. It was too soon, for one. And I doubted highly that I would know this early. Not fucking possible. “Stress.” I let out a swoosh of air in happiness and hope. “Has to be the stress of deciding. That totally throws off a period.” I nodded, convincing myself and hopefully Michonne.

“Are you sure?” She asked, watching my face so carefully that I swore she memorized all my fucking tells. “It only takes one time, you know.”

I nodded. I knew that. Every woman over the age of ten should know that. I also knew that there was no fucking way that God could possibly make that huge of a joke out of my situation. Nope, not fucking possible. “Of course I know that. It wasn’t long enough ago, Mich. I mean, what three weeks? Too fucking early to even think about that.”

I heard her clearing her throat, almost fighting a laugh. I looked at her and she smiled. “Actually, that’s precisely how long it may take to be sure.”

I felt my back press against the wall behind me. My head knocked against it as I smacked it back. No, that couldn’t be fucking right. I couldn’t possibly be. No. I refused to accept the idea of it. I shook my head and finally her laughter broke. I couldn’t even focus enough to glare at her. My stomach felt twisted with nerves. Fuck. Shit.

A few days later, there he was. Whistling up the steps to the front door of our house. I was sitting in the living room. Dad and Michonne were out on a run, hoping that they could find some kind of mattresses. Carl and Judith were playing upstairs and I was on the couch, trying without success to read a book. My mind was still whirling with the idea that I could possibly have a baby inside me. I heard the knock, and the whistling and nearly hid. Not now. Damn it. Not now.

He opened the front door, because of course he would, and strutted inside. Finding me on the couch, I heard him groan. “Damn, is it just me or do you get fucking hotter every goddamn time I see you?” The couch dipped as he sat down beside me. His hands, glove free, took the book from me and sat it on the table in front of me. “Gonna say hello to me, princess?”

I looked up at him and bit my lip. “Hey.” It was a weak greeting, even by most weak standards.

“Something wrong?” His brow was furrowed, looking at me with worry and a hint of fear. Of course he was thinking I was turning him and this asinine idea down.

I swallowed, my mouth felt like the fucking Sahara. “No, nothing’s wrong.” Except you may have fucking predicted the immediate future you weird fucking asshole. “I suppose you’re here to remind me of all the amazing reasons I should be upstairs packing so I can run off and join your harem?” My voice sounded off even to me. And he clearly noticed it.

“Callie, what the fuck is wrong?” His hands cupped my face, staring into my eyes with such intensity I wondered if he was trying to delve into my thoughts. “Tell me.”

I sighed. Fuck it. Why not? “Apparently,” I swallowed again, and realized I needed a drink. I stood up and he followed me to the kitchen where I got a glass of water. Drinking it, all of it, I finally continued. “Apparently, I’m late.” I felt the blush burn my face. Dear God, let the floor swallow me now.

“Late?” He stood back and studied me. “You’re late.” A nod and then that fucking smile. And the fucking dimples. “Shit. That’s either the funniest and best fucking news I’ve had in my fucking life, or the most fucking terrifying.” Ah, that’s why he wasn’t barking with glee. “A baby?” He moved closer, and cupped my chin in his hand to tilt my head up to look at him. “Our baby?”

“I haven’t confirmed it.” I said, sighing. “I haven’t really accepted the possibility.” I could see the hurt in his face. “We haven’t really come to terms with our situation, Negan. Adding a baby to the mix doesn’t exactly make it easier.” I felt his thumb grazing my lips. “I was actually hoping to sit down with you and talk about my stipulations, and then this.” I moved my face from his hands and glared at my flat stomach. Traitor body.

“Then let’s fucking hammer out the details, Callie. Any fucking thing to get you home with me.” He sat down at the dining room table and motioned for me to take a seat. “Tell me what you want. Let’s fucking negotiate.”

I rolled my eyes, clearly my default reaction to Negan. I sat down and reminded him that I could very well NOT be pregnant. So he shouldn’t let the possibility of a baby cloud our talk. He nodded his understanding and I began.

 It took around an hour for me to explain my wants, and especially my needs if I agreed to be with him. He listened, only asking a few questions to clarify things before letting me go on. Then it got down to the nitty gritty.

“OK.” He said, grinning at Carl when he came down with Judith for lunch. He watched as my brother threw together something to take back upstairs, waiting until they’d gone before continuing our discussion. “You want monogamy, visits with your family, and to get to choose the Saviors that guard you?” I nodded, figuring two out of three might be agreeable to him. “Done.” I felt my eyes go fucking wide. “What?” He asked, feigning an innocence he probably had never possessed. “I thought about what you’d said about the others, why do you fucking think I was gone so fucking long?” Huh, well look at that. ���I thought about it, and I discussed it with-” He stopped and flashed me a look. “Well, I got a little feedback from some people. They’ll be put back where they came from, be it their former men or wherever the fuck they crawled to me from.” I was reeling. It couldn’t really be this simple. Could it? “Besides, Callie, I fucking hate being there without you. It feels weird to be here with you, but if that had been a fucking stipulation, then I’d probably have figured out a fucking way to relocate my base here.”

I sat back in my chair. Fuck me. What the hell do women actually do with this type of power of men? Because honestly? I was fucking stumped. “So, I get everything?” I was so fucking confused that I almost started looking for that fucking fork again. “That I asked for, I mean.”

“You didn’t really ask for much.” He shrugged, looking supremely unconcerned. “No side pieces, easy, fuck the way we go together I don’t need other variety.” He smiled at me and I felt my heart lurch. “Visits with the family? Simple, I can’t fucking wait to see Rick’s face when you tell him about MY fucking bun inside your hot fucking oven.” I fought rolling my eyes at his certainty of my possible pregnancy and at his childish need to irritate Dad even now. “And as for choosing your own guards, fuck that’s the simplest. I won’t have you surrounded by any fucking one you don’t feel comfortable with. Period, done, finished.” He sat back looking pleased as fucking punch. “How long is packing gonna take?”

I laughed at him. Long and hard. Shit. “Dad and Michonne aren’t here. I can’t go until they get back, Negan. Even with visits, I want to say goodbye.” He huffed an annoyed sigh. “You know, you wouldn’t find it so unbearable here if you could spend the night in my bedroom, on an actual fucking bed.” He shot me a look. “Your fault, not mine, buddy.” I held my hands up, reminding him that in this instance, at least, I was the innocent party.

“How fucking long is Daddy going to fucking be away?” He was pouting, I fucking swear, he was pouting.

“No fucking idea.” I answered honestly. Runs were planned, of course, but who fucking really knew. Shit goes bad constantly. I stood up and walked to his seat. He pushed the chair back automatically and I sat down. “I could always keep you company until he gets back.” I offered into his jacket and I felt his entire body go stiff. “You know, out of the kindness of m-” I never finished my sentence, but that didn’t mean that I never finished.

[keeroo92]

Be My Nightmare Ch12

The Precipice

Warnings for rape/non-con, violence/murder and some steamy spice. Enjoy!

