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queen-of-fanfics · 1 year

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Stay Away From Him

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Prompt: Miguel is jealous of your closeness with Hobie and tells you to stay from him.

A/N: Well I have had too much free time at work and all I've been doing is writing. Kinda love it. Also, how did y'all like Across the Spider-Verse? I saw it four times in theaters, it's like a drug in my veins. Anywho I figured I wanted to do a fanfic in a world that I haven't done yet so here it is!

Part 2

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, Peter!”

“Hey, Y/N”

“Oh hey, Peters.”

“Oi! Y/N!” Recognizing the accent, you look up in the air and see Hobie swinging his way over to you.

“Hobie! What are you doing here?!”

This was your second week working inside the Spider-Verse headquarters. You were the only person there who wasn’t some version of Spiderman. One day, Miguel O’Hara was in your universe for a job, bing bang boom, next thing you knew, he offered you a job. Your job here at headquarters was to act as his assistant of sorts. Help him with errands, help him on missions, and fetch him lunch because the poor man will work until he starves. That was exactly what you are doing now. You had finished locating the latest anomaly and went down to the cafeteria to grab him some empanadas.

Working at headquarters was like a living dream. So far, everyone seems to like you and you’ve already made friends. Hobie and Gwen welcomed you with open arms and the three of you became inseparable. During your time working with Miguel, you may have developed a little crush on your boss. You never told anyone about how your heart starts beating faster or how your breath gets shaky when he stands a little too close. Though, you never had to say because everyone could see it. And everyone warned you away from the infamous Miguel O’Hara.

“He’s not for you. He’s obsessed with his work and barely knows what having fun or being nice is. I doubt he even knows there’s a life outside of this place.” Gwen said one day during lunch.

“Who’s not for me? What are you talking about? I’m just here to work.” You shovel food into your mouth in an attempt to hide your face.

“Mmhmm, sure. You can deny it all you want but if you keep staring at him all weird like that, even he’s going to start to notice. Just trust me, you should just try to stay away from him. Which I guess isn’t possible since he’s your boss but you know what I mean.”

“Though it does raise the question as to why he recruited her, don’t it?” Hobie chimes in.

Hobie jumps on your back and it pulls you back to the present.

“I’m here for it! Whatchu think? I would willingly come here? Nah.”

“Actually! We just finished a mission so we just came to check in with Miguel.” Gwen swings down and lands right next to you. The three of you continue walking side by side down the hall to Miguel. Hobie throws his arm casually around your shoulder, keeping you close to his side.

You walk into the main room and see that Miguel is standing on his platform up in the air. There are a few people milling around the room, minding their business. People tend to hover around Miguel in case any missions come up or if he needs help.

“Miguel! I got you some empanadas!” You yell up at him.

He turns and barely glances over his shoulder at the three of you. He grunts and rolls his eyes in annoyance but his platform starts its slow descent. Gwen runs over to Jessica and they start talking. Hobie walks with you over to your little desk that sits on the ground floor …. like a regular person.

“So we still on for tonight?” Hobie asks.

“What’s tonight?” You turn and ask Hobie. You lean your butt against the desk to look up at him. He gets in close, places his hands against the desk on both sides of you, and cages you in with his arms.

“Whatchu mean what’s tonight? Did you forget already? Thought you and Gwen were staying in my place tonight!” Hobie teases you.

“Oh, Hobie! I forgot about that, I can’t come over.” Gwen yells over before she turns back to her conversation.

“Guess it’s just us then.” He mumbles and gives you a wink.

Before you could respond, Miguel’s voice booms through the large chamber.

“Y/N isn’t going anywhere tonight.” Looking over, you see that Miguel has lowered his platform as far as it could go and he is staring directly at the two of you with a deadly look on his face. All the conversations in the room died down and you could tell that everyone's eyes were looking between you and Miguel. Everyone treads carefully around Miguel … everyone except Hobie.

“What? You keeping her hostage now?”

All of a sudden feeling nervous, unsure as to what put Miguel in a foul mood and not wanting to make it worse, you try to straighten up and stand in attention but Hobie isn’t moving.

“We’ve got work to do here, Hobie. Unlike you, some of us have things we have to do.” Miguel crosses his arms and stares down at Hobie.

“What work? We caught all the known anomalies already. Plus I was going to work on my bike, give it some more bells and whistles.” Jessica pipes up.

“There’s more work to do than just waiting around for things to happen.”

“Then what do I gotta do, hmm?” Jessica sasses back to him.

“Nothing. I, uh, just want to do some surveillance. Never know ”

“And what Y/N got to do with it, then?” Hobie asks, giving Miguel a weird look.

“Y/N is my assistant. Y/N must assist me. And get off of her Hobie.”

“Right, but it don’t sound like there is any real work to do. I don’t see why Y/N gotta sit here and suffer being around you. And, uh, I’m actually quite comfortable where I am.”

“No no, I don’t mind. It’s my job. I can stay” You rush to say as you start pushing at Hobie’s shoulders.

Hobie turned slowly to look at you without budging and you just stared up at him. “Move.” you mouth to Hobie with beseechment in your eyes. But all he does is smile at you and barely visibly shakes his head ‘No’. Eyes wide, you think to yourself, I’m not going to have a job after this. The room is still silent and no one speaks as the tension rises.

“Everyone out!” Miguel booms, “Looks like no one wants to work anyways. It’s not as if we’re trying to save the entire universe or anything.”

“Oh! Miguel, we wanted to check in about the-” Gwen is cut off when Miguel turns back around to his monitors and yells, “OUT!”

Everyone exchanges nervous looks around the room while they pick up their things. The whole time though, Hobie is looking down at you with a knowing smirk on his face. “What are you smiling about?” You hiss at him as you push him up so you can grab your bag and head out.

“Oh just something I think you should find out for yourself. And you might soon.”

“Ugh, I’m going to kill you.”

Hobie throws his arm around you and leads you out, “Yeah sure, but hey, looks like you can come over after all, aye?”

“Everyone except for Y/N!” You whirl around at the sudden sound but Miguel is still just looking at his monitors.

“Damn, looks like you’re going to find out real soon. See ya sweet cheeks.” Hobie gives you a wink and walks out with everyone else.

You stood in the doorway waiting for Miguel’s instructions but after a few beats, you realized that he wasn’t going to turn around and talk to you. Slowly walking back to your desk, you couldn’t help but notice how the tension in the room did not leave along with everyone else. It still lay thick and heavy in the air. Taking off your bag and placing it on your desk, you turn around to face Miguel. You open your mouth to say something to break the silence but he cuts you off.

“Come up here and help me look at this.”

Your eyes grew wide and you hurried over to the dais. Your heartbeat started quickening with excitement, you have never been invited onto the platform before. Miguel looks down his nose at you with a disgusted look on his face as you struggle to even get your leg on the platform.

“Sorry, don’t got webs like y’all. Give me a second.”

You finally heave yourself up and flop over on your back, gulping down deep breaths of air. “You know, I’m starting to think I’m out of shape.” Figuring that it was time to actually get to work, you jump up to your feet and face the monitors.

“Alrighty, so what am I looking at?” All of the monitors were showing different videos of different universes. Some other monitors had new articles and alerts of potential disturbances.

“Just, uh, keep an eye on some of the security cameras we have posted around. See if you catch any suspicious activity.”

“Were you expecting something to happen tonight? Did you get a tip?”

“No, just doing our due diligence to keep everything in line.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion and you gave Miguel a side-eye look. This is what he’s keeping me here to do? To watch some cameras?

The whole time he was talking to you and giving you instructions, he did not glance at you, just busily pressing buttons and typing something.

About 10 minutes went by in absolute silence with Miguel working and you … “working”. Getting bored and tired on your feet, you start leaning around the table and let out a sigh. Miguel looks at you over his shoulder but turns back to his work. Another 10 minutes go by before he asks, “So you and Hobie are friends?”

Surprised by the question and surprised he even spoke, you responded, “Yeah, I would like to think so. He’s nice, I like hanging out with him.”

“You two have gotten close?”

Getting confused by his line of questioning, you give him a weird look that he doesn’t see. “I mean, I don’t know about close. We hang out with Gwen too. It’s usually the three of us.”

A few silent beats fall between the two of you before he responds, “I didn’t know you were visiting different universes.”

“Hmm, I’m not really. Besides my own home universe, I’ve only just been to Hobie’s. I haven’t seen Gwen’s though not even she goes back there.”

Again he doesn’t reply immediately and the comfortable silence continues.

“I would advise you to stay away from Hobie. He could be a bad influence on you or something.” He mumbles so quietly that you almost didn’t catch it.

“I’m sorry?” You asked, turning your body full to look at him now.

“I said ‘you should stay’-”

“No, I know what you said. But I don’t understand why. What’s going on with you? Are you stressed about something? Do you not like Hobie? Because Hobie has been nothing but nice to me and he’s a friend. He keeps me safe even when I visit his universe.”

“And exactly how many times have you visited his universe, hmm? You two seem pretty comfortable flying across universes together.” It was his turn to turn and face you. Standing at his full height, the tops of your head barely came up to his collar bones.

“I-I- … I don’t know. A few times I guess? 4? Maybe 5 times? But-”

“5 times?! You met him not even two weeks ago and you’ve already been hanging around him that much?” You were trying to explain to ease whatever caused his temper to rise. However, with every response you give, it only seems to anger him more. With every response, he is taking a step closer to you and walking you backward.

“I guess? But he’s my friend! And I’ve always been safe if that’s the issue. He keeps me safe. I know I’m not a Spider-Man like you but-” Miguel ignores your argument and cuts you off again.

“Right right and he keeps you safe which I am sure he is more than happy to do seeing as how he’s always getting up in your space. And what exactly do you do in his universe? You run around town like some hooligans and go back to your home universe when it’s late enough to be considered morning?”

“Ah- No, we hang out at his place and have dinner and stuff, I don’t know! And when it gets late I just stay over at his place!”

“Stay over?! What? Like overnight? He’s got guest rooms now? He’s hosting house parties?” There’s sarcasm dripping in his words but your brain was running too fast to notice.

“N-No he doesn’t. He’s not. He just lets me use his bed when I’m too tired to go home and I’d just wake up the next morning to come here.”

All of a sudden, he takes one last step forward and you take one step back but your backside hits the table. He drops his hands on either side of you, exactly like how Hobie had you pinned against your desk earlier but this is different. This feels different. The tension is palpable. With Hobie, it was friendly and playful. With Miguel … it feels like you’re getting hunted and just got caught.

“He what?” Miguel’s voice isn’t loud and angry anymore. No. It’s low and deadly. His question comes out always like a whisper as he leads in so close that your noses are practically touching.

“I don’t understand what’s happening. Hobie is just my friend. Why does this feel like it’s a problem?” You whisper. Miguel doesn’t reply. He simply stares at you with such intensity in his eyes, you’re surprised you didn’t evaporate. Suddenly, he’s looking at your lips. Acting almost instinctively, your tongue shoots out to wet your lips and his eyes immediately shoot back up to yours. There’s the intensity in his eyes again, only this time, it’s different. Definitely not anger.

Suddenly, an alarm from Miguel’s monitor goes off and the sound is thunderous in the silent chamber.

After a few beats, Miguel drops his forehead on yours, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. The whole time, you never take your eyes off of him. Your heart is beating so fast and the blood is rushing in your ears. Very abruptly, he pushes off of the table and whirls around to the monitor. He turns off the alarm and starts typing away, completely ignoring you. Slowly pushing up from the table, you turn back to your own monitor and stare blankly at the empty alleyways and random buildings.

Where there was comfortable silence before, now, the silence is deafening.

“You should go home Y/N. I can finish this up on my own.”

Not sure of how to act or how to respond, you slowly climb down from the platform without saying a word and fetch your things.

“And I mean home, Y/N. To your home universe. To your own house. To your own bed.”

Looking back up the dais, Miguel is still facing his monitors, not even looking at you when he talks. Hitching your bag higher up on your shoulder, you respond, “Of course. Goodnight, Miguel. And … for what it’s worth … he always slept on the couch.”

And with that, you take off running down the hall and teleport back home.

#fanfiction #fanfic #spiderman imagine #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fanfic #spiderman #spider man #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara one shot #hobie #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderman x reader #spider man 2099

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 5 months

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We Were Built to Fall Apart and Fall Back Together

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Setting: Alexandria (pre-Saviors war) Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; blood, injury, illness; allusions to self harm; canonical character death Summary: After Denise's death, you notice something is terribly off about Daryl, but he won't let you close enough to find out what. A/N: This novel was written for @darylssunshine and my lord, I'm worried that I got too carried away and that's just a ton of rambling and ooc Daryl. 😢

*gif is not mine

Something was wrong with Daryl.

You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you just knew he wasn’t himself. Well, completely himself. He was amped up and ready to fight, ready to take revenge. Everyone seemed to understand why. He had watched Denise die, harbored that guilt upon his own shoulders alone. He had conceded and let her go with him and Rosita. It was his fault that she had been taken from the community, taken from Tara. Of course, that wasn’t true. The blame lay solely on the Saviors, but Daryl was nothing if not self deprecating and stubborn. That—the willingness to take full responsibility, to beat himself down—was commonplace. However, there was something else.

Something in the way he communicated, a quieter tone than usual. Of course, no one else picked up on it. No one else spent 99% of their time with him. No one else had conversations with him in bed, heard him vent or laugh or just talk when everything else was still and quiet. Not like you. No one else heard the different octaves, the slight trembles. To everyone else, he was just talking.

Something in the way he carried himself. Daryl had a specific gait. Nearly silent footfalls when stealth or care was needed but in everyday activities, his boots pounded the ground. He walked with purpose, long and even strides. Not with a slight drag of his left leg. So minuscule that no one seemed to notice. Except you.

Something in the way he ate. Daryl had a healthy appetite. He shoveled food into his mouth like someone would take it from him at any moment. Maybe someone had before. He gave it up willingly when supplies were scarce and he feared the kids would do without. Supplies weren’t at a surplus but no one was starving, yet no one seemed to notice that Daryl wasn’t eating. No one except you.

You had reasons to worry that others had no way of being aware. Daryl wasn’t coming to bed at night. Two nights in a row. You found him on the couch the next morning. That was concerning in itself. Daryl up at the ass crack of dawn Dixon was still asleep when you came downstairs. Once he was awake, there was no conversation. Not a word spoken. He’d forego his coffee and anything to eat and just trudge out the door.

“So.” You leaned back against the wall next to him, narrowing your eyes when he moved to the side just the slightest bit.

“So?” He crossed his arms, hands tucked away in his armpits.

“What’s wrong with you?” You pressed, forcing yourself to keep your distance. He angled his head toward you but kept his eyes on the meeting.

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with me.” He rasped in a whisper so quiet that you needed to lean closer to hear him properly. You answered with a simple mhm. There was no point in pursuing the conversation there.

“Has anyone taken inventory since—” Rick let the words filter out, dropping his head with a sniff. “Tara isn’t up for it but we need to know what we’re running low on and—”

“I can do it.” Carol volunteered, standing and smoothing her pants and shirt. “I’ll go now. We know there was quite a list when she—” Even Carol couldn’t seem to muster the words.

“Died.” Daryl finished, his voice rough. Everyone looked at him, a variety of expressions. “What? No one else seems to be able to say it. She was murdered. Killed. Dead.”

Rick was quiet for a moment, as were you, waiting for the next thing someone would say.

“That isn’t on you Daryl. It was the Saviors, and she wanted—”

“The hell it ain’t.” The archer snapped, pulling his body from against the wall with the slightest stagger. You squinted, surveying the room. No one noticed. Of course they didn’t. “I took ‘er out there. Knew better but did it anyway.” He was challenging them, daring anyone to try and take some of the weight of guilt from his shoulders. When no one spoke up, he tapped his fist against the side of his leg and stalked out of the room.

Then it was all eyes on you. A wordless game of who’s gonna check on Daryl was set in motion.

“I’ve got him.” You nodded and left the room. He wasn’t in the foyer and unlikely to be upstairs in a house that wasn’t his own, so you opened the door and traipsed down the porch steps. “Daryl?” A look to the left and then to the right revealed nothing but empty evening streets in Alexandria.

You knew almost everything there was to know about the archer. Including that if he did not want to be found, you would not find him.

You did the only thing you could. You sighed and headed home, hoping just maybe he’d be there, though the odds were against you.

The house was dark when you got there, which was nothing new. Even if he was home, he could move around in the shadows like a ghost. Opening the door, you stepped inside and closed it behind you, opting to leave the lights off for the moment.

“Daryl, are you home?”

Nothing.

Another sigh as you removed your boots and padded into the kitchen, this time, turning on the lights. Coffee would have been the better option but your nerves won out with their persuasive argument for alcohol. You had two bottles of wine that you used in cooking—well, that was the intended use.

Glass poured and book in hand, you turned off the light and perched yourself on the couch, lighting a candle to illuminate the words on the pages while you waited for him. Even if you fell asleep, you’d know if he came home. If the apocalypse had made you into anything, it was a light sleeper. You’d know the moment that door opened.

It never did.

When morning came without a trace of your boyfriend, you passed into another level of worry, the part where the scenarios came intruding upon your usually levelheaded thoughts.

What if he had gone after the Saviors alone? What if he had been hurt? What if he had been—

No. That thought, you simply refused to entertain. Boots on and weapons holstered, you stepped outside. Carol was walking toward your house, but before you could ask if she had seen the missing archer, she was looking up with a hand hovering over her eyes to block the sun. A glance toward you but she remained silent.

Jogging down the steps, you joined her, shielding your eyes and looking toward the roof of your house.

Daryl was perched there, knees drawn up with his arms wrapped around them. He was just watching the townsfolk move about without a word or movement. You worked your jaw back and forth to stifle the annoyance of having him above your head all night while you waited for him until the candle had burned out.

“I got this. Thanks, Carol. Did you need anything else?”

She was still watching her best friend but reluctantly turned to you. “We’re running low on nearly everything in the infirmary. Gauze, gloves, ointments, antibiotics, painkillers, and the meds some of the people need to manage health issues. Would you—”

There was a loud thud several feet away, Daryl straightening—staggering and tilting but yes, straightening—from his jump. “I got it. Make a list.”

“Daryl, maybe you should—” Carol started.

“Make a list.” Was all he said before walking up the steps and into the house.

You started to speak but the other woman was faster. “Something’s not right with him.” She had crossed her arms and was staring at your front door. “He isn’t eating. He’s walking differently and there’s something about his tone.” You blinked at her. “What? Just because you’re sleeping with him, you think the best friend doesn’t notice these things too?” Carol smiled, squinting against the sun.

“Touché.” You conceded with a nod.

“I’ll make the list but go with him. You and someone else. No matter what he says.” Her hand came to rest on your shoulder and squeeze.

“You know I don’t listen to what he says anyway.” You placed your hand over hers and brought it down with a squeeze of your own, separating as you walked toward your house.

Your bag was on a hook by the door, all unused necessities still inside. You merely needed to replenish and pack up some extra clothes. As your boot touched the bottom step of the staircase, you heard the tap begin to run in the kitchen. You carefully hung your bag on the banister post.

Rounding into the room, you found Daryl grasping the edge of the kitchen island, arms outstretched with his head hanging between them. His hair was draped like a curtain, shielding any view of his face. The glass he’d filled sat untouched in front of him.

As you approached, it became apparent that he hadn’t realized you were even in the room. That was beyond concerning. Daryl had an eagle eye and the hearing of an owl. He should have heard you the moment you entered the house.

“Daryl.”

He didn’t startle, just simply squeezed the countertop’s edge. “Take it you’re goin’ too.” He rasped, his words followed by a harsh sniff.

“Of course, I am.” You stepped closer and reached for his hand, your fingertips barely making it halfway before he moved. “Daryl, wait.”

“G’on an’ get ready. Wanna head out, maybe be back ‘fore dark.”

“Listen, I know someth—”

“Take whatcha need in case we gotta make it a overnight thing.” His own bag was on the hook beside where yours had been moments ago. Daryl snatched it as he opened the door and headed outside.

“Stubborn fucking mule.” You grumbled, jerking your bag from the post on your way up the stairs.

You had been in the car for 45 minutes and Abraham had not stopped talking. You loved the big red gorilla but sometimes, he needed several layers of duct tape over his mouth. From the way Daryl was massaging his left temple as he drove, you would need to find that tape or the other man would be riding in the trunk very soon.