Word count - 3,923

~~~~Previous Chapter~~~~

________

The exhibit featured reproductions of some of his favorites. The Blinding of Samson, Saturn Devouring His Son, Judith Beheading Holofernes, and several others. He kept his head tilted low, avoiding the cameras entirely where he could as he made his way deeper into the museum. While the other pieces were sublime, he was here for one reason only.

The murderous artist hid his tattooed hands in his pockets as he entered the room of his target, a small alcove off the main hall of artwork. Not many of the visitors bothered to view this piece, since no well-known names were attached to its creation, and it didn’t merit a large viewing area. Security for it was abysmal, to boot. 

Still, he waited a few minutes to be sure he wouldn’t be disturbed. This was private, not for anyone else to witness. Even his friends remained silent as he approached the wall where the canvas hung, barely two inches to spare on either side.

It always stole his breath to see it. A field of flowers on a mountainside, crimson petals a blanket under the feet of those gathered there. The figures all faced slightly away, so just a profile was visible. The composition hinted at the unreachable, that this group was somehow separate from the viewer. That they existed somewhere most people would never reach.

He recognized two or three faces, but only one mattered to his twisted heart.

Nero.

His friend stood on the edge of the field, a forlorn look on his face as his crystal-blue eyes gazed at the sky. Seeing his face again, even just his own meager attempts to capture it, brought the familiar tightness to his chest and throat. He remembered every stroke of the paintbrush as he crafted his friend’s likeness. 

All for this pale imitation of his kindness...

A rhythmic click broke his thoughts; footsteps. Who could say whose feet they belonged to? He needed to conceal himself, now. Whoever dared to interrupt him would pay the price.

The artist dipped into the shadows, choosing the corner he deemed most likely to be ignored by anyone viewing the artwork. The blade in his pocket greeted his fingertips like a lover, the same blade he used to craft his latest work. It sent a thrilling pulse of adrenaline through him to imagine what he might create here, in the same halls that held such classic works. Perhaps they’d inspire him?

A slim figure entered the room as he raised the blade. Female, with a pleasing shape. Lovely hair, and-

Wait…

Is that…?

It couldn’t be you, what were the odds? In such a vast city, for you to wander across his path was something he never expected. He’d imagined a multitude of ways to draw you out, but for you to simply appear? 

Yet there was no mistaking that face, those pursed lips and furrowed brow. 

“In Memoriam…” you murmured. “Why does each face… that’s odd.” 

V smirked and slid to the next shadow. What an interesting day this was becoming. Perhaps he could accelerate his plans, take the next step today since fate brought you to him? One must never waste opportunity. He licked his lips and stepped closer, lurking behind you like a bodyguard. 

“Hello, Y/N…” he purred.

Your eyes widened as you turned to face him, lips parting in shock. He’d missed that, how expressive your face was. No matter how hard you tried to mask your feelings, he saw them all. If anything, it became easier each time he saw you.

“V? What the hell are you doing here?”

---Reader---

You’d almost forgotten how the murderous artist’s eyes gleamed, the way his lips curled when he was amused. How damned tall he was. The intricacy of his tattoos and the poise with which he carried himself.

What the fuck?! Is he trying to get caught?

“Now what kind of greeting is that? Come now, doctor. Show some courtesy.”

The madman stepped closer, tilting his head to stare down into your eyes. You’d never stood this close to him before, so close you smelled a hint of musk from his skin. It sent a rush of dizziness through you. You worked with killers on a regular basis, why did this one in particular cause such powerful reactions?

He took another step, now only inches away. Your heart pounded in your chest, for what reason you weren’t entirely sure. The whole situation made you want to run away, but equally powerful was the urge to stay and finally solve the puzzle of his mind.

Too close, he’s too close! I have to keep it professional.

You shuffled back, trying to establish a boundary between yourself and the obsidian-haired artist. As if he’d pay attention to such things. Maybe you should just run, leave all this behind and never look back. 

No. You needed to figure him out, you couldn’t bear the thought of walking away now.

“Am I frightening you, dear Y/N?”

He closed the gap. You stepped away again, only to find your spine pressed against the extravagantly paneled wall. No escape: he had you cornered. The only question was what he planned to do next.

A tattooed finger rose to stroke your cheekbone, leaving sparks of electricity behind. You licked your lips nervously, battling the urge to lean into his fingertips. It felt alarmingly good to be touched. Even by the hands of a killer.

Am I losing my mind?

“No,” you finally replied, but your voice shook. Damn traitorous vocal cords.

He smirked and dropped his hand to rest on your shoulder, running his palm down the length of your arm to seize your hand. Logic screamed at you to run, break free and get security, but what had logic gotten you? Suspended and alone, friendless and isolated. Maybe logic wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

Yep, I’m losing my mind.

“The truth is obvious in your eyes, my dear. Perhaps one day you’ll even be able to admit it to yourself,” he replied.

The heat of his body withdrew and your hand ached as he dropped it. Disappointment colored his piercing eyes and an apology crept up your throat, begging to be spoken. But why? What did you have to apologize for? You hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Seriously, though. What are you doing here?” you asked. A poorly disguised attempt to change the subject, but you honestly wanted an answer. 

He sighed and gazed at the strange painting, his face twisting into an expression you never expected to see. Guilt.

“I came to remember.”

You followed his eyes to find a white-haired figure in the painting. The very same one that reminded you of his unique style, something about the brush strokes…

No way...

“Did you paint this?”

A wry chuckle slipped from his lips. “Part of it, yes.”

And it’s called “In Memoriam”. Did he lose someone?

Of course. Grief was a powerful emotion, enough to break people or change them beyond recognition. You knew it well. The textbooks didn’t do it justice; the desperation and agony, the loneliness and fear that something would remind you of the loss and shatter you into a million pieces all over again, like taking a sledgehammer to a pane of glass. How every breath you took was one more the other person never would, and how much that hurt to know. Anything that eased the pain was a welcome refuge. 

The artist murmured a few words, so quietly you didn’t hear anything more than the rumble of his voice. In the next instant, you found yourself pinned once again, back against the wall and wrists held in an iron grip on either side. You twisted and writhed but he was too strong; you were helpless and vulnerable with no way out.

Well, almost.

“L- let go of me or I’ll scream!”

A single sentence, and the status quo flipped. No longer was he your patient, no longer were you the one with the power. In the facility, yes, but here? 

He can do whatever he wants to me and I can’t stop him. Shit…

A wicked grin split his face, taunting you with his enjoyment of your distress. He hummed and shifted to press his hips against your thigh, letting you feel the twitching length growing firmer by the second. 

“Why do you resist? What has your endless obedience brought you? Nothing but pain.”

You hissed as his hands twisted around your wrists. The automatic protestations died on your lips; how could you argue with the truth?

“Please, just let me go…” you murmured instead. 

The artist chuckled. “I think not. I’d much rather show you the alternative to your suffering, perhaps teach you to see through the lies of society.”

A quiet whisper echoed from the main hall, footsteps treading past the room you found yourself trapped in. For a moment you considered calling for help, but no sound escaped your lips. 

This can’t be happening…

“Let go, doctor. Surrender and be set free from all that holds you back,” he continued, rolling against you with a quiet groan.

Coils of warmth pooled in your belly at the sound, the first hints of need waking deep within. Your lips parted and heat gathered in your cheeks as he leaned closer, eyes glinting. Hot breath fanned your ear as his mouth neared your skin and a soft whimper slipped from your lips. Completely inappropriate, but how were you supposed to control hormonal responses? It simply couldn’t be done.

“Tell me, my dear. Why do you fear me?”

You thrashed your arms again in a useless gesture of rebellion. Whatever you were feeling, you knew it wasn’t fear. There was an edge of risk to it, a hint of vulnerability and danger, yet you were not afraid.

You were excited.

“I’m not scared of you,” you said. 

“Hmm… even after all I’ve done?” he purred.

More voices nearby reminded you of your precarious location. At any moment, another museum goer might wander in and discover the two of you. Or worse, security. You tried to break free again, but your efforts were in vain.

“Perhaps there’s hope for you yet,” he murmured, and then the murderer’s lips were on yours.

For a moment, you froze. How long had it been since you’d been kissed? Quite a while, but that was irrelevant. What was relevant was the texture of his mouth and the heat of his body, the sharp sound of your surprised inhale and the rough stubble scraping against your chin. 

Fuck! Oh, fuck!

Separating your biological desires from your logical ones was suddenly out of your capabilities. The flicker of heat in your core grew to a scorching inferno as he ran his tongue over your lip, demanding entrance you were powerless to deny. The sheer wrongness of your dancing mouths had your heart galloping and blood rushing in your ears. 

And damn, did he taste good.

The inner voice that guided your steps for years, the one that kept you in control and maintained the mask of normalcy, the force that insisted you could never show your true self…

That which once held such power over you, now seemed so frail and weak.

Playing by the rules and coloring inside the lines, what did it really get you? A job that bored you, false friends and the respect of fools. Nothing worthwhile or truly meaningful, a life devoid of joy and purpose.

Damnit, this wasn’t part of the plan! You were supposed to be whole by now, fixed and undamaged. It was the reason you studied for so many years, worked so hard and spent countless hours searching for new treatment methods. 

You were broken, but you could fix it.

Right?

You fixed murderers; your own life should have been easy. Yet it was the hardest case of all, and you were so tired of pretending. Enough of the lies, enough of the secrecy and hidden agenda. Enough blending in and trying to be like everyone else. 

Enough hiding, enough smiling at every face as if you gave a damn about them. Enough empty words and masked words. Enough doing what you were told, and enough ignoring what you wanted.

Enough.

---V---

That brief taste of your skin seemed so long ago. The palest reflection of everything hidden just below the surface. The full-bodied flavor of your mouth was infinitely more dazzling. 

As he’d requested, his friends were silent. This part was his alone, and they would not spoil it by breaking his concentration. No doubt they’d share their thoughts later on, but for now…

For now, he had you all to himself. The softness of your wrists in his grasp and the scent of your skin had him reeling, each caress of your tongue adding gasoline to the fire of his need. You were teetering on the edge of letting go, he could feel it. All you needed was the right push.

The artist ground against your thigh, easing the ache in his cock by a minuscule fraction. The answering whimper was a thing of beauty, especially when coupled with the twitch of your hips. Images from his fantasies flooded his mind, visions of all the ways you could satisfy him. Mouth and fingers and oh, the velveteen walls of your core…

No! Restrain yourself, she isn’t there yet!

He forced himself to break the kiss and rested his forehead on yours, sharing each panted breath. What a glorious expression you wore, glassy eyed and swollen lips parted. Yes, you were worth being patient and careful. No one else would do.

“You see, doctor? You see how I can set you free?”

The corners of your lips twitched into a sardonic smile. “You say you’ll set me free while you restrain me. You really are insane.”

She’s got a point, pal.

“Hush, Griffon! Not now.”

Despite the infuriating interruption, he couldn’t deny that the mouthy demon was right. His fingers opened, relaxing enough for you to at last break his hold if you desired. A risk, but a necessary one to gain your trust.

Indeed, you jerked away from his grip and glared at him, but he didn’t step back. Freedom wasn’t something he could truly give you.

You had to take it.

With a wicked grin he rolled his hips once again, bracing his arms on either side of you to support his weight. Your hair smelled so good, and just the right length for pulling…

“Fuck!” you whispered.

Then he stepped back, when your voice and body conveyed the need he’d drawn out. 

“You’re free, now. What will you do with it?”

Truly, you were a wonder. Only tiny changes revealed your thoughts; less attentive eyes might not have spotted the hesitation or the hunger in your gaze. Yet the conclusion was inevitable, and as he watched resolve harden those lovely eyes he couldn't help but grin.

“Fuck it,” you growled.

This time it was you who closed the gap, pulling his head down to meet your lips in a feverish kiss. Your hands pawed at his back, begging and pleading for more, and who would he be if he denied you now?

Tattooed fingers took hold of your ass and lifted. Lithe legs wrapped around his waist like a bear trap, forcing your core to meet his painfully hard cock. Sparks jumped from every nerve your hands caressed and flames devoured the last of his restraint as you mewled, tugging on his lip with your teeth.

The artist pinned you against the wall and brought one hand to your waist band. He didn’t hesitate and plunged his digits within, tracing the soft flesh hidden beneath. Positively divine, so soft and warm…

And wet…

He grinned and trailed kisses down your pulse, licking and suckling at the tender flesh as quiet moans spilled from your lips. A single fingernail scraped across your core, gathering the slick fluid as it traveled to the small nub of nerves nearby. 

“You see? You see what a delight it is to claim your freedom?”

“Fuck, please, just-“

He shattered your voice by pressing against your clit and rubbing. The lewd moan that rewarded him might become his favorite sound and he dragged his digit across again to hear it once more. 

Your small hands clawed at his back, hips rotating to rock against his hand. With his nose buried in the crux of your neck, he couldn’t see your face, but every stuttering breath you took guided his motion. A fine sheen of sweat broke out under his lips and he lapped at the salty fluid even as his hand drew more moisture from your body. 

Sinful noises filled the air, a symphony of pleasure his mind would play on repeat for days to come. He traced the silken flesh like it was the most precious canvas in the world, deliberately stroking and pressing into your most sensitive spots. 

“This is but a taste of what I can give you. Imagine it: total autonomy, each choice your own to make.”

“Ah-! Fuck, please!”

He hummed and sank his teeth into your shoulder, simultaneously burying two fingers in your wet heat with a lewd groan. Soon enough, it wouldn’t be just his fingers enjoying the welcoming tightness.

You scrabbled at his spine and keened his name, your legs pulling his hips closer on instinct alone. Obscene gasps and moans spilled form your lips as he curled his fingers and pistoned inside you. A tiny hint of copper leaked where his teeth cut your flesh, the perfect morsel for his depraved soul. 

“Ah-! Shit, I’m gonna-“

“That’s it, Y/N. Break your chains,” the artist hummed.

A final cry, the gentlest of flutters against his fingers. There it was, perfection in ecstasy. He lifted his head to watch your face, twisted in a mix of pleasure and pain.

He’d seen a face like that once before, the day his life changed forever. After the gunshots fell silent and blood soaked the auditorium floor. He was still trapped under Nero’s dead body, desperately trying to appear equally deceased.

A few feet away Becca lied on the floor, mascara-laden tears streaming from her eyes and terror painting her features. Drops of crimson splattered her cheeks. 

One of the shooters approached the poor girl and dragged her into position, splayed out across one of the larger patches of floor. Her blond hair reddened along with her face as the killer’s hands groped at her body. Her sobbing intensified and V’s heart clenched in sympathy.

I wish there was something I could do!

But to intervene would mean his death, of that he was certain. All he could do was bear witness. 

He watched in silence as the shooters took turns, each adding their own marks to her flesh. Not once did she beg for mercy, instead taking their abuse without a word. If only he were so strong…

The leader was last, identifiable by his swagger laden stride and massive weapon. He held the barrel to her neck and unzipped, gloved hands drawing out his hardened length. 

“Don’t worry, Becca. I know how to treat a lady,” the attacker growled.

Indeed, he took the time to guide her forcefully to bliss. His hands teased at her flesh and gently caressed the marks left by his comrades, praise and filthy phrases accompanying his touch. Even as choked sobs still leaked past her lips, moans and whimpers slowly mixed in. 

The artist’s heart broke for her. She was always kind to him, a vague sort of friendliness that was more than most bothered with. She didn’t deserve the cruelty she was receiving.

Nor did she deserve to have her body manipulated until a sharp cry broke through her tears. Only her face and part of her torso were visible, but it was enough. Her features twisted in ashamed pleasure, arms tightening as her spine arced off the bloody floor. Such a tortured expression, he’d never seen.

He closed his eyes, but there was no blocking the sound of the shot that claimed her life moments later.

---Reader---

“God damnit, V…”

Heartbeats after your peak, the artist’s face had lost all expression. He mumbled the same phrase over and over, in the grip of a powerful catatonic episode. Somehow, he didn’t drop you. Thank heavens for small mercies.

“Between two moments, bliss is ripe,” he murmured. Another small blessing – he didn’t shout.

Still. The longer he stayed like this, the more likely someone would wander across him.

And me…

With a few careful wiggles, you extricated yourself from his grasp to stand on the parquet flooring once more. The resistance he gave you was negligible; never had you seen him so helpless.

I could just… go.

He was a killer. He deserved justice, and all you had to do to make sure he got it was walk away. Leave him to his fate, abandon this strange man and let go of your fascination. After what happened, there was no chance he’d end up in your care again. You’d never have to see him for the rest of your life.

“Between two moments, bliss is ripe,” he repeated.

A sigh slipped from your pursed lips. There was still so much about him you didn’t know. To try to help him now would undoubtedly mean the end of your professional career, if it wasn’t beyond repair already. You knew where this road would lead; to death and blood.

But also to answers.

Is the cost too high? Is it worth it?

If only the court sent him somewhere else. Then, none of this would be an issue. The murderous artist would be someone else’s problem and you wouldn’t have to make such a ridiculous choice. Your life would still be on its planned trajectory.

Yet that life held little appeal, now. It was pointless to deny his madness, but equally so to deny the tornado he coaxed to life in your heart. Emotions more powerful than you’d ever experienced, not to mention what his lethal hands could do to your body. A single moment in his presence sparked more curiosity and unanswered questions than a year spent in solitude.

No. there’s no going back now.

With a muttered curse, you tugged his skull down to look at you. This was such a terrible idea. “V, I don’t know if you can hear me, but you can’t stay here.”

No response, as you’d expected. Plan B, then.

You took his hand and led him into the shadows, away from the beautifully painted canvas and bright display lights. It was fortunate he liked black, or the darkness wouldn’t hide him so well.

“Between two moments, bliss is ripe.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. C’mon, sit down.”

With a little prodding, he managed to take a seat on the floor. Time to get to work.

His glassy eyes refused to follow your finger, but his breathing sounded fine and there was no evidence of a seizure. Gentle taps resulted in appropriate twitches. Heartbeat normal. Physically, the man seemed completely fine.

Okay, all I have to do is wait and he should come out of it eventually.

Considering the last time he had one of these episodes, it lasted over an hour, you settled in beside him. Your jacket made a decent blanket and it was dark, hopefully enough to conceal you from prying eyes.

If it wasn’t, you knew you’d pay the price.