“Really puts a burr in my saddle what they did to Denise.”

Shit.

Daryl’s hand tightened around the steering wheel, his knuckles going white. The fingers rubbing his temple clenched into a fist. His jaw tightened and ticked. Abe had already been grating his nerves and it seemed the other man had severed the last one completely.

Time to defuse.

You cleared your throat. “So, according to the map, we should take the next right.” With a grunt, the archer followed your directions.

By the time he shifted the car into park, your worry for his well being had reached a crescendo. His eyelids were drooping. A thin sheen of sweat was glistening on any patch of skin you could see. And when he opened the door, he put his boots on the ground and sat for a moment before grasping the top of the door to pull himself up and out.

Something was definitely wrong with Daryl.

He opened the back door and grabbed his bag, slamming it before Abraham could even blink.

“Alright, little lady. What seems to have his panties in a bunch?”

Maybe you really could find some duct tape.

“I have no clue.” You watched Daryl light a cigarette behind the car while he scoped out the strip mall for any signs of danger. Even while standing still, he listed sideways and struggled to right himself. “But it’s nothing good.”

“I’m gonna go on ahead. You check on your dreamboat. See if he needs to sit this one out.” The large man nodded, climbing out of the cramped backseat.

“Oh. Yeah. Right. Cause that’s gonna work.” Abraham just grinned at you and got a clear view of your middle finger in return. Your eyes settled on your archer once again, now leaning against the trunk much as he had the counter that morning. Abraham stopped without getting too close, cracking some joke that at least made himself smile before moving on. Daryl simply shook his head.

Your lips trilling, you finally opened the door and climbed out. Working your arms through the straps of your bag, you closed the car door and rounded the back as Daryl’s hand fell away from his stomach. He caught your narrowed gaze and grunted, pushing himself away from the car.

“S’get this over with.” He grumbled, stalking away at a slower than usual pace. You didn’t even have to walk briskly to catch up as you normally would.

“You—pulled a muscle?” You said in your best game show contestant voice. The man didn’t stop but his eyes slid over to regard you quizzically without turning his head.

“What?”

“You have a migraine?”

“Y/N.”

“Indigestion?”

“Stop.”

“Stubbed your toe?”

“Y/N.”

“A goddamn splinter in your left asscheek? Would you just stop and tell me what’s going on?!” You reached for his shoulder but he sidestepped straight into a graceless stagger, expression pinched and angry.

“Told ya already! Ain’t nothin’ wrong! Just wanna get this done so we can get back to focusin’ on those assholes that killed ‘er!” With a groan of frustration, he pulled his gun from the holster, but you didn’t miss the pain that flashed across his face. “Would ya just—just go that way? Ya got the list. M’gonna see if there’s anythin’ else we can use.”

“Daryl, I know you. Would you please—”

His arm straightened out past your head, pointing a finger on the direction Abe had gone. “G’on.”

Your nostrils flared but you spun on your heel and stomped away. The insufferable archer couldn’t possibly understand how well you knew him if he thought he was hiding anything by being a jerk. Daryl had three types of anger: angry, homicidal rage, and—the one you and everyone else saw the most—deflection. He would use the fear of provoking his ire to keep anyone from detecting that something wasn’t right, whether that be physical or emotional.

Daryl was grieving and guilt-laden. No one could ever make him feel worse than he could on his very own, but per your observations over the last couple of days, that wasn’t the entire issue. There was a physical ailment of some sort. Precarious steps, sweating, exhaustion, poor appetite.

Your stomps slowed to a crawl before your feet were just no longer moving. Abraham had caught sight of you by then, nodding that he had located the pharmacy, but you didn’t notice.

“Oh, my god.” He would have told you, right? You, of all people. There’s no way he wouldn’t have, he wouldn’t have risked everyone. You were already running back to the spot where you had gone your separate ways, the tall redhead’s boots pounding the pavement behind you, but Daryl was no longer there. Not that you thought he would have just stood there anyway.

“What’s all hubbub, bub?” Abe called from just behind you.

You didn’t answer. You continued to take corners and weave in and out of alleys between shops, your gun drawn but not even poised to aim. “Daryl?” You called near frantically. The groans and snarls of hungry corpses grew nearer, sending your heart pumping into overdrive. “Daryl?!”

Rounding into an alley, his name was on the tip of your tongue when a tight grip on your bag yanked you inside the door you had nearly passed right up. With a squeak, you made to raise your weapon only for an overly warm hand to push it back down.

“Y’soundin’ the dinner bell out there or somethin’? S’gotten into ya?” Daryl snapped in a harsh whisper. His face was inches from yours, his hand still folded over your own. His skin was on fire.

Oh god, no.

Abraham’s shadow blocked most of the light from outside the storage room, your words spilling into the shadows. “Daryl, are you bit?” His hand was snatched away as if you had slapped it.

“The fu—no, I ain’t bit. Y’think I wouldn’a told ya?” Daryl hissed, turning to head further into the building.

“I’m beginning to wonder.” You laughed wryly. He just kept walking. “Then you’re sick.”

There came a frustrated groan from the silhouette walking in front of you in the poorly lit area. “Give it a rest, would ya?”

“You have a fever. I felt it. You’re burning up.”

“S’my blood pressure hittin’ the roof cause you’re pissin’ me off!”

You bit your tongue when Abraham chuckled from somewhere behind you. “Who needs the good ol’ boob tube when you’ve got relationships in the end times?” You barely stopped yourself from aiming your gun at the man. There’s a time and a place was a concept with which Abe was drastically unfamiliar.

“Would you stop waking please? I know you’re sick or—or you’re hurt. Just talk to me. I only—”

“M’a grown ass man, Y/N! Don’t need ya tryin’a be my mama!” He grabbed the handles to a set of heavy metal doors, but didn’t try to open them yet. “Get on back an’ find the pharmacy. Gonna meetcha there.”

“Daryl—”

A large hand came to lay heavily on your shoulder, fingers squeezing with a tenderness that brought tears springing to your eyes. “Come on, chickadee. I think we should get on over to that pharmacy.” Daryl was still gripping the handles, his head bowed, the door remaining unopened. “Come on now.”

You swallowed hard with the first step back, wiping angrily at your eyes as you turned to push past Abraham. “Let’s get the shit and go home.” Stepping outside, you squinted against the sun and glanced to your right where the walkers shuffled by in the back alley. They hadn’t noticed you. When a solid thud sounded from behind you, there was no hesitation in rolling your eyes. “Jesus, Abe. Be quiet.”

“Wasn’t me.”

You twisted to regard him, finding thick eyebrows raised while he shook his head. “Daryl.” His name came out across a breath. You pushed past the large man for a second time and navigated through the dimness to where you had left the archer at the door. A dark heap laid against the bottom of the entryway, unmoving. “Daryl? Oh god, Abe!”

“Ssh. The walkin’ uglies are gettin’ closer. We should—oh, shit.”

You were already on your knees, feeling the dry heat of fever in Daryl’s skin when you took his face into your hands. He was no longer sweating; simply burning. “Daryl. Daryl, please open your eyes.” With frantic movements, you started patting him down, moving clothing to examine his skin. “Abe, the flashlight.”

The redhead scrambled to shrug off his bag and pull the device from the side pocket. He clicked it on. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Hold it steady.” Parting Daryl’s vest, you began unbuttoning his shirt. “Turn your head.”

“I’ve seen a man’s chest before, darlin’.”

“Turn your fucking head, Abraham!” You shouted, flinching when you heard a snarl that was much closer than the rest. “Give me the light please.” Your left hand held Daryl’s shirt closed, the buttons undone, while your right hand extended and gestured with urgency. “Please, Abe. Give me the light and go see how many there are—if you can handle them.”

He glanced between you and Daryl, obviously not understanding but did as you asked. Once he had walked out of sight, you lowered your head with a long exhale. Over the months you had known him, Daryl had allowed himself to feel less and less defined by his scars. That didn’t mean he wanted to parade them in front of everyone, even if the individual had already seen them. You and Carol seemed to be the only exceptions to that rule.

The flashlight held beneath your chin, you parted his shirt, the culprit for his symptoms staring you in the face. A bandage covered the lower left side of his abdomen. It was clean but the skin just around the edges was an angry red. Nostrils flaring, you peeled away the gauze and then let go, the tape resticking to small areas. The flashlight fell to the concrete floor.

“You are un-fucking-believable, Daryl Dixon.”

The bullet wound was still open, torn and gaping from his own success in removing the slug, lined with crusts of yellow and a sickly shade of green inside. You knew what this was, this was his punishment. For himself. The burns for Beth. An untreated bullet wound for Denise. He wanted to hurt until he made it right.

“Goddamn you.” You sobbed, removing the bandage entirely. Bowing over him, you let your forehead drop against his chest, shoulders shaking with tears you no longer cared to suppress. No. No, you couldn’t break down. Daryl needed help.

Abe wasn’t fighting. Aside from the distant snarls and scrapes of shuffling feet, you heard nothing.

“Abe?” You called as loudly as you dared, sniffling, your face wet with tears and snot. “Abraham?”

“I’m here, girly.” He appeared within your sight, gore-covered knife in hand. “Got the ones outside.

“He was shot. It’s—it’s infected.” You scrambled to close Daryl’s shirt and picked up the flashlight, the beam trembling. “Would you—I need to go to the pharmacy. We’ll need the meds—everything that’s there. Can you stay with him?” He was shaking his head before you even asked.

“I’m gonna take care of that pharmacy. Then we’ll load up tall, dark, and broody. We’ll go home and get him all fixed up, you hear me?” He called your name quietly and crouched down when you just kept staring at Daryl. “He’s gonna be just fine. He’s got you lookin’ after him.” Your wet gaze fought to meet Abraham’s, finally succeeding even as your eyes danced and darted in a valiant attempt to maintain it.

The inhale trembled just as harshly as the exhale. “Okay. Okay, take our bags, too. You’ll need the extra space. I’ll, um—I’ll barricade the door after you go. Shave and a haircut when you come back?”

“Two bits.” He grinned, rising to his full height. Your fingers grazed over Daryl’s jaw as you stood, loath to leave him for even that meager amount of time. Abe checked outside the entrance, each way, and turned around to walk backwards as you started closing the door. “If I’m not back in five minutes, just wait longer.” You rolled your red-rimmed eyes and shut him out.