~~~~Next Chapter~~~~

[crystallinecrimsonmoth]

Chapter 31

Read on Ao3 and donate to my Ko-fi if you can :3

Michonne and Carl wandered through the gardens at Hilltop in silence for what felt like forever, nothing but the sound of buzzing insects and the conversations of a few adults invading the air. The surrounding flowers were in bloom now, much like the ones back at the Sanctuary, and the entire garden smelled of that sharp, sweet scent that was always present at the start of Spring.

Carl ran his fingers along a few of the fresh flower petals, thinking about everything he wanted to rant about and feeling like the only thing he really needed was a good scream. His adoptive mother walked beside him in the silence, one hand on his shoulder as they passed by multiple Hilltop citizens, all of whom Carl glared at with the signature blend of Negan’s darkness and Rick’s psychotic genes burning in his eye. He didn’t like this settlement anymore, he couldn’t trust anybody there other than Michonne, and in a tough spot, he knew even she would turn against him to protect the place she and Rick called home.

He was the enemy in this community, with only his men a hundred feet away that could protect him. Suddenly, as they approached more Hilltop residents and they all glared back at him, Carl really wished Negan was there to hold his hand.

But he tried to focus on Michonne, turning to her when she squeezed his shoulder and owning up to what had been eating him alive since Negan started teaching the Sanctuary kids about gardening and coming to bed with far too many stories about the little people being cute.

‘I don’t know that I want to raise a kid, and I think Negan does.’ He admitted under his breath, watching Michonne’s reaction with confusion when all she did was nod and squeeze around his shoulders as they walked, rubbing up and down his arm to comfort him.

‘You don’t want to raise a kid because of what happened to Judith, right?’

Carl took a moment before he managed to nod, leaning his head on her shoulder when she offered it to him. A million thoughts ran through his head, all about whether he could handle raising a kid, whether Negan would love the kid more than he loved him, and if everything they had built as King and Queen of the Sanctuary would fall if they became parents and over-stressed about every little thing. He didn’t want to become complacent because of a child, and he didn’t want to lose the leadership style they had just because Negan was too afraid to spill blood in front of their baby.

He liked their life the way it was now, not the way it would be with a child involved.

‘I just don’t want our lives to change for a baby. We’re safe the way we are now, we’re happy, and what if he loves it more than me? What if he sacrifices my life before the baby’s? I don’t know what to do with that idea, Michonne. If we have a kid, he’ll just drop me in the dust and take care of it all on his own if I’m not supportive.’ He sighed, sitting down on the bench she gestured to and leaning back against it.

‘Negan is not going to drop you for a child, Carl. He loves you, he married you, he named you his Queen. I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you’re both here, there’s no way that man will leave you in the dirt for a child.’ Michonne reassured him, stroking the hair away from his eye as they sat and talked it out.

Carl’s eyebrows furrowed at her reply, his mind still irrationally thinking about how much less attention he would get from Negan if they had a baby. The man was so smitten with Judith when he first met her that Carl barely got any attention. Granted, he didn’t want any at that time in their relationship, but still, he was abandoned for a cute baby. Find Negan his own baby and god knows how little of his attention he would receive. He might lose sex completely if they became parents.

‘I just don’t want our lives to change.’ He murmured in response to the woman beside him, picking at his nail beds like he had become accustomed to doing when he was nervous about shit.

The King had noticed the nervous tick a few weeks previously, pointing it out and smacking Carl’s wrists whenever he did it. At least he wasn’t getting smacked at Hilltop.

‘Ow!’

Scratch that, he was getting smacked at Hilltop.

‘You’re hurting yourself, stop it!’ Michonne scolded, making him huff like the teenager he was and cross his arms, looking off into the distance at the rest of the community who milled about around them, doing whatever their duties were while a few of them helped Heather and Oliver put things in the truck.

Carl was grateful for the help, regretting bringing Heather already after she had informed him of her pregnancy with Rory. She shouldn't have come, he knew that and she knew it too, but she had insisted that she wasn’t pregnant enough to be unable to work yet so he should let her work until she couldn’t. The teen couldn’t argue with that.

Her pregnancy had only made him feel worse about the baby situation, reminding him of what happened to his mother all those years ago in the prison. He didn’t want to lose Heather like that; he didn’t want a nutrient-sucking demon making her bleed to death and killing his friend. He knew that Doc had more than satisfactory medical supplies to help her in a situation like that, but it didn’t make him any less anxious.