Searching the room with the flashlight lifted, you found a desk. It looked sturdy, heavy. You really weren’t even sure you could move it alone. Placing the flashlight on the floor, you pushed against the side, grunting and huffing between your sniffles and hiccups, but it was all for naught. The thing didn’t budge.

“Fuck.” Spinning, you pressed your back against it and used your legs, finally getting the damn thing to slide, albeit noisily. You couldn’t manage getting it firmly against the door, but nothing was getting by it and that’s what counted. Snatching up the light, you grabbed one of a stack of metal folding chairs and ran back to Daryl’s side. He hadn’t moved an inch, but his head was rolling back and forth against the concrete.

“Y/N—”

Longing to just sit next to him, you stood the flashlight on its end next to your feet and jammed the chair beneath the door handles. The dead weren’t coordinated or cognizant and could only open the door by accident but it was possible and you were taking no chances.

Back on your knees, you leaned over him, smoothing back his sweat-slick hair. “I’m here, love. I’m mad as hell but I’m here.” The heat radiating from him made your stomach churn. You pressed a palm to his cheek, his forehead, flipping your hand over to do the same.

“S’my fault. She’s dead—gone an’ s’on me.” He started to sit up, finding he couldn’t, either too weak or in too much pain. Daryl had a high tolerance for hurt, so it was likely the former.

“Ssh. Stay still.” His hand moved toward the exposed wound. You caught his wrist and brought his palm to your lips, kissing and lowering it back to the floor. “Nothing’s your fault.”

“You’re s’posed to say that cause ya love me.”

You laughed quietly. “Maybe, but I mean it. She wanted to go, Daryl.” Petting his hair in tender strokes, you watched his eyes struggle to remain open. They were only slits of bloodshot and blue as it was. There was a thud scrape thud outside.

“You’re pretty.” Daryl slurred, head turning to chase your touch when you pulled away to twist toward the alley door, blocked by several shelves and other junk. No coordinated knock, no light seeping inside. Walkers.

“That’s the fever talking.” Out of an unfortunate practiced habit, you checked his pulse, finding it thready, too fast.

“Nah. Always pretty. Even when I ain’t cookin’ from the inside out.” His eyes were closed, rolling beneath the lids.

“And you’re handsome. Even when you are cooking from the inside out.” You mused, tracing his jaw with a fingertip. The corner of his mouth ticked, as close to a smile as you were likely to get. “Abraham went to clear the pharmacy. Gonna get you all cleaned up. Head home. You’re gonna be in a bed for a while.”

“I like the bed.” You were wrong. Now, he was smirking, eyelids fluttering. “‘Specially when you’re in it too.” His hand left the cold floor and landed lightly on your right hip, fingers weakly flexing. “Could take advantage’a me right now.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed in earnest, “now I know it’s the fever talking.” It was a true statement. Daryl almost never initiated physical intimacy, but he also never turned you down when you craved it.

When your relationship entered into sexual territory, you thought he was only doing it because he wanted you to be happy, guilt had consumed you. As if his Y/N sense had tingled, he had reassured you, promised that he wanted it too but just didn’t know how to show it, how to come to you with his own needs. He was a patient and gentle lover, contrary to his rough and rugged exterior. He was comfortable showing you that side, that affection, behind closed doors. That’s all you could ever ask for, ever would ask for.

“Wanna kiss ya.” His hand carved a trail up your side, fingertips grazing your breast but not lingering. His hot palm settled on the side of your neck. “I love ya. Gimme a kiss.”

Smiling brightly at this vulnerability and feverish show of true emotion, feelings that would never receive a voice— even with you—you leaned down and brushed your lips over his. His mouth trembled as he began to shiver, chills setting in from his body fighting the infection, fever burning unchecked. “Easy, tiger.” You cooed against his mouth. “I love you too. You stay in bed when we get back and I’ll give you whatever you want, but for now, I just need you to rest for me, okay?”

“Whatever my girl wants, she gets.” He grinned, silly and lopsided, as you pulled away for a clear look at his face. Even in this state, you had not a single doubt that if Abe returned at that very moment, Daryl would morph into a scowling, grumpy asshat. Oh, how you were going to tease him later. He deserved it for hiding that injury from you.

Minutes ticked by, and it felt like hours. How long had Abraham been gone? Daryl was trying to roll over, attempting to curl in on himself, but you managed—with frighteningly little effort—to keep him on his back. When he groaned, arching his upper half with a hand trying to press against the wound, you caught his wrist again. “Ssh ssh ssh, leave it alone. I know it hurts but it’s infected enough as it is.” He didn’t appear to have any walker blood on his hands from what you could see with the dim flashlight beam but you’d take no chances.

“M’sorry I lied to ya.” Now he just sounded miserable, your heart clenching and aching despite your frustration.

“I know you are. You can make it up to me later. Right now, I just need you to rest and hang on, okay?” Your fingers carded through his hair, catching on tangles and snarls. You’d help him wash it later, give him the sweet attention he so desperately needed while hurting so deeply, physically and emotionally.

He went quiet after that, still trying to reposition, whimpering when you wouldn’t allow it.

“I know, baby.” His pain so bare, ailing from the infection, you could hardly find it within you to be angry with him. He had punished himself enough. He didn’t need the weight of your irritation on top of it. You would need to talk to him, but you’d have to hold back, douse that flicker of anger that he didn’t allow you to help him carry the emotions that were weighing on him so heavily.

Knock knock, na-knock knock.

“Abe.” You whispered, beginning to rise to your feet when you felt a weak tug at the bottom hem of your shirt. Daryl’s eyes were wide and unfocused, the pretty blue dull from fever.

“Don’t go.”

With a sorrowful look of apology, you worked his fingers loose, lifting his hand to your mouth to kiss his knuckles. “It’s okay. I’ll be right back. Not even leaving this room.” He didn’t respond, but allowed you to lower his hand back onto the floor. Standing, you quickly crossed the distance to the door, placed your back against the desk to slide it away. You barely achieved it, feeling wrung out from Daryl’s openness under the influence of his feverish state.

“We hit the jackpot.” The redheaded man held up two bags, the contents nearly spilling out. The one on his back was equally as full.

“Did you see fever reducers? Tylenol? Ibuprofen? Aspirin?” You grabbed the side of the bag closest to you, nearly tipping it too far in your haste. Abe was talking behind you, reblocking the door while you walked back to Daryl, your hand sifting through the bag. Come on. You weren’t looking while you walked, your body on autopilot while your mind concentrated on getting your boyfriend what he needed. When you could see a yellow label toward the bottom, just barely visible beneath the tubings, fluids, and other pills, you nearly shouted in relief. Bayer Genuine Aspirin. “Thank god. Abe, your canteen.”

You were already opening the bottle, punching through the seal. “Here.” Abraham tapped the container against your shoulder. With two tablets already in your hand, you took hold of the canteen and motioned for him to unscrew the lid.

“Thanks.” In the moments of your absence, Daryl had finally succeeded in turning onto his side, legs drawn up, body quaking. “Daryl.” There was no room on his opposite side. He was too close to the doors. “Daryl, I need you to take some meds for me.” The only reply was a groan while he pulled his knees closer to his chest only to jerk them away with a choked off shout, the movement aggravating the wound. “Daryl.”

“Need me to, uh—” Abe waved a hand toward the whole of Daryl. You knew what he meant. Even as you nodded, you could already hear the grumbled complaints about you allowing him to be manhandled. “Okay, Prince Charming, just need to sit you up a little for these pills. Then we’ll get the fuck out of here.” He started with the left arm, sliding a hand beneath it to roll the archer just enough to work his other hand underneath the opposite arm. “Upsy daisy.” Abraham moved slowly, his eyes telling a tale of worry when Daryl grimaced and groaned. “He’s hotter than a jalapeno’s ass.” His voice was quiet but there was an urgency there. “Give him those pills and then we gotta go.”

He was right. If the fever continued to climb, there was the risk of febrile seizures. No one wanted that to happen. “Here, take these.” You pressed one of the pills to the archer’s bottom lip, a spasm of pain crossing his face.

“Ain’t takin’ your stupid pills.” Daryl snapped—damn near literally—jerking out of Abe’s hold just to fall back into it. You reeled back, just from the sudden movement, not out of fear. Never fear. Not with him.

“Daryl, stop.” You walked on your knees to get a little closer, trying again. “I need to get started on getting that fever down.” Chapped lips pulled away from teeth in a snarl, his hand coming up to slap yours. The tablets disappeared into the shadows. “Daryl, what the—”

“Said I ain’t takin’ your fuckin’ pills, Merle!”

Your breath stuttered, saucer eyes flitting up to Abraham and back down. “It’s Y/N, Daryl. Merle—Merle isn’t here.” The canteen was placed next to the bag of medical supplies, keeping a few feet of distance between that and Daryl, in case he lashed out again.

“Think I dunno s’goin’ on?” Your eyes slid up to Abraham as he lowered himself behind your archer, large hands relocating to grip Daryl’s biceps. “I take the drug’a the week an’ you steal the rent money to get more! Ain’t fuckin’ happenin’!”

“It’s just aspirin. And it’s just me and Abe here with you.” He tried to lean toward you, halted by the other man’s strong grip. He was too weak to do much about it. “Merle’s not here. Do you remember where he is?” You risked reaching toward him, fever-bright eyes tracking every movement right up until your palm rested on his shin.

His breathing picked up as he lowered his head. It hung forward with his hair acting as a protective curtain. “Dead.” He rasped. “Merle’s dead.” You would have asked Abraham to let him go but he’d likely topple over without the support.

“I’m sorry.” You squeezed his leg, tilting your head when his whole body tensed.

“I hitcha.” The tone of his voice was both incredulous and remorseful. “Y/N, m’so—”

“Mm mm. None of that. You’re hurt. You’re sick. You’re burning up.” There was a sound from behind the double doors. “Daryl.”

“I’ll take ‘em.”

You didn’t wait for him to change his mind. Shaking two more tablets from the bottle, you ducked your head to encourage him to look at you, the small white tablet was pressed against his bottom lip again. “Come on, love.” The second pill was behind your other three folded fingers. That left your other hand free to grab the canteen.

His lips parted just as the first walker scratched against the other side of the doors. With time quickly running out, you pressed the pill past his lips, following it up with the second. You rapidly opened the canteen and brought it to his mouth before he could attempt to dry swallow the meds, smiling approvingly when he tilted his chin upward to allow you to help him. That in itself spoke volumes about his current state.

“Let me just rinse the wound and put some gauze over it and we can go.” Another thump had both you and Abraham looking at each door. “Shit.”

“Shit’s right. I think we’re boxed in.” He was careful when easing Daryl back into a supine position, hovering to make sure you asked nothing else of him. “Take care of him. I’ll go take a look at how deep the shit we have to wade through is.”

“Okay.” You nodded, digging through the bags. If there was nothing else, the water from the canteen would have to do until you could get him back to Alexandria. The wound needed disinfecting horribly, but your options were limited. Your lip was becoming sore, indented from your teeth pressing into it while you searched. “Please, please, please.” When your hand wrapped around the bottle of rubbing alcohol, you could have sobbed. Daryl was barely holding on to consciousness when you turned to him, breaking the seal on the bottle cap. “This is gonna suck, baby.”

He didn’t answer. You didn’t really expect it of him. What you did expect was the almost violent reaction the moment the cold burn of the liquid washed over the wound. His eyes flew open with a scream that you were likely to hear in your nightmares. It was easy to catch his shoulder with one hand but keeping him there was another problem entirely. His hands scrambled toward his stomach, fingers clawed as if he could scrape out the lingering sting of the alcohol. Forced to sit the bottle aside, somehow carefully enough not to spill it, you caught his wrists, one and then the other, alternating back and forth to keep his hands away from the festering wound. The doors trembled with the renewed efforts of the dead following the noise.

“Daryl. Daryl, listen to me. I know it hurts but I just cleaned it. It’ll stop soon.” His head fell against your collarbone with an accompanying whimper that made your eyes burn with moisture. “It’ll stop soon.” He was at least cognizant enough to heed your instructions, his hands falling limply to the floor, only for his nails to scrape back and forth over the concrete. “I need to put a dressing over it, cover it until we get home.”

“We’re boxed in.” Abraham said before even rounding the work table that blocked your view of him. “We need to wait it out and hope they move on.”

Your head was shaking back and forth, chin bumping into Daryl’s temple. “We can’t wait. He needs help now.” You had, at some point, wrapped your arms around the shivering archer, rubbing his back as he panted against your neck.

“M’okay.” He whispered, likely not loud enough for Abe to hear.

“No, you’re not.” It wasn’t supposed to come out as authoritative as it did but it had the desired result.

“Okay. M’not.” Daryl agreed, rubbing his fiery forehead against your skin. “M’sorry.”

“Stop it. It’s done.” You let your tone soften. He didn’t need anymore weight on his shoulders. “We just need to get you outta here.”

“You could find a way out. Leave me here, come back for me.” He rasped. You weren’t even sure he was entirely grasping reality at that point. He couldn’t be if he thought that you would ever leave him behind.

“We’re not doing that.” Abe interjected before you could even summon a refusal. “We’ll find a way. Just hang tight, man.” With another glance toward the door you were perched in front of, he looked at you. “You too, buttercup.” With that, he stole the flashlight and began searching the room.

You turned your full attention to Daryl. You couldn’t see enough to cover the wound but maybe you could still fumble through it. Reaching into your bag, you dug through the newly acquired supplies to find the few things you had brought with you. He was moving against you but you thought nothing of it until you heard the distinct clink of his zippo. His hand was vibrating when the flame lit up the small area around you.

“Thank you.” A kiss was pressed against the crown of his head while you relieved him of the lighter and placed it on the floor. The shivering had worsened and you worried again about seizures just as you found the gauze and tape you had brought with you. The rolls were almost spent but you likely had enough to cover the wound at least. “Will you lie back for me?” Daryl nodded silently and let you guide him until he was on his back, body jerking as the cold of the floor seeped through his clothing to cool his feverish skin. His eyes were barely slits.

It was a quick process, the bandage taped down and his shirt buttoned up. Replacing the lid on the bottle of alcohol, you crawled up to sit above him, pulling his head onto your lap. He turned his face against your stomach and sighed as your fingers carded through his hair, massaging his scalp.

“You’ll be okay.” You have to be.

It had to be hours that had passed, Daryl’s skin cooling only to burn again. He was unconscious, restless and moving constantly; head tossing, fingers flexing, legs drawing up only to straighten. How could you have let him get this bad to begin with? You knew something was wrong and you told no one, thought you could deal with it on your own. He was your boyfriend, your person, and you allowed him to suffer.

“Found a air duct.”

You startled, causing Daryl to flinch but not wake. “What?” Abe shined the light above your head, jerking it to have you looking up to a series of large ducts that likely led to other areas of the building, maybe ones that were not surrounded by the dead.

“We can crawl through, find an empty room. Go out a window or a door if there is one.”

The idea was sound except you weren’t sure Daryl could move on his own and dragging him would take longer than you were afraid you could afford. “What about Daryl? He can’t—”

“He’ll have to, or I could go. Bring back help, but those rotters are gonna take down those doors sure as my short and curlies match my head.”

I did not need to know that. Regardless, he was right. There was no other way. The doors beside you were trembling as hard as Daryl, soon to buckle under the weight and efforts of walkers seeking a meal. With a deep breath, you nodded.

“Wake him up.” Abraham ordered softly. “I’m gonna get one of these open.”

Another nod but he was already walking away. Looking down at Daryl, his face completely hidden against your belly, you stroked his cheek. “I need you to wake up.” He shifted and groaned, but didn’t rouse. “Daryl, baby, you’ve got to wake up. We have to get you out of here.”

“M’awake.” His voice was muffled against your flannel, syllables jarring with the shivers wracking his frame. “Where are we?” He took a deep breath while he turned his head, as if he had been suffocating himself against you.

“You don’t remember?” Worry churned in your gut, crawling up into your chest with a sickening grip on your heart.

“Can’t—can’t think.” His eyes struggled to open, face contorted in discomfort. He began trying to sit up, groaning and hissing through his teeth when you helped. His left arm wrapped around his middle as he looked around. “We—we went on a run.”

“Yeah, and we’re kinda trapped.” He snapped his head around to look at you, swaying slightly. “Dead at both doors. Abe found some grated ceiling ducts that run above. We’re gonna crawl through them and find a spot where we can get out.” You licked your lips and leaned toward him to catch his wandering attention. “Can you do it?”

“Ain’t got no choice.” Bracing his abdomen, he shifted to the side, slowly getting his knees beneath him. When you hastily stood, hands on his ribs, he said nothing against the assistance.

“Abe, you get one?” You called.

“Almost.” There was a loud clang. “Strike that. Got one.”

“On our way over.” Daryl was on his feet but still doubled over, trembling so intensely that you weren’t sure his legs would hold his weight. “Let me help.” It wasn’t a request. Firmly taking the wrist of the hand he had braced just above his knee, you pulled his arm over your shoulder. The fever was raging beneath his skin, boiling his blood into vapor. He needed the infirmary. Carol could start an IV. You could wipe him down with cold cloths. He could get antibiotics. The wound would need to stay open until the infection was under control. You could do none of those things until you got him back home. “A little further.” You encouraged, barely looking away from him to where Abe was walking toward you.

“We gotta get while the gettin’s good.” He pulled Daryl’s arm away from you, barely letting the archer’s feet touch the ground as he hauled him toward the duct. There was already a crate waiting to give you all enough height to reach.

“Abe,” you said as you studied the escape route, moving around to gather your bag onto your back and toss Daryl’s up and inside. “I need to go first. Then Daryl, then you.” Daryl was dazed, staring at you but seemingly seeing right through you. “I can scout for a door or window. Daryl behind me. If he struggles, I need you behind him so you can push him along.”

His eyes focusing, the archer squinted. “M’fine. Don’t need no pushin’.”

You stepped forward, his slouch against Abraham bringing him to perfect eye level. “If you say m’fine one more time, you won’t need to worry about walkers, Daryl Dixon.” With a huff, you side stepped them and climbed up on the crate, grabbing the edges and hoisting yourself up. “All I’ve heard is m’fine and ain’t nothin’ wrong for days and now you’re half dead and surrounded by walkers. I swear to god, I’m going to throttle you.” You rambled, not really even caring if he heard you.

Even if he didn’t, Abe did.

“Phew, man. I wouldn’t wanna be you when we get back.” He helped Daryl onto the crate, hands hovering to catch him as the archer began to pull himself up, his arms shaking violently with the effort. Abraham had to duck and let him use his shoulders and back to make it inside.

You crawled forward enough to make room for both men, turning on your side so you could look down to watch. Daryl made it onto his hands and knees, managing to crawl out of the way before he lowered himself gingerly, letting his forehead rest against the cool metal.

“Alright, girly! We’re all in! Let’s get the fuck outta here.”

You turned without a word, crawling forward. The ducting turned to the left and then the right, bringing you just above a herd, all trying to break through the double doors you had just left behind. Your movements were slow and careful, the drag of Daryl’s pack being nails-on-chalkboard loud. You didn’t want to attract attention and have them trying to follow the sound. It was fortunate that the combined groans and snarls concealed the movement above but Daryl was struggling.

You looked back, lifting your arm out of the way to get a clear view. He wasn’t crawling. He was on his belly, hooking his fingers into the holes of the grating below to pull himself forward, pushing with his legs as best he could. Abraham was just behind him, telling stories and jokes with a few words of encouragement in between. You needed to move faster, leave them a little behind so you could find a way out.

“He’s flagging, Y/N.” Abraham called out quietly after a few more minutes of crawling and dragging. You stopped again, and looked back. Daryl was barely pulling himself along, his sick and injured body just having no more of it.

“He’s right here.” The man in question groaned.

“Fuck. Daryl. Daryl, stop.” His body went limp with the exception of his heaving breaths, cheek against grating. “Rest. I’m going to find a way out and I’ll come back.” Abraham nodded from behind the archer, who merely turned his hand with a thumbs up. You left both bags and crawled with purpose, watching the areas below you for walkers, where you would slow down and minimize any sounds. Right, left, left. There were forks in the ductwork. You had to remember how to get back to where you had left the two men. Right, left, left. Your brain repeated as you headed straight. Looking below you, there was a well lit room. It was quiet aside from the distant groans blocked by a door.

Bingo.