When Negan had found out about Heather and Rory, it was even worse. He looked so happy but so sad at the same time. He’d whispered to Carl in the dark later that night and asked him if he wanted to try to find an orphan to raise, and it was all Carl could do to stay still and act like he was sleeping. He hadn’t wanted to face that conversation, he never wanted to face that conversation. The idea of his little sister being ripped apart gave him enough nightmares without having to worry about his own child too, so he pretended that he hadn’t heard the question the next morning, acting as if he really had been asleep when Negan asked it, and the man never brought it up again.

That was a week ago, and now he still didn’t know what to do.

‘You don’t have to want kids, Carl, they’re not a necessary part of life, especially not in our world, but if you find a child to take in or someone at the Sanctuary dies in childbirth, it won’t be a burden on your life. You know you’re safe there. Hell, you have that gigantic ass wall up around it now. You have the capacity for so much compassion, and so does Negan. It doesn’t just have to be spent on each other.’ Michonne explained, stroking his cheek and gesturing to the eyeliner on his face.

‘I like this, it suits you.’

Carl smiled, a slight red haze appearing on his cheeks at the casual compliment.

‘Negan suggested it. He thinks it makes my eye brighter, makes up for the gape in my face, apparently.’ He rolled his eye at the comment of his husband, rubbing his cheek in an attempt at getting the blush to go away.

Michonne laughed at his attempts to hide his embarrassment, batting away his hand and squishing his cheek between her fingers to embarrass him even more.

‘I think it looks very pretty, such a cute little boy.’

‘Shut up!’ The teen whined, turning his head away from her as they both laughed.

His heart and mind felt so at ease when he talked to Michonne, totally contrasting with the short, sharp conversations he had with his dad once in a blue moon. She was like a best friend and a mother all wrapped up in one, much like every friend he had in his life, but with a knowledge of his life before the Sanctuary to help him understand his reactions to certain things. It was refreshing to talk to her when he came to Hilltop, and despite the evil shadow he cast on the rest of the community, he acted like a complete angel around the older woman.

‘My Queen, we’ve finished loading the truck.’ The sarcastic tone of Heather’s voice and her red leather boot tapping on the gravel of the path distracted Carl from his thoughts and he looked up to see her smirking, arms crossed over her chest.

Carl just mimicked her in a quiet voice before standing up, getting enveloped in one last hug by Michonne once he was upright. She squeezed him tight like he would disintegrate in her arms if she let go, the way she always hugged him when he came to visit, and the teen squeezed her back just as tightly.

‘I’ll be back in two weeks, don’t die while I’m gone.’

‘The same goes for you, kid. Remember to talk to Negan about your feelings, I doubt he’ll be angry if you say you don’t want to have kids. He’ll still have his teaching job, after all.’ Michonne reassured, kissing his cheek when she let go - a gesture which Carl returned before following Heather to the truck.

He was back in his Negan mindset by the time they were walking past Rick and Michonne’s house, and he sent a wave to his dad who was standing in the front doorway.

‘Bye, Ricky. Be good to your wife or I’ll kill you.’

The older Grimes said nothing, simply staring back at Carl and giving him the slightest wave as Michonne stood beside him again, wrapping her arm around his middle and whispering something to him to make his shoulders sag. His son watched with amusement as the woman placated him before he climbed up into the truck with Oliver in the driver’s seat this time.

He drank from his water bottle that sat in the cup holder on the dash as Oliver started backing out of the Hilltop gate, waving to Rick with a smirk as they disappeared from sight.

Tags (if you’d like to be added or removed from this list, please let me know): @carl-sweet-serial-killer @carlnegan

[crossbows-and-moonshine]

Lunacy Fringe (Chapter 10)

Thank you to everyone wishing me to get better, I love you all! <3

------------------

The next morning when Daryl woke, he was startled to come face to face with a sleeping Zoey. He had forgotten he had asked her into his bed, and in his sleepy state, his brain was trying to catch up with him. He relaxed when he remembered and smiled to himself. She was so peaceful when she slept, so beautiful. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but he felt like he shouldn't. But when he focused on it, she was his girl. That's what he said to her and she didn't fight it, she blushed and smiled. They were in a relationship now, and by how she reacted to him in the kitchen, it was clear she felt the sexual tension too. He needed to get used to this. Affection and touching. He had done it with her from the start but now things were different with them, it felt like the little touches carried more weight and he was nervous about it. He hated how much he was overthinking it. His confidence the day before had paid off greatly, provoking the reaction he wanted from her.

He reached out, tucking her long hair behind her ear and she hummed softly in her sleep, making him grin. It was nice to be this close to her and to be able to just admire her without feeling like some fucking creeper now. Her eyes fluttered open and a lazy smile spread across her face when she saw him, it made his heart ache in his chest. She always seemed so happy to see him, he didn’t understand why.

“Mornin’,” he rasped softly, stroking her cheek sweetly. Her cheeks tinged pink which gave him that rush of satisfaction again as he watched her.

“I didn’t have any nightmares,” she stated, like she was in awe of the fact. Daryl's chest puffed with pride. She hadn’t had a nightmare, the first night since she stayed there she had a restful sleep and it was all because she slept by his side. He felt like he was on another fucking planet.

“Good,” he grinned at her, making her laugh lightly, a noise he loved so fucking much.

They watched each other for a moment, small smiles on their faces. Neither of them wanted to move and ruin the moment. It was nice just being so close to one another. Zoey nibbled her lower lip as she looked at him. The day before had her really worked up. The almost-kisses, his words. She felt like they would never get anywhere at the pace he was going and for once she wanted to be bold, to take what she wanted lest it never fucking happen.

She shocked him when she leant forward, her lips ghosting his like a feather-light touch. It took a moment for his brain to register what she was doing but he pressed his lips against hers more firmly, taking confidence in the fact she had been the one to kiss him. He shuffled closer as he kissed her slowly, savouring every second of it. She seemed to melt into him as she kissed back and he ran his tongue over her lower lip, wanting entrance to taste every inch of her damn mouth. He was more than pleased when she granted him access and he tangled his tongue with hers.

The kiss was slow and sensual and he felt his body reacting to it. He needed to stop, he knew he did. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable or to rush this. He enjoyed kissing her more than anything in the world. He wanted to do this again, not put her off or scare her away. He broke the kiss and the pair were breathless, blinking at each other in slight wonder of how they felt. She beamed a smile at him with her pretty pink cheeks and he couldn't help it when his own lips quirked up in a smile. It felt like a milestone had been passed. A hurdle that they were too scared to jump over. But it was done now, he knew she enjoyed it, and fuck, so did he. Now he felt like he could kiss her whenever he damn well wanted.

She blinked up at him, working up the courage to ask him what she wanted to ask, she wasn't too sure how he would react.

“Do you think...I could go hunting with you?” she asked softly, making his eyes widen in shock for a moment.

“Ya wanna go outside the walls?” he asked hesitantly, making her sit up and toy with her hands. He sat up to look at her.

“I just...I need to learn. I know I’m not great at defending myself yet, but I’m getting better. And you’ll be there, I know you’ll keep me safe,” she murmured, making his chest feel tight. The fact she knew he would keep her safe made him feel all kinds of things. He felt proud and he resisted the urge to kiss her again. He wasn't sure how he felt about it. Her being out of the walls meant danger, but at the same time, she was right, she did have to learn. She wanted to learn to hunt, he knew he was the person to teach her that and it was skill people needed to know. God forbid anything ever happened and they got separated, she would be able to fend for herself. He knew he had to push his selfish intentions of locking her away aside because ultimately, it could cost her life in the end.

“Alright, I’ll take ya. Get ready and meet me downstairs,” he said, giving her a small smile. She beamed at him, practically fucking radiant and he almost melted in a puddle right there. Holy shit, I love this girl. She got up and bounded off to her room, leaving him smiling like a fucking dick as he got out of bed and got himself dressed. He was shocked when he went downstairs to find her dressed and ready before him. She really was eager. When they got to the gate, he could see her fidgeting and playing with her hands. He knew she was nervous but this was good for her, this would help. She had a knife on her and a gun. She knew how to use a gun, her brother had taught her when the world went to shit, he was glad she wasn't completely defenceless. When the gates opened, he looked at her and she nodded at him, inhaling a deep breath.

They walked through the woods carefully and Daryl was pleasantly surprised by how light on her feet she was. Rick was always loud and annoying when he came with him, scaring off all the damn game, but Zoey was silent and he was impressed. He caught a few squirrels and she watched on in awe at how easily he was able to use his crossbow. It was just second nature to him and he seemed so in his element out here. It made her feel a little guilty for having him cooped up looking after her.

“You're really good at this,” she said softly, casting him a glance and smile. He felt himself swell with pride once more and he smiled back.

“Thanks. Huntin’s been my whole life, guess I was made for this world,” he snorted, making her grin at him as they made their way back.

He was startled when she suddenly rushed off ahead of him and he frowned.

“Zo! What the hell?” he called after her, hot on her heels. He wondered what the fuck was wrong with her, if she was having an attack or something. But when he got to her, she crouched down and he realised what she had seen.

“They’re just babies,” she said softly, her face looking so forlorn his heart hurt.

“They’re rabbits, get outta the way so we can take ‘em home, be good for a stew,” he said gruffly, getting his bow ready. Her eyes widened as she stood, standing in front of the two baby bunnies defensively. Daryl squinted as he lowered his bow.

“You can't shoot them! Look how tiny they are! Can we take them back as pets? Please? Think of Judith, she would love them, and me,” she pleaded, giving him the puppy eyes. He grit his teeth, trying to quell his irritation. This was why he didn't take chicks hunting with him.

“Look Zo, I know they’re cute and all, but rabbits are food now, not pets,” he sighed, making her face fall. It hurt him, more than he cared to admit that she looked so sad and he was the cause. It caused him physical fucking pain in his chest and he hated it. She moved out of the way, looking defeated and resigned to it and he raised his bow, one of the baby bunnies in his sights. He couldn’t pull the trigger though, no matter how much he was willing himself to. He couldn’t fucking do it. Damn it.