You crawled until you found the opening, lifting the thick metal and turning it so you could drop it to the floor with a clang. You stayed still with bated breath. The door did not jar and the sounds remained distant. Lowering to be flat on your belly, you peeked out to get a full view. The room was empty; an office. A decaying body lay in the corner, jeans and a logoed t-shirt with a gun laying on their chest. Poor bastard. The door would lead out into the halls but there were windows. No shadows passed by in the few minutes you offered. When you felt dizzy from hanging upside down, you wiggled backward.

With three quick breaths you let yourself fall out and crash to the floor with a decent thud and a groaned ow. It took a moment to catch your breath, your back protesting as you levered yourself to your feet, quickly devising a strategy. The desk was just as heavy as the one in the warehouse area, sliding and catching on carpet this time rather than the smooth concrete. Somehow, you managed to get it in front of the door.

Climbing onto the desk, you winced at what was bound to be a painful disaster. Keeping your eyes on the edge of the duct, you walked to the far end of the structure. Daryl needs you. Daryl needs you. Daryl needs you. The running start was minuscule but it proved to be enough. While one hand slipped, one latched on and you were dangling from the vent. With nothing and no one beneath you, you had to grab hold with your other hand and pull yourself up.

“I knew I shouldn’t have faked cramps in PE class.” You grunted. The grates in the bottom of the duct made pulling yourself up a little easier once you could reach them. After what seemed like an eternity, you were finally inside and wasted not a single second, moving hastily, almost clumsily. Left. Right. Right.

“Daryl. Abe.” You breathed once they were in sight. Abraham, however, stared back at you with concern, stricken.

“Y/N, I didn’t know what to do.” You shook your head, clueless, and looked at Daryl. He was on his side, breathing in shallow pants. “Turned him on his side, that’s all—”

“Fuck.” Seizure. You crawled past the bags and brushed the hair away from Daryl’s face. The other man was talking, but you didn’t hear him anymore, feeling the inferno beneath the archer’s skin. “We gotta go. You push, I’ll pull.” With Abe’s help, you were able to maneuver the unconscious archer into his back.

You had a bag hanging from each shoulder, giving you even less room to shuffle properly, but you kept moving, tugging under Daryl’s arms while Abraham pushed upward using the sides of the archer’s knees. It was a long and grueling trek with you whispering to him all along the way.

“You’ll be okay.”

Just before you were set to pull him again, he groaned. “Y/N?”

“I’m here.” You let go and leaned over him. “I’m right here. Found a way. Just need to get you there.” He gave a noncommittal hum, blinking open tired eyes when a tear hit his cheek. You could have sworn it evaporated.

“Feel like shit.” He grumbled. Your hands hovered while he made slow work of turning himself over, rising onto his hands and knees.

“Look like it too, man.” Abe teased. Bless him for trying to lighten things up.

“Thanks.” Daryl mumbled, raising his head to meet your eyes. “We goin’ or not?” His entire frame shook.

You wanted to shove more aspirin at him, needed to, but letting him move on his own while he could would get you out of the ducts and closer to the car. “Uh, yeah—yeah, let’s go.” You were actually stuck crawling backwards but it wasn’t the worst thing. It gave you the opportunity to keep an eye on him. He seemed to be doing okay, moving slowly, clumsily, but doing so on his own. In the conscious back of your mind, running on autopilot, you kept up with the ducts. Right. Left. Left. “How’re you doing?”

“Peachy, sunshine. Just peachy.” There was no bite to the words, just exhaustion and pain. “How much further?” He was tiring again, movements becoming even more sluggish. If he stopped for a break, it was likely you and Abraham would be dragging him again.

“Not much.” You looked over your shoulder, backing around the last turn. “Almost there.” The duct began to grow brighter with the sunlight from the windows below through the missing grate. You looked back just in time to not fall out. “Okay, let me go take a look.” Daryl nodded, remaining on all fours even when his arms seemed barely able to take his weight.

You slid one bag at a time off your shoulder and out of the opening. Going out feet-first made it so much easier than the first time. You landed easily and pulled the bags with you toward the windows, checking outside and then listening against the door. You didn’t even hear the walkers from earlier. Maybe they had moved on to where the others were trying to break through.

“It’s clear!” You called up quietly. Before you could offer any insight, Daryl tumbled out of the vent and landed with thud and a sharp exhale. “Jesus, Daryl!” Grabbing beneath his arms, you helped him move out of the way for Abe to tumble out in a similar fashion. “You okay?” You tossed over your shoulder, propping Daryl against the wall to look him over.

“That was a bitch.”

You cracked a smile and nodded at the archer. “He’s fine.” Daryl snorted weakly. His head dropped back against the wall while you busied yourself with finding the aspirin and the canteen. “Here.” His eyes were barely open, reserves spent. “Come on, baby, work with me here. We still have to get you to the car but I need you to take these first.” Sucking in a breath, he raised his head and opened his mouth. He didn’t even try to take them on his own. This is so bad. You weren’t sure if he even knew what was going on, if he would remember anything after collapsing by the doors.

“Gonna need you to get the car, girly.”

“What?” You turned, almost spilling the water on Daryl. “Sorry.” You carried on with getting the pills onto his tongue and holding the container for him while he took two long swallows, turning his head away to let you know he was finished. Brushing back his sweaty hair, you leaned in to kiss his forehead and then joined Abe at the window. “I’m not leaving him.” You focused on where the three of you were in proximity to the car, ignoring the look the taller redhead gave you.

“Listen, I know that, to you, no one will ever be better at taking care of him than you,” when you shot him a look, he held up a hand, “but you’re faster and you can get the car to right there at the end of the alley, I can carry him out. You can’t.”

Crossing your arms, you twisted to look back at your boyfriend. He seemed to be caught somewhere between awake and asleep. His skin was pale in direct contrast to the fevered flush on his cheeks and chest. His eyelids were purplish, lips nearly colorless. You didn’t like it, but it was the most logical option.

“Alright.” You whispered, nodding as if responding to yourself. “Alright.” Turning, you dropped your arms and crouched down beside Daryl, digging through his pockets for the keys. “Daryl.” He hummed but didn’t move. “I’ll be right back, okay?” When you stroked a finger down the edge of his jaw, he leaned into the touch, scowling when it pulled away. “I love you.” You wanted to make sure he knew, just in case; wanted him to hear it.

“Me too, sunshine.” He said breathily, face relaxing. You thought he had passed out but then he inhaled deeply and lifted his head, opening dull, unfocused eyes. “Where are we?” You didn’t answer. Keys acquired, you strode purposefully for the windows and opened the nearest one.

Halfway out, you fixed a warning look on Abraham. “Don’t let anything happen to him.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout him. Just worry ‘bout me if he comes to his senses again and you’re not here. Go on, now.”

There was no way you couldn’t smile—because it was true. It didn’t matter what was happening to Daryl, if you were missing, he was razing everything in his path to find out why and where. He might not actually speak the words I love you but he would show you constantly. You were just fine with that. You didn’t need verbal declarations from a man that had literally almost died for you several times over and then shrugged it off like it was no big deal.

It had been one of those moments that you had bit the bullet, so to speak, and flung yourself into his arms, kissing him breathless. He had turned several shades of red afterward but then things began to change. He was more open with you, wanted to be around you, wanted you to be around him. And then there you were, several months later, and he was yours. You weren’t sure he knew the name of a single woman in Alexandria that wasn’t in your group. He didn’t give any of them a second glance, regardless of how they swooned over him.

Then your thoughts turned to Denise. She hadn’t really been one of your group, not in the beginning but her love for Tara and tenderness toward all of you had integrated her into the circle of survivors you called family. She had always been kind to Daryl. Making sure he ate and had vitamins—even if he said it looked like shit. She wasn’t afraid of him like so many others had been.

It was why he was taking her loss just as hard as Tara was.

Your feet touched asphalt outside the window without a sound, something you had picked up from Daryl. Creeping forward, close to the wall, you leaned around the corner toward the parking lot at the same time as pulling one of your knives from the thigh-sheath. The car was within sight. A quick run over and you’d pull it around. You’d have Daryl home and hooked up to an IV before nightfall. Staying low, you continued to stick close to the outside of the buildings. You would only put yourself out in the open when you needed to make the last sprint. Unfortunately for you, you weren’t paying enough attention to the wall you were sliding against.

The open door caught you by surprise, the walker that stumbled out of it, even more so. “Shit!” The old man barrelled into your side, knocking you into a concrete beam and down to the ground, the side of your face dragging over the rough asphalt while your knife went careening. Using your knee, you kept the body held off of you, one hand smacking away the cold, slimy fingers trying to dig into your skin. Your other hand fumbled for your second knife. Abandoning that endeavor, you concentrated on getting the damn corpse off of you.

With a swift movement, you grabbed the tattered jacket the body still wore and pulled sideways, using the momentum to swing yourself on top of the walker. Obtaining the upper hand, you were able to snatch your knife and drive it through the eye socket with a disgusting squelch. You sat straddled over the body for a moment, catching your breath. The right side of your face burned, the thick coppery scent of blood in the air.

“Asshole.” You pulled the knife free and stabbed it one more time just for pissing you off. With no other immediate threats, you took the chance to snatch up your other knife and resheath it before your boots pounded the pavement all the way to the car. From over the top, you could see the split up sections of the herd wandering the different alleys next to the building. None of them seemed to be heading to where you had come from, but sometimes they were sneaky bastards and you didn’t know until they were on top of you. Glaring daggers at the body you had left on the pavement, you mumbled “case in point.”

Behind the driver's seat, you started the engine and immediately moved toward the alleyway you had exited, throwing the shifter into park. You heard him before you could even get out of the car.

“The fuck ya let ‘er go out alone?!”

“Calm down, amigo. She’s just gonna get the car and bring—”

“Why didn’t you go get the car?!”

“Someone’s gonna need to carry you when you end up eatin’ shit cause you won’t calm the hell down!”

“M’goin’ to get ‘er.”

“I promised her I wouldn't let anything happen to you.”

“Don’t make promises ya can’t keep. Y’should know there ain’t many ya can anymore.” His voice had quietened but you could hear him moving as you got closer. The window opened just as you stepped below it. Grabbing the pane, Daryl started to haul himself out but stopped with a startled shit! and nearly fell back inside. “Don’t fuckin’ do that!” He hissed.

“Was it your turn to ring the dinner bell, loudmouth?” You grinned, only for it to widen when he flipped you off. “Abe! Toss out the bags. I’ll load them while you help him.”

“Ain’t needin’ no help.” Daryl argued, hand pressed against the side of his stomach while he struggled to climb out the window. Abraham was shaking his head fondly and tossing you the bags through the second window. You juggled all three bags at the same time, throwing them into the trunk. A group of two dozen or saw walkers had ventured out of the alley near the body of the one you’d encountered.

“Shit.” You made it back just as Daryl’s boots hit the ground. He staggered sideways and bumped into the opposite wall, panting as if he’d run a marathon. “Idiot, you should have let him help.”

“I got it. M’good.” He straightened and put his hands on his hips then crossed them on the top of his head, trying to catch his breath.

“Baby, you don’t look good.” He didn’t flinch away when you reached for him. It was likely because he had been avoiding your touch to hide the fever, but that cat was long out of the bag. He simply looked miserable, lowering his head when your palm rested against his cheek. “Come on, walkers headed this way.”

Only then did he seem to notice the blood on your face. “What happened?” His overly warm fingers gripped your chin and turned your head while his other hand slapped flat against the wall to keep him upright.

“I’ll tell you on the way.” Smiling gently, you turned toward the car, catching the concerned look that came over Abraham’s face.

“I don’t—well, shit!” He bolted past you and caught Daryl under the arms before he could hit the ground. “Open the door, get in the back and help me get him in.” You didn’t need to be told twice. With the back door open, you watched Abe scoop up the archer in a bridal carry that you’d have to remind the man not to tease Daryl about later. With a nervous glance through the back window, you whined at the closing distance between the walkers and the car.

“Come on, come on.” Abe angled Daryl toward you so you could grab beneath his arms and pull him in with a little help from the other man. He arranged the archer’s legs to hang off the seat while his head was on your lap. The walkers were touching the back of the car by the time Abraham closed the driver’s side door. He said nothing but held a peace sign out the window as the herd grew smaller and smaller in the distance. Finally able to breathe, you kissed Daryl’s forehead and smoothed back his hair. “We’ll be home soon. You’re gonna be okay.”

You were sitting by the window in your room, drinking a hot cup of tea Carol had brought for you after the initial chaos of getting Daryl stable and settled had fizzled out.

There had been two seizures on the way back to Alexandria, his pulse hammering beneath the fire of his skin. Between you and Carol with Rick and Michonne grabbing anything that was needed, an IV was started, Daryl was stripped down and covered with a thin sheet, the wound was debrided, and you had cleaned his skin with cool cloths until the tea was ready.

Carol had gone to do inventory with what hadn’t been used or wouldn’t likely be needed in his recovery, leaving you alone with your archer. Your head fell back against the chair and rolled toward where Daryl lay. The sheet was just above his hip bones, letting air get to the freshly cleaned wound until the inflammation was down enough to be stitched—if it could be at all. His color was a little better, improved after only an hour of fluids.

He groaned, heading lulling toward you, a spasm of pain fluttering over his features before he relaxed again. Abandoning the mug on the window sill, you dragged your exhausted body to sit on the edge of the mattress and wrung out the cloth over the bowl next to the bed. The fever was still present but likely to improve now that he was resting and receiving antibiotics, the fluids keeping him hydrated against what the heat stole from him.

He groaned again, eyelids fluttering but not opening. “Ssh.” You hushed, wiping down his face and neck. “We’re home. We’re safe.” He remained still, but you continued to soothe him. “I’m here, baby.”

He didn’t stir again until deep in the night, eyes blinking open to find you sitting in a chair next to the bed, thumb stroking the top of his hand.

“Y/N.” He croaked, grimacing. Clearing his throat, he tried again with the same result.

“Let me get you some water.” You used your free hand to push against the chair arm but his fingers tightening their hold brought you to a halt. Brow drawing inward, you sat back down.

“M’fi—” He visibly choked down the words at your withering expression. “Yeah. Water, uh—uh, please.” He cleared his throat again and coughed. When his fingers loosened around your hand, you got up and went downstairs.

Carol came in the door while you filled the glass, walking past the kitchen before stepping backwards to peek her head in. “Hey.”

Tiredly, you returned the greeting, sitting the glass on the counter as she approached. With a gentleness that you needed, she rubbed circles on your back.

“Go easy on him.”

You tossed your head back with a sigh. “I know.” Leaning forward onto your elbows, you rubbed your hands over your face. “I’m just so angry with him, Carol. He could’ve died.” Her soft ministrations continued.

“You both need some rest. He needs to heal and you need to forgive him.”

With a smile that was hard to summon through your exhaustion, you picked up the glass and took her hand, squeezing it before letting go. “I already did.”

Your feet dragged with each step up the stairs, finding Daryl still awake when you entered the bedroom. “Can you sit up?”

“Think so.” His voice scraped across his vocal chords and he winced. His arms shook but you waited him out, letting him do it himself since he seemed to be fully aware.

“Here.” His hand trembled but he managed to drink on his own as well.

“Better?” You took the glass, sitting it on the bedside table. He responded with a quiet mhm and leaned forward so you could pile the pillows up behind him. “Daryl.” You could see the dread in his expression.

“M’sorry.” He picked at the skin around his thumbnail, looking down at his lap.

“I know. Daryl, look at me.” You caught his wrist as his thumb was in route to his mouth. Swallowing hard, he looked the other way entirely. “Baby, look at me.” The flush that was already present on his face grew darker, but he finally acquiesced to your request. “I’m not mad at you, but you scared me.”

“I know.”

You leaned toward him and brushed back his hair. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. I know what happened, it—it hurt, but Daryl, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Why ain’t it, Y/N? Shouldn’a took her out there. Shouldn’a—” His voice cracked.

“It was her choice to go. She wanted to go.” Your hand left his hair to rest against his cheek. He absently leaned into the touch but didn’t move when you saw the realization flitter across his face. “You took a bullet to try and stop them. You did all you could.”

“Wasn’t enough.” He whispered, turning his head away from your palm. You felt anger rising up, itching to crawl out of your throat in the form of harsh words. The silence was deafening, the tension smothering. With a deep breath into your nose and out of your mouth, you remembered what you had told yourself.

“You don’t have to carry this alone. I know—I know what you do to—what you allow yourself to go through feels like a penance, but if you’d just let me, I can carry some of that weight.” He chewed his bottom lip, shifting slightly until he winced, his hand almost covering the open wound before he caught himself. “That’s what friends do, Daryl.” When he lowered his head, you ducked to hold his gaze. “It’s what couples do.”

When he released his lip, red and indented from the press of his teeth, his chin wobbled, nose twitching and eyes squinting against the tears that threatened to fall. “Ain’t—” he swallowed and sniffed, turning his head even further from you. “Ain’t yours to carry.”

You didn’t hesitate. “If it weighs on you, then it weighs on me. Let me help you. Let me be there.” Standing, you took the two small steps that brought you to where he sat, your fingers tenderly stroking his cheek before you gripped his chin and willed him to look at you. “Let me love you right.”

You had only seen Daryl cry twice; when he lost Merle and after the self inflicted burns when Beth was taken too soon. He hadn’t yet cried for Denise or for Tara. You weren’t sure he ever would.

Then the dam broke.

It started as a shaky breath, a whimper, but then his head dropped, his shoulders jerking with each sob. You said nothing while walking away, placing a hand on the knob to close the door. Carol was in the hallway, a towel on her arm, heading to shower, when she caught your eye. Her smile was sad, tight-lipped but she nodded. You returned the gesture and closed the door.

Daryl had drawn up his right knee, his elbow pressed into it so his hand was over his face. There wasn’t much room on the side he was occupying, so you lifted the tubing for his IV and crawled up to sit on the other side, pulling him against you without protest, his face against your collarbone.

“It’s okay. It's just us.” You whispered into his hair. “It’s just you and me and I’ve got you.” It was impossible to hold back your own tears, listening to him release all that pain, everything the wound only delayed. So you held him tight, weeping into his hair and letting him cry until his energy waned, his breaths evening out.

“M’gonna try.” He whispered suddenly, causing you to startle.

“Try?” You brushed his hair back and angled your head to see the side of his face.

“Try to—gonna try to letcha help.” He sniffled and nuzzled against your skin. “Letcha be there.”

“I’ll always be there. Promise.”

His arm wound around your middle and held tight. “Don’t make promises ya can’t keep.” You laid your cheek on the top of his head.

“I’m not, baby.” His head tilted back, forcing you to move, but your lips instantly pressed against his forehead. He looked so vulnerable, so tired, but yet so much lighter. “I’m not.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon whump #Spotify

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thebearer · 1 year

Note

had this thought of being in your first trimester while pregnant with teddy, and you’re so sick you can barely hold down saltine cracker. and one day at family he’s trying to get you to eat and you’re like “no i literally can’t” and he snaps at you in front of everyone

"C'mon, just try a little bite." Carmen coaxes, what was supposed to be a soothing tone was falling short, that snip in his tone was fueled with irritation.

"Carmen," You moaned lightly, your stomach lurching at the thought.

The smell of the kitchen was enough to make you nauseous, walking through only for a moment before you felt ill. Normally, your mouth salivated at the smells, tummy rumbling at the promise of the family meal.

That changed quickly after you found out you were pregnant. Only a few weeks, but your symptoms were coming in stronger each day. Hormonal acne that was angry and hurt to the touch decorating your jaw and chin, fatigue that washed over you in waves so strong it left your head spinning, and morning sickness. Well, morning was generous seeing as it followed you throughout the day. Your sense of smell was more sensitive, as was your stomach, and that combo was far from ideal. You'd smelled cilantro when you walked in and had to run to the bathroom.

Carmen understood, he did, but your recent hunger strike of sorts because of your stomach was making him beyond nervous. He'd looked up all the important, nutrient rich foods for you, insistent that you eat them.

And you would, if you could. If it didn't come shooting back up twenty minutes later.

"You gotta eat." Carmen frowned at you. "You can't starve yourself. Starve the baby."

"Carm, I'm not starving myself or the baby." You snapped, low and under your breath. "I'm gonna throw up if I eat it, ok? My stomach is fucked."

"Probably because you haven't eaten anything." Carmen glared at you, nodding towards the loaded bagel sandwich in front of you. "C'mon."