He heaved a sigh as he lowered the bow, Zoey watching him curiously.

“Fine, take the damn bunnies,” he huffed, making her squeal with delight. He shook his head but he couldn't help the smile that graced his face as she picked them up, bunnies in her arms.

“They better not shit everywhere,” he snorted as they got to the gates, making her roll her eyes and pull a face at him. Carl was there holding Judith with Rick in tow and Carl walked right over with a grin.

“You found bunnies!” he laughed incredulously, making Zoey beam with pride.

“We did, you want one?” she asked with a smile, making Rick look to the bunnies sceptically. He cast a glance to Daryl who snorted and shrugged. Judith giggled when she saw the bunnies and reached out, poking one.

“Can we have one Dad, please?” Carl pleaded, looking at him the exact same way Zoey had looked at Daryl.

“Alright fine, but it's your responsibility,” Rick grinned, shaking his head. Zoey passed Rick a bunny since Carl was holding Judith and then they were off home.

Once they got settled, Zoey made the bunny a little nest. They didn't exactly have a hutch to put it in so it was just free to hop around the living room. The pair sat on the couch, Zoey watching the bunny happily while Daryl looked at her with a smile.

“What shall we call her?” she asked, looking over at Daryl. He blushed slightly feeling like he had been caught staring at her but she didn’t comment on it.

“I don't know...Bunny?” he shrugged, making her laugh.

“Bunny? You can't call her bunny, she is a bunny. She needs a name,” she snorted incredulously, making him squint at her.

“S’wrong with bunny?” he asked looking offended, it only amused her more.

“How about...Fudge?” she smirked, making him huff a laugh and roll his eyes.

“Fudge? The fuck kinda name is that?” he asked with a smirk, making her poke his side.

“A good name,” she stated, pulling her tongue out at him.

He just smiled at her and she blushed, he was staring at her and it was intense.

“What?” she asked hesitantly, feeling the weight of his gaze burning her skin.

“It’s just nice...seein’ ya like this. Relaxed...happy,” he said quietly, making her blush more and grin.

“It's all because of you,” she said sincerely, making his heart still in his chest. It was his turn to blush now and the tips of his ears turned pink as the gravity of her words hit him. He didn't even think about it as he leant down and captured her lips with his. She reacted instantly, kissing him back and he was pleased she hadn't moved away or flinched. He pulled her closer as he deepened the kiss, making her gasp as he kissed her with more need and want. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead on hers as they caught their breath. The both of them had been affected by the kiss, but they weren't quite ready to take it a step further, nor did they really know how to make the next move. They soaked each other in and he stroked her cheek and she smiled up at him adoringly, making him smile back.

He couldn't ever remember being this happy in his life, not once. When he looked at her, everything felt right. It didn’t matter the things he had done in the past, the people he had failed, the people he had lost. Everything felt right when he was with her. Like she soothed his wounds and took his pain away. He wasn’t quite sure just how the fuck he had managed to get her, how she cared for him at all, but he was grateful. It made up for his shitty life, having something as precious as Zoey in his life. He never knew he wanted this, having a girl. He didn't think he deserved it or was good enough. But Zoey was making him feel like a man. She made him feel proud of himself, made him feel good, and that was something in of itself. He had never felt that way, never felt a sense of pride at being a good man, being good at anything. And now she was here, making him feel things he had never felt before and it left his head spinning. She was everything he never knew he wanted and more, and he would do whatever the fuck it took to keep her.

Taglist; @risingphoenix761 @daryldixonandfrogs @arlaina28 @divadinag @keeperofwonderlandus @jodiereedus22 @easnuppa @fand0m-fiend @txladyj-blog @walkingdead-dixon @of-storms-and-sadness

[tigerwalk3]

Secret Santa Fics

We did a Christmas game! We asked Santa for fanfic written by our favs and he didn’t disappoint with his delivery. Looks like we were all put on the nice list because the fics we wished for couldn’t have been better. And since it’s the season for giving, we’re sharing with all of you!

Happy Holidays!

I wrote this fic for @thematsaidwelcome79

XOXOXOXOX __________________________________

“Bullshit.”

“I swear.” Rick made a cross sign over his heart, though he couldn’t hide the giddy smile on his face. Daryl was less amused.

“You’re telling me you didn’t rig this shit? Ain’t no way outta all these people, you just randomly pulled your wife’s name out of that hat.”

Rick quirked an eyebrow at his friend. He really hadn’t messed with the rules—Carol wouldn’t have let him anyway—but he was more struck by Daryl’s choice of words in his accusation. “My wife, huh?”

“Ain’t she?”

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel of the van as they drove back to Alexandria, pondering that. Of course she was his wife. Though, they hadn’t actually discussed that. What he and Michonne had wasn’t going anywhere, and it felt a little trite to call her his girlfriend. She was the mother of his children, his soulmate, if that didn’t make her his wife, no ceremony would. Still though, he wondered if she had thought about the fact that they hadn’t made that official yet. She’d never said anything. But would she—

“Hey!”

“Yeah,” he said, shaking his head. “Of course she is. But I didn’t rig the secret Santa thang. Sometimes you just get lucky.”

“Bullshit.”

“Who’d you get?”

“Eugene.”

…

Rick got home late that night, after Michonne and the kids were already asleep. He and Daryl had made what had become a weekly run into the city. They’d taken the whole group the first time, but now that they knew what areas to avoid, and cleared the rest, the two of them could manage just fine. Besides, this whole Secret Santa thing wasn’t gonna be possible if Michonne was with him whenever they were outside the walls. He’d lied and said he was missing his time with Daryl and she’d packed a sandwich for the both of them and waved them off.

He felt a little like the real Santa tonight, though, as he unpacked the backpack he had filled on the trip. The more essential stuff already went straight to the pantry, this was all for them. Michonne had found stockings in the attic of the house the year prior, and once they had found out about R.J., she’d made a fifth one to add to the mantel. It was red and black flannel, made from an emergency blanket he’d swiped from the trunk of a car, but she’d embroidered his name on the front and even found some white trim to decorate the top.

He plopped down in front of the fireplace and sorted his haul. A barbie for Judith, a football for Carl (that wasn’t going to fit in the stocking, so he set it aside to be wrapped somehow.) and a whole set of vintage matchbox cars for R.J.. Michonne might not approve of him playing with those yet, but he couldn’t leave them sitting on the shelf at that empty, burned out antique shop. Another thing he hadn’t been able to leave still sat in his pocket.

He stuck what he could in the kid’s stockings and hid the ball, then rifled through his pack for the little gift bag he’d found. It said Happy Birthday and had a picture of a cat in a party hat on it, but it would do. This was only day one of the gift exchange and besides, better he not give himself away by going out of his way to find the perfect wrapping. No one else would put in that effort for this little Christmas game.

He filled the cat bag with three silk headbands and some cowrie shells he’d traded Cyndi for, and crept back outside to set it on the front steps as per the rules. As soon as he opened the door, he saw Abraham approaching and he tensed. This couldn’t be good news if he was coming to knock on their door in the middle of the night. He was about to call out to him, when he noticed a package in his hand wrapped in shiny red paper. Since he had picked Michonne, and the kids weren’t involved in this game, he deduced that it had to be a gift for him.

“Rick,” he said, startled.

“Abe. What’s going on?”

Abe shoved the package behind his back and shrugged. This was exactly Rick’s objection to this when Carol suggested it. Grown men giving each other Christmas presents? Secret ones at that? It was a little awkward.

“Nothing, boss,” Abe said. “Just out for a walk. The night air is good for the old respiratory system, ya know. The lungs…”

“Right.”

“How about you? You delivering something?”

Rick looked down at the bag in his hands and glanced up the road toward Daryl’s house. He wasn’t even supposed to tell Daryl who he’d picked. He certainly didn’t want to get caught blabbing to Abraham. “Yeah, uh, was just headed out to drop it off.” He trotted down the steps. He would circle around, throw Abraham off the scent. He shook his head and headed left. This entire thing was so ridiculous.

...

Ok, maybe it wasn’t completely ridiculous. Rick beamed over his cup of coffee as Michonne tied the little shells he’d left for her into her locs. She had been so excited when she saw the little bag on the steps, that his cold, Grinchy heart had started to warm immediately. When she pulled out the headbands and gushed over the print and material, he felt like Scrooge on Christmas morning. Transformed.

He’d also found the little red package Abraham had left him. He’d opened the paper to find six cigars of different brands. He supposed even when you didn’t pick your wife in the draw, this idea still had its merits.

The next day went just as well. Michonne’s eyes practically bugged out of her head when she’d opened the original copy of the Articles of Confederation. He might have been showing off with that one, but if the end of the world wasn’t good for something…

Abe had left him a bottle of whisky, giving him the final push into all out Christmas cheer territory. Maybe he could get himself one of those ugly sweaters for Christmas morning. The kids would hate that. Michonne would love it. He was putting it on his list for the next run.

…

The next run happened to be the next day which was good timing, because after the reaction he got to the first two gifts, he wasn’t satisfied with the chocolate bars and tea he had planned on leaving her next. It wouldn’t really matter once she saw the fourth and final gift (he hoped) but still, he was on a roll, why stop now?

“So what’d you get Eugene?” Rick asked, hiding his laugh as he and Daryl cleared the aisles of an abandoned CVS.

“Hit the jackpot yesterday,” he said, plunging his knife into a lone walkers skull and shaking off the blade. “Found a pyrotechnics place outside of Hyattsville. Left him a bag full a morning glories. Should keep him occupied.”

“And what’d you get?”

Daryl reached into his pocket and pulled out a clean, red bandana, wiping his brow. “Ain’t even got any blood on it yet.”

Rick laughed. “It’s a Christmas miracle.” He shoved aside the last walker he’d put down and stepped over it to get to the aisle he was looking for. “Here we go,” he said, grinning. Bubble bath and lotion. Michonne had already used all of the products that came with the house when they moved in, and she was always looking out for stuff for the kids when she was on runs with him. She’d never get this stuff for herself.

He used his forearm to swipe the contents of the entire shelf into his backpack, then strode a few more aisles down and picked out a real gift bag. They hadn’t put out the Christmas stuff yet when the businesses shuttered their doors, so a plain red one would have to do. He even found a bow.

…

“Look at all this stuff!” Michonne dug through the overflowing bag of toiletries, holding up the pretty bottles to R.J. as he lay on his back on the blanket on the living room floor. The baby cooed as she showed him one by one.

Rick took a sip from his new coffee mug, printed with the words “World’s Greatest Boss” and smiled. Carol deserved a medal for this idea.

…

The final day of the Secret Santa was actually Christmas Day (as far as they could tell and had decided as a group). When he checked the front step, he found a pair of socks and some jerky with a note that said: “have a Merry Christmas, you’ve earned it -Abe.” Rick smiled and put his arm around Michonne who was a little dejected.

“Maybe your person is gonna deliver it later today,” he said, trying to keep a straight face. He’d already planned on giving her his gift later, after the kids went to bed. “The final day it’s not a secret anymore, so maybe they want to hand deliver it.”

“Maybe,” she said, holding the robe Carl had gotten her closed against the cold morning air. Her frown quickly turned into a smile when they walked back into the house and watched the kids play with their new things.

By the time everyone was put to bed, they were exhausted. He sat down on the couch and held his arms open for her to join him. She leaned her head against his chest and sighed happily. “It was a nice Christmas,” she said.

“It sure was.”

“I wonder what happened to my Secret Santa.”

“I don’t think he forgot you.”

“He? You know who it was?”

“Of course I do. You think I’m gonna let Carol organize someone else getting my wife gifts without me knowing who it is?”

He felt her stiffen, then turn slowly over her shoulder to look at him. “Your wife?” she asked, her eyes wide in a good way, like when she’d seen those headbands, but even better.

“Yeah. My wife.” He kissed her forehead and laced his fingers through hers. “At least that’s what I want you to be. If that’s something you want…”

She nodded, her eyes getting teary. “Yeah. I do.”

“Wait. Don’t say I do yet.” He shifted slightly so he could reach the little box in his pocket, pulling it out and setting it in her hand. “Michonne, nothing I could say could make you mean any more to me than you already do. The truth is, even this seems like an understatement in this day and age, but traditions were made for a reason, and while we’re rebuilding the world, maybe this is one we want to keep going. So…” He opened the box to show her the platinum and emerald ring he’d found in that same antique shop where he’d picked up R.J.’s cars. “...if you wouldn’t mind doing me the honor of wearing my ring, I’d like for the whole world to know what I already do. You’re everything to me, not the least of which is my wife.” He slid the ring on her finger and she stared at it while she wiped her eyes with her other hand.

“It’s beautiful, Rick. Now can I say I do?”

He reached up to press a finger in the corner of his own eye to keep his tears from falling. “Yeah.”

“I do, Santa.”

Rick laughed. “You knew?”

“Of course I did! I knew the second I opened up all that bubble bath that was so clearly wrapped by a man, and you didn’t even bat an eye!”

“Yeah I suppose I could have put a little more effort into faking it.”

“Well as your wife, I think you did a great job.”

“And as your husband, I’m gonna need you to take care of this for me next year.”

Michonne giggled, then laid her head on his chest. “Merry Christmas, Rick.”

“Merry Christmas, Michonne.”

[antikristvs]

Inktober Writing Challenge

Day 7: A Campfire Story

( I tried to make Judith’s tale as alike with an actual story told around a campfire in manner as I could. Also... the monster was named after you, @cthulhu-is-metal ​ ! Hope you enjoy )

It was a lovely night of late August. Not a tiniest cloud obscured the somber abyss of velvety nocturnal sky  peppered in tiny silver eyes of idly shimmering stars. From time to time, a blazing orb would sear through the bottomless sphere, rousing a fluttering wish in a heart or two before it suddenly faded. On a hill in midst of fields swayed by light summer’s breeze, golden bonfire cheerfully rumbled, feather-light sparks ascending up into the pleasantly warmed air - some slowly, some rapidly, dancing and twirling like snowflakes lit on fire by a mysterious force.

Inside the pulsing circle of light embracing the bonfire, a company of four sat on old stubs of trees long fallen, delightful scent on roasted marshmallows and sweet sound of laughter lingering around them.

“Mine burnt again!..” complained youngest of the party, a girl no older than seven, cuddled in a fluffy pink sweater quite too large for her “Make one for me, Marcus!”.

“Five dollars” an impish grin crooked the lips of a twelve year old boy beside her, whose sweet, unlike his sister’s coal-turned one, looked softly smoked and tasted.

“Grandpa, Marcus is being mean again!”.

“Don’t bicker” an elderly gentleman on the other side of the campfire scolded the two children, yet did not seem angry at all “I shall make one for you, Jenna. Would you guys like some cocoa?”.

Little Jenna nodded with excitement, however Marcus merely frowned, his marshmallow already cold “I wish we could have hunted down some rabbits… or even a deer! That would have made a fun adventure, and a tasty meal…”.

“Are you stupid?” oldest of the children, a girl of fourteen quietly sipping tea beside her grandfather, unexpectedly spoke up “You can’t hunt in these woods, Marcus. You should know that by now”.

“But why?” Jenna piped in surprise.

“You have not heard the story?..” Marcus gasped, only to jump in glee as his little sister shook her head “Tell us, grandpa! Tell us about the monster”.

Grandpa pondered for a short while, before announcing “I think… It’s time I pass Judith the honor. Judy dear, will you?.. It’s a tradition! Remember?..”.

Judith sighed, obviously not as entertained by the campout as her siblings, however began, her voice growing strangely low, reflections of the blaze turning her youthful face eerily mystical:

“Nobody remembers where he came from… Nobody could, for was here before the first villager, before the first field of crops. Perhaps… Perhaps he is is older than mankind itself. Few had met him eye to eye, even fewer lived to tell the tale, but he is whispered to appear an enormous black stallion covered in rotting wounds, with hooves overgrown by moss, and huge elk’s antlers upon a head of a shepherd hound… well, skull of a hound, for flesh had long withered away, only bare bone remaining. His presence was always accompanied by a swarm of violet moths, and lingering scent of blooming lilac. Everyone who heard his voice got sick and died, yet one old woman survived long enough to mention it sounded like a hundred voices speaking at once, all singing, howling and hissing at the same time. Not a soul knew his true name, for if he held one, he had never revealed it, though the villagers fondly referred to him as “Violet-gazed Joe” because, in spite of having no eyes, or them being long decomposed, bright violet will-o’-wisps burnt at the depth of his sockets. Indeed, as violet as his swarm of moths… Actually, many said the insects too were his many many unblinking eyes, soaring through the woods, through swaying rye and through golden wheat... People respected him as much as they were petrified of him… They would not hunt creatures of the forest in which he lived, or chop wood - only pick deadwood, as well as collect berries, herbs and mushrooms, always leaving some for wild beasts to feast on too, of course. Some even named Violet-gazed Joe a god and worshipped him, slaughtering newborns to bury at the edge of the forest, or at the end of their family’s field. Violet-gazed Joe was always kind to the villagers… Those who spilled blood, which he gladly drank, in his name, would always attain a harvest of immense prosperity, no illness plagued them, and a beautiful bush of lilac would bloom from the ground where the sacrifice laid. Meanwhile when winter dawned especially grim, people would find a trail of crimson petals leading towards the heart of the forest - a sign for them to hunt woodland beasts for food and fur, and chop down trees to warm their homes, all without a punishment. Violet-eyed Joe looked after them. He was a force nature, tender and ruthless alike, always obeying her law…

But slowly, the villagers became greedy, losing fear and piety towards Violet-eyed Joe, only a few remaining loyal, warning others about a disaster coming if they do not cease the violence. They were not heard, rapacity blinding families and neighbors alike… They were not wrong... More and more traps were scattered around the forest. Countless creatures lost their lives. Trees collapsed one by one, groaning in final agony. It enraged Violet-eyed Joe. Many of those who wounded the forest became ailed, vomiting blood, losing eyesight and growing to resemble corpses more than living beings. They died like flies after tasting a poisonous fungus. However still, after burying loved ones, they would resume and inflict pain to nature which forlong years had watched over them…

Thus one night, primeval screams shook the village, so loud they rippled miles through the crops. People shot up from fevered sleep, only to find their spouses, their mothers and fathers, their children… all writhing and convulsing on the ground, swarmed by a vicious cloud of amethyst violet moths. Paralyzed by dread and sense of doom, the spared ones watched, listened… when at last the most flew away, pouring out through open windows, so many they obscured the sickly full moon… few details were uttered through time about the horror their unfortunate minds witnessed, for it is simply too dire for mortal tongue to describe. It is said the faces were stagnated in perpetual fear…Carcasses were left skinless… The moths, breathing acid in wrath of nature, as well as of Violet-gazed Joe, had melted it, and devoured it, only drops of gruesome, thick yellowish liquid staining reeking, swollen meats. Mysteriously, hearts of the victims had been ripped out of their chests and clutched by their lifeless hands, yet somehow, no ribcage was damaged… perhaps it was a symbol of their heartless greed… A few who frantically glanced outside swore to have caught a glimpse of Violet-gazed Joe himself in midst the fog of his fluttering minions, observing the unfolding nightmare in sorrowful satisfaction.

After this scourge, the villagers did learn their lesson, and once again left the forest in peace. Violet-gazed Joe seemed to have forgiven them. At least he was never seen again, apart from the distant sound of hooves echoing through the woods on silent nights, and strange, shimmering violet moths still spotted from time to time, but never caught. He became a legend told in sleepovers and around campfires. Younger generations began to simply call him “the monster”... But still, no one can deny, that most children who wander into the forest alone…” Judith fell silent, and suddenly, her lips contorted in a pretentiously sinister grin “Do not come back!”.

Jenna and Marcus squealed, mortified and joyful at the same time, the young girl clinging to her brother. Grandpa chuckled softly, amused by their wide-eyed reaction.

“Very good, Judy, very good! I always said you shall make a great storyteller. Don’t be spooked, Jenna, it is nothing but a story. Now, truly, who wants some cocoa?... It is going to taste ugly if we delay any more”.

They all remained oblivious to an enormous shadow, watching the rumbling campfire from afar. Hard was to name his shape, yet who could mistake those violet will-o’-wisps shimmering in hollow sockets of his pale skull.

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

The Bet

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Pure smut. Not even trying to hide it. Language, NSFW

Plot: Circa Season 4 - reader is friends with Maggie and likes Daryl. Maggie and reader make a bet about the archer. 

Words: 4130

One shot, has potential for more if ya think its worth it. Also, hope this one makes up for those who hate me because I made them cry with the last one. MWAH!

The heat had been oppressive over the last few days, with no rain or clouds in sight. Off on the west side of the yard Rick, Daryl, Glenn and Tyrese were trying to add support to the fences while you, Maggie and Beth sat under the kitchen canopy taking refugee from the blazing sun.

Maggie and Beth were arguing with each other over something stupid that had happened years ago and you had your gaze set firmly to the west. Sweat was slowly dripping down your brow with the occasional salty drop landing in your eye. You could feel the sweat pooling in your bra, as well as other places, but that could just be because of your current view.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m right, aren’t I? You were there… tell her,” Maggie said and threw Beth an indignant look.

“Huh?” you asked lazily, your attention still half directed at watching the guys fix the fence. Well, not all the guys. Just one guy in particular.

Maggie rolled her eyes at you and repeated the question.

“I’m sorry Maggie, I checked out a while ago,” you offered her a sorry smile and grabbed a couple more snap peas from the bucket.

Maggie turned and followed your gaze to the fences, her face broke out into a wide grin when she was facing you again.

“Uh… no,” she said shaking her head.

“What?” you asked half offended, half confused.

“It’s pretty obvious,” Beth chimed in with a tone of disgust. “You stare at him constantly. It’s kinda creepy.”

You dismissed Beth’s comment and turned to look back at Maggie. “Has she always been like this?”

“Well, she’s always disliked you if that helps,” Maggie laughed and raised her eyebrows at Beth.

You had known the Greene girls from years before when your family lived on the next farm over. Having hung out with their older brother Sean, you and Maggie had become quick friends but Beth never seemed to approve of your friendship with her siblings.

When you stumbled upon the prison several weeks before, you never thought you would find someone you had known, much less people that you were close too.

“That ain’t nothin’ new Maggie. I know how much Bethy hates me,” you reached over and playfully pinched her cheek.

“Ugh,” Beth said standing up getting ready to walk away, “I have to go get Judith. And don’t call me Bethy, only daddy gets to do that.”

You and Maggie watched her walk away, and you turned your attention back to the guys by the fence.

“She’s right ya know,” Maggie say nodding in their direction, “it is pretty obvious how you stare at him and all.”

“Well, I am sorry if I can still have an appreciation for something so spectacular. Besides, what do you care anyway? You have a man.”

“I have a husband,” Maggie said flashing the ring Glenn gave her, smiling wide.

“That’s the last thing I want Maggie, but I am very happy for you.”

“Alright then, what do you want?” She questioned, shrugging her shoulders.

“Not that,” you pointed to her rings. “I don’t know how you even go about trying to love someone in a world like this. That’s way too hard. I guess I just want to have some fun, scratch an itch, ya know?”

“Geez, Y/N!” Maggie exclaimed, eyes wide but smiling.

“So, what’s his deal anyway?” You asked trying to ignore Maggie’s reaction, your eyes once again fixed on Daryl’s back.

“I dunno, he’s kinda quiet and shy. I mean, back on the farm he was different. But after a winter on the road, and then with what we had to go through to get this place… he’s changed.”

“Yeah, ok great… I meant, like who is he sleeping with?”

Maggie gave you a wide-eyed look again, surprised at your boldness.

“No one that I know of,” she said going back to cleaning snap peas. “But, I doubt you would get far with him.”

“Why?”

“I dunno, you just don’t seem like his type.”

“I can change that,” you said and felt a grin spread across your face.

“Yeah, Ok. I’ll tell you what Y/N… You manage to be the one to tie Dixon down, and I’ll do the gardening for a whole month by myself.”

You looked at your friend and stuck out a hand to her. “Maggie, hun, you know better than to never dare me to do somethin’. I’ll take that bet, happily.”

  Early the next morning you were woken up by the sound of bangs and clunks coming from down the cell block. Wiping your eyes of sleep, you got up and peeked out of the curtain. Daryl was pacing in and out of his cell, hands on hips mumbling to himself.

You couldn’t make it out completely, but picked up a couple words, “Fuck is it?” he growled and stormed out of the cell block. His unclothed arms that emerged from the cut off shirt were bulging in rage and sweat; his normal easy swagger was now fueled with anger, which somehow made him even sexier.

Since you were already awake, and your roommate was snoring loudly, you decided to get up and out early and head out to the laundry to get some of your work done. After throwing on some clothes, you caught sight of Beth near the wash tubs and wrinkled your nose at the thought of her being the first one you spoke to that morning.

As you approached her, you realized now why Daryl was in a fit of rage. Beth had his vest about to go in the wash, and given his demeanor earlier, you figured she didn’t ask when she took it.

“Hey Beth,” you sung cheerily, “Um, whatcha doin’?”

“Washing Daryl’s vest,” she said not looking at you.

“Ya know he’s flipping the fuck out lookin’ for it,” you said trying to look at her, but the sun was blinding you.

“He is? I didn’t mean anything by it, I just… it was so dirty. I was just trying to help.”

“Lemme have it, I’ll bring it back and tell him I found it out here. Won’t tell him it was you.”

Beth finally looked at you as though she was a child be chastised for being bad. Sheepishly, she handed you the vest before it touched the water.

“You really won’t tell him?” she asked, eyes begging you to keep your word.

“I promise. Now, why don’t you go see if Rick’s up, I’m sure he’ll need you to care for Judy today.”

She gave you one last untrusting glance before turning and walking away. Gently folding Daryl’s vest, you hurried back to your cell and stuffed it into your gear bag. Maggie’s bet was fresh in your mind from the day before, and you felt determined to make this the day that you won a month off of gardening.

  With the pack slung over your shoulder, you set off to find Maggie. She and Glenn were sitting at one of the outdoor tables near the barbecue having breakfast. As you approached them, they were snuggled close and sharing a private giggle. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at them, but also feel the slightest twinge of jealousy.

“Hey, Maggie,” you said sidling up to the table, “you got a sec?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Um, tell me again about that place… you know where you and Glen used ta…” you raised your eye brows quickly with a little smirk, and both their faces instantly flushed red.

“You told her about that?” Glenn asked his wife, poking her in the ribs.

“She’s one of my best friends, of course I did,” Maggie said to him and looked back to you. “We don’t go out there anymore, but it’s to the southwest, maybe half a day’s hike. Why?”

“Oh, no reason really. Just have to start working on getting that free month of gardenin’ outta ya.”

You offered Maggie a wink, blew her an animated kiss and set off to try and get the archer to follow you out of the gates. Maggie jumped up, grabbing your arm before you could leave the courtyard.

“Hey,” she said pulling you close, “I tried to grab you last night after dinner, but you had already left.”

“What’s up?” you asked, half amused by the gleeful look in her eye.

“When you were helpin’ Carol hand out dinner plates last night, I caught him starring at you when you bent over to pick up the extra plates.”

An embarrassed grin played at the corners of your mouth. “Really?”

“I’m tellin’ ya. I watched that man stare at your ass for a sold thirty seconds,” Maggie giggled and turned backwards towards Glenn. Maggie threw her arms up in the air, “So maybe I was wrong! Never happened before, but there’s a first time for everythin’!”

  Daryl was in the alley of the courtyard working on one of the cars. You placed the pack on the ground and watched him for a moment before he saw you.

“You need somethin’?” he asked, squinting one eye because of the bright, hot sun. It was barely 8 a.m. but his hair was already soaked from sweat and hanging in his eyes.

You leaned the side of your hip against the car, kicked one boot over the other and crossed your arms right beneath your breasts, inadvertently giving Daryl a better look at them breaching the scoop neck of your tank top.

“Was gonna go hunt, wanna come?” you tried to ask as nonchalantly as possible, though to your ears you felt like you were begging him.

“Where?” He asked grabbing the rag from the back of his jeans and cleaning off his hands.

“Was going to head out through the tombs into the woods. See what may be lingering out there.”

Daryl closed the hood of the car and gave you a once over with narrowed eyes.

“You been huntin’ before?”

“Mhmm, with my dad. I am not the best hunter, but I can handle myself. Wouldn’t hurt to have a pro along for support though,” you said in your sweetest voice.

“Alright. I’ll meet ya down in the tombs in five minutes. Let me just grab my shit.” Daryl turned to head back into the prison. Before walking through the door, you saw him pause and quickly glance back at you over his shoulder.

It was enough to make the day’s heat feel like nothing compared to what you were feeling deep in that part of you that needed him to scratch your itch.

  Shortly after the height of the afternoon passed, Daryl led you through a thick gathering of trees that gave way to a dirt path. Without a word, he motioned for you to look down at the tracks imprinted in the mud.

He was on the trail of a deer, more than one if you were seeing it right. You were just hoping that both you and Daryl could get what you were both chasing.

A quick survey of the trail led you to the cabin that Maggie and Glenn had used during their early days at the prison. The quickening of your heart must have been loud, because Daryl paused and turned to look at you.

“You alright?” he asked, concern written on his face.

“Yeah, just hot,” you said and smiled.

“Might be able to do something about that,” he said and used his chin to point ahead to the small pond behind the cabin.

The water was gloriously chilled for having been cooking in the Georgia sun. Splashing it on your face was nearly orgasmic, and you didn’t dismiss the sideways glances Daryl cast your way as your poured handful after handful over your head.

“We should check out the cabin,” you said, “see if anyone left anything good behind.”

Daryl nodded. “Alright, let’s do it.”

Yes, you thought to yourself, let’s.

  When you were both satisfied it was walker free, Daryl told you to look through the cabinets and rooms to see what you could find. He was going to go circle around the pond for any more signs of the deer that passed through.

The second he left, you got to work putting your plan in motion. Rifling through the cabinets as asked, you discovered some of the things Maggie and Glenn had left behind. There were a dozen small candles, half a bottle of whiskey and a few cans of soup in the back of one cabinet. In the second, smaller room, you found a small mattress sitting on an old wrought-iron frame and a stack of folded blankets in the corner.

You nodded to yourself and got busy getting the cabin ready to try and seduce Daryl. Not knowing if it would really work, you recognized the fact that if it didn’t, you may never be able to show your face around him again. But you thought that it would be worth the chance for a night with Daryl.

  The cabin door opened about twenty minutes later and you exhaled nervously through pursed lips. You watched as Daryl walked into the room, crossbow slung over his shoulder, eyes darting around trying to find you. He finally looked up and saw you standing in the middle of the room.

Daryl stopped moving when he noticed you wearing nothing but a pair of black lace panties and his winged vest. His breath hitched for a moment before exhaling between parted lips. Daryl bit his lower lip, his blue eyes burning a hole right through you.

“I, uh, found your vest,” you said, seductively tracing a finger along the inside edge that just barely covered your breast.

Daryl still didn’t speak. His chest rose and fell heavily, a low growl purred from deep within his chest. He had you at a disadvantage because you didn’t know his signs. You were half worried he would be more pissed about the vest, than about the fact that you were trying to seduce him.

“Do you want it back?” you asked taking a tentative step towards him. “I didn’t take it, just so you know. But I did find it.”

“Where?” he grunted finally, his eyes still firmly fixed on yours.

“In the laundry. Someone musta grabbed it by accident,” your doubt was growing, maybe this wasn’t the way to go about trying to entice Daryl. Maybe Maggie was right the first time and he just wasn’t interested.

“Why didn’t ya give it back then?”

“Thought this might be more fun,” you took another step so you were less than an arm’s length from him.

“Out here, in the middle of all this?” he said, whipping his finger into the air. “This why you asked me to come hunt?”

“Certainly couldn’t try something like this back at the prison.” Deciding to try one last bold move before throwing in the towel, you reached out and gently played with the collar of his shirt. “Could I?” you asked looking up at him with eyes that begged for him to reciprocate what you were feeling.

“You’re a crazy ass girl, you know that?” Daryl chastised, but didn’t move away from you, nor did he try to remove your hand from his shirt.

“I’ve been told that once or twice. But, if this kind of crazy is too much…”

Daryl’s hand brushed against the place where your shoulder became exposed through the arm of his vest. You watched his face as he studied that part of you and wanted desperately to know what he was thinking.

His touch was a blast of heat on your skin. The air in the cabin was growing thicker with the tension and just when you thought he wouldn’t ever decide, he did.

Daryl rested his hand on the soft spot at the place where your neck meets your chest. His large, rough fingers snaking up your neck and gingerly wrapping around.

“You never answered me Daryl… do you want your vest back?” you tilted your head to feel more of his hand on your skin.

“No,” he growled.

Still holding your neck, Daryl leaned in and came within an inch of his lips pressing to yours. His nose circling yours, eyes serious and fixed on you.

“Whatcha want from me girl?” He snarled, his breath hot on your face, his body poised and ready to pounce; but you were still unsure if was to fight or fuck.

You just shrugged and narrowed your eyes at him. You reached up and ran your hand up through the back of his hair. Having had enough of the uncertainty, you pushed his lips into yours and kissed him.

Daryl’s grip on your neck slipped, his hand sliding down the space between your breasts that the vest didn’t cover. It felt like he left a trail of electricity and when his hand came to rest on your stomach. You felt him lightly slip his hand around your waist under the hem of the vest; his fingertips just barely brushing up against your skin.

Even though you kissed him first, it was Daryl that made the boldest move of all. His hand slid down your back, and over the silk that covered your ass. When your body responded, his tongue slid between your lips and plunged into your mouth.

Daryl kissed you hard enough to push your whole body back up against the windows that looked over the pond. As his broad chest and hips pressed into yours, you wrapped your arms around him, letting your hands explore his lower back, and eventually down to his ass.

He pulled back from you, his eyes fixated on your face.

“This is what you want?” he asked in a growling whisper. “This what we came all the way out here for?”

The damp heat growing between your legs ached for him. You couldn’t muster up any words, just a nod paired with pleading eyes.

“Why?” His face was barely inches from yours.

“Because,” you said, not wanting him to stop, “you drive me fucking crazy and I just need to know what it would be like to be with you.”

You licked and bit at your lower lip waiting for him to decide if your answer was good enough.

“Damn girl, you don’t gotta lure me out to the woods. It’s not like I ain’t thought about it.”

Your stomach lurched at the notion that he thought about you in the same way. Leaning forward your lips found his again. There was no hesitation this time as Daryl dove into you, sucking and slurping on your tongue and mouth with his; a full-on assault due to a long period of pent-up frustrations from both of you.

Daryl’s hands slowly pushed the vest from your shoulders, but he never stopped kissing you. When it hit the floor, and your breasts were fully exposed to him, his lips left your mouth and began to attack your neck down to your collarbone. His rough hands wrapping around you and toying with the edge of your panties.

“I want you,” you whispered as your tongue teased the outline of his ear, “I’ve wanted you since I met you.”

Daryl purred, grabbed your ass with both hands and lifted you up against the windows. He buried his face in your breasts, giving each one attention with his tongue and teeth. You could feel the hardness of him begging to break free and pushing into your panties.

Just as you went to reach down, to relieve him of his pants, Daryl slowly released you, allowing your feet to touch the floor. He went to work unbuckling his belt, letting his pants and boxers fall to the floor. Your breath hitched in your throat as the full length of his cock sprung free.

His eyes never left your body. Daryl didn’t bother with the buttons of his shirt as he ripped it off over his head, throwing it across the room without care. His hands were on you, yanking down the underwear and nearly pushing you out of them.

“Tell me again,” he demanded as he simultaneously turned you around and pulled you into him so you could feel his cock pressing into your ass.

“I want you to fuck me Daryl… please,” you moaned. “Please…”

He had one arm wrapped around your shoulders, his grip on you just a bit too tight. His other hand reaching down into the warmth of your folds. Upon feeling how ready you were for him, he bit down on your neck, teasing you with his tongue while his fingers went to work deep inside you.

Pressing your hands against the windows, trying to suppress the scream of pleasure rising in you, you felt his breath hot on your ear, “Don’t…” he whispered, “I wanna hear you scream.”

Daryl’s fingers found their way inside you, and as you rocked your body back and forth you did what he asked.

“Fuck!” You screamed, making his shaft throb harder against you.

Your body began to quake, ready to cum for him as his fingers flicked, pulled and pounded into you. As if sensing your orgasm, Daryl quickly pulled his hand away.

“Not yet,” he said, a soft buzz in your ear.

“Don’t fucking tease me Daryl, I am not a patient woman,” you smirked and turned your head to see his face over your shoulder. His mouth found yours and he devoured you again, spinning you around and lifting you up against the windows.

Without warning, Daryl let his cock slip into you and immediately moaned at the sensation. His face buried in your neck, your one hand tangled in his wild hair the other holding onto his back for dear life.

Daryl rocked against you, with each thrust finding deeper and deeper places of you to touch. He was breathing heavy, grunting weighty breaths into your ear, licking and biting at you each time your fingers dug into his skin.

“Oh God,” you screamed as he reached the spot that caused your body to spasm uncontrollably. He lifted his head and looked at you through the tendrils of hair obscuring his face, a smile playing on his lips.

“You getting’ what you want now girl?” He continued to pull you into him, pounding against your hips as you felt your body exploded.

“Holy shit Daryl… don’t…” the words wouldn’t come as you did, but you didn’t want him to stop. He had no intention of stopping.

His hand grabbed your breast and pressed his mouth over your nipple, flicking it with his tongue. A moan escaped you at the feeling of it so soon after completion. The sensation sent little electrical impulses through your body, making you clench your pussy around him as he lunged himself into you.

“Oh fuck, Y/N,” he grunted, letting his dominance waver and allowing you to take full advantage.

“Cum for me Daryl,” you said in his ear, barely above a whisper. “It’s your turn baby, cum for me.”

Daryl’s grip on you tightened and right before his body came to completion, he brought his mouth back to yours and kissed you deeply. You felt his back and shoulders tense as he came into you, a moan escaping your own lips as his tongue danced with yours.

The two of you stayed in that embrace pushed up against the window for a moment, catching your breath before he pulled out of you and helped you down.

You picked up the clothes you had put aside earlier and slipped them back on reluctantly as you watched Daryl get dressed. When you were done, you picked the vest up off the floor and handed it to him, a flirty smile playing on your lips.

He smirked and took it from you, slipping it back on his own shoulders where it belonged.

“Thanks for finding it,” he said, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you into him. He kissed you gently this time, which caused a whole new kind of feeling to stir in you.

Oh fuck, you thought, this can’t be happening.

Daryl’s kiss lingered on your lips even after he finally pulled back from you. The idea that you were starting to feel something scared the shit out of you, and it wasn’t something you could deal with. You decided to just enjoy this moment and deal with that crap later.

“Thank you,” you said to him before he turned towards the door.

“For what?” Daryl asked picking up his crossbow.

“For getting me out of a month of garden duty,” you said with a wink and walked past him out of the cabin to head back home.

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