"Carmen, the thought of eating that right now is making me already gag." You muttered, holding a hand to your mouth, trying to swallow the spit already pooling in. "I'm not eating that."

"Baby, you have to-"

"-Carm, I will later, but I can't right now. I just threw up." You whined. There came the surge of emotions, raging and wild, the annoyance masked with frustration and tears.

"Eat. I'm not playin' with you anymore." Carmen's tone was harsh, cutting and firm, loud enough to bring the attention of the table towards the two of you.

Your lip wobbled, stomach twisting now with the humiliation of tears as well. You shoved your seat out, stomping towards the bathroom with burning tears. The table was silent, looking at Carmen.

Tina glared at him. "The fuck's the matter with you, Jeff?" She huffed, already standing to check on you.

"I-I'm just... She's not eating. And-And it's bad for the baby-"

"Carmen, really?" Sugar huffed, rolling her eyes. "You're so stupid."

"I gotta agree with Sug on this one." Richie quipped, nodding before shoveling the pasta in his mouth. "You are a fuckin' moron."

"Fuck off, alright? I'm a moron because I don't want my baby to starve?" Carmen huffed. The table erupted in comments, mostly derogatory towards Carmen's last comment and in defense of you.

"She's not starving your baby, you idiot." Sugar huffed. "She's sick. Ok? That is a different kind of sickness. One you will never understand." Sugar sneered. "And right now, there's probably only one craving that the baby won't reject, so maybe instead of being a dumbass-"

"-total jagoff-"

"-complete asshole-"

"-Go check on her." Sugar placed her hands on her hips, the sisterly glare that only an older sister could possess.

Carmen hated that she was right, hated that they all were. But he hated that you were upset and in the bathroom more.

"Can I come in?" Carmen knocked lightly, hearing Tina's soothing voice over your retching and sniffles. His heart plummeted.

Tina opened the door with a glare, one that had Carmen stepping back. "You not gonna come in here and make Mama more upset, you got me, Jeff?" Tina sneered, a painted brow raised menacingly at him.

Carmen just nodded dumbly. "You better get in there and make it right, you hear me?" Tina pushed past him.

You were sitting on the tile, one hand wiping your tear stained face, the other cleaning your mouth with a piece of toilet paper. You glared at Carmen through tear stained eyes, sniffling softly, making his heart crack.

"Baby," Carmen knelt down, a hand running over your hair soothingly. "I'm sorry, alright? I-I didn't mean to yell like that."

You just glared at him, wiping under your eyes. "I just... I don't know, I'm scared. I'm scared that something will happen to the baby, and-and it will be my fault."

"How would it be your fault?" You mumbled through a pout. "It's my body."

"Yeah, but, I-I don't know. Like if I miss a step or don't do everything right it will... It'll be bad and it's gonna be my fault." Carmen muttered, looking down at the tile.

"That's not how it's gonna be, Carm." You sigh, your heart melting at his admission. You knew he was scared, you were too. Just trying to figure it out together. "You can't plan everything and expect it to go like that. Not with a baby."

"I know." Carmen ran a hand down his face, looking back at you sweetly. "I'm just... I-I'm sorry, ok? I didn't mean to pressure you like that and be an asshole... or a jagoff... or a dumbass..."

You giggled lightly, lips curling. "You're not a dumbass all the time." You said playfully. "I promise, I will eat, Carm. I just can't do the vegetables and cheese today." You said, gagging lightly at the thought.

"Yeah? That's alright. What can you do, hm? What're you in the mood for?" Carmen hummed, running a hand down your hair.

You thought for a moment, hand running over your tummy lightly. You'd barely started to show, looking like bloat, but it drove Carmen wild regardless.

"Remember that hot dog we had after our first karaoke date?" You muttered dreamily, leaning your head to the side.

It felt like a lifetime ago. You and Carmen had just gotten 'serious'. Everything was exciting and new, and you'd taken him to a karaoke bar, serenading him a little tipsy and giggly. You'd been starving on your walk home. Carmen stopped and got you a one am hot dog at a questionable stand, but you'd loved it, sharing it with him, buried into his side while the two of you walked home. It was a shitty hotdog, but Carmen would've ate a million that night to keep you happy like that.

"Yeah?" Carmen tried not to grimace, nose scrunching lightly enough to have you laughing, his shoulders relaxing at the sound.

"I just want a shitty hotdog. Nothing gourmet. Just with some mustard. That's all I've been craving." You muttered.

"Alright. That's what baby wants?" Carmen asked, helping you off the floor sweetly, grabbing your bag for your mouth wash.

You nodded, gargling with it, Carmen holding your hair back while you spit in the sink. "I'll get it for you, ok? I think there's one down the block-"

"-I'll come with you." You added, glaring at him lightly, so he wouldn't protest. "I just need to be outside. Maybe settle my stomach."

"Alright." Carmen nodded, a hand running down your hip. "You got a coat?" You nodded, leaning into his side, walking back to the office with him.

Carmen walked you down to the stand, "overpriced and a tourist trap" he'd grumble, but bought you two hot dogs- just in case. In case you wanted more later. You'd managed to keep it down, sitting with him on the steps of The Bear, pressed into his side, giggly and sharing kisses in between bites.

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holylulusworld · 1 year

Text

Mood

Summary: Dean is in the mood for…cuddles.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Warnings: a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, fluff, cuddling & snuggling, scenting, friends to…more?

“Sweetheart?” Dean’s voice catches you off guard. You were about to shovel the rest of his pie into your mouth when he caught you. “What are you doing?”

“No-thing—” you chew audibly. “I was…uh…looking for a glass of water.”

“You stole my pie, Y/N,” he points out. Dean steps closer to snatch the fork out of your hands to lick it clean. “Cherry pie.”

“It was very good,” you grin, regretting nothing. Dean stole food from your secret stash more than once. You never get mad at each other. Both of you love to share. “Next time, I’ll buy the pie.”

“I’ll keep you up on that promise, pie thief,” he grins. “How about you share some of your cookies with me in return?” Dean hopefully looks at you. He wants more than a cookie tonight. You can see it in his eyes.

He’s in a clingy mood again. Dean is too proud to ask you to hug him or let him sleep on your bed. You know that and make it easier for him to get what he needs.

“You could join me tonight. I wanted to have a movie marathon. The worst slasher movies of all time,” you lie. Your plans didn’t include slasher movies, but you’ll change them for Dean.

“Really?” He hums. “I’ll bring the drinks; you bring the cookies.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Mr. Winchester,” you run your hand over Dean’s arm, gently teasing him. He shudders and hums. The alpha is touched starved once again. “Give me five to prepare the bed. I got new fluffy blankets.”

“Fluffy blankets?” Dean licks his lips. He’d never admit that he loves sleeping on your bed. Not only because you are there, surrounding him with your scent and warmth. No. Your bed is warm and cozy. Something Dean never had before the brothers found the bunker.

“Yep. You’ll get one if you behave, Dean,” you grin. “Do not forget the drinks.”

“Hmm…that’s not too bad,” Dean mumbles sleepily. He barely made it through the first movie before he snuggled into one of your pillows and wrapped a warm blanket around his body. “Being the little spoon…hmmm…”

“Shush, just enjoy.” You softly whisper. Dean let you spoon him from behind. Your arms are tightly wrapped around him, and you rest your head against his back.

“This is actually nice,” he says. “Your pillow smells good, and the blanket feels…odd.”

“It feels warm and cozy,” you snuggle into his back, inhaling Dean’s scent deeply. “You’re like a natural heater. I guess, you can never leave my bed again. You’re part of my future nest.”

Dean’s heart speeds up. You just mentioned your nest, and the alpha in the same line. Did you mean it?

He doesn’t say a word, afraid you didn’t mean the things you just said.

“What do you say?” You rub your cheek into his back. “Dean?”

“If you bring the blankets and you, I’ll bring me and play your heater.”

“Good,” you hold Dean a little tighter. “I hope you know that you just agreed on becoming my alpha…”

“I know, sweetheart…”

Tags in reblog.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #alpha!dean winchester #alpha!dean x omega!reader #Mood #a/b/o

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theglamorousferal · 3 months

Text

Persephone's Binding Part 7

Hardcover/Anger Management ship Sacrificial Bride au

AO3 Prompt Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

As he slid into the booth Jason was glad he had taken Danny's advice on wearing "Mid 2000's American chic". Clad in dark wash jeans, a red Henley shirt and his leather jacket he waited for Danny to come back with their order of "Nasty Burgers". He wasn't particularly excited about the name, but after sparring for four hours he was starving.

"One Double Nasty Burger with Nasty Fries and a chocolate milkshake for you and the rest is for me!" Danny returned to the table with his arms stretched longer than should be possible with four trays of food. He placed one in front of Jason and kept the others for himself. Jason raised an eyebrow at him. "What?"

"You sure you can eat all that?"

Danny smirked, grabbed a fist full of fries and declared "Watch me," and shoved his whole hand into his mouth in an almost cartoon logic sort of way.

Jason gaped for a moment before he chuckled to himself and picked up his burger. It looked like a regular burger, so he took a bite and - dammit it's delicious! He finished his bite and reached for the fries - eh, pretty mid.

"You were right about the burgers, this is delicious. However, once we figure out if or when we can contact my home dimension I am taking you to Batburger and your are gonna try the Jokerized fries." Jason finished his statement gesticulating with a fry before he popped it into his mouth.

"As long as your paying." Danny said, himself gesticulating with a fry. "I mean, flying around and doing ghostly shit is pretty taxing, so I'm always down for food, especially of the high calorie kind."

"Fair enough." They lapsed into a comfortable quiet for a while. Danny quickly worked his way through four Double Nasties, three large fries and two milkshakes.

Jason remembered something he had seen at the training grounds. "So I know we can't use projectiles on each other, but I noticed targets at the grounds. Any chance we can spend the afternoon practicing our aim?" Danny raised an eyebrow at him and Jason rolled his eyes. "Fine. Do you want to spend the afternoon trying to one-up each other?"

"Sounds like a plan, dude." Danny took a long slurp of one of his milkshakes. "So, what do you think of my sister?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

Jason startled at the shift in topic and blinked. Am I about to get a shovel talk? I should probably be serious then. "I think she is very kind and genuine in her care of things. I think she's acting as Atlas and I think it's been that way for longer than she's been Regent. I think she probably should take one if not multiple days off." He brushed the salt from his fingers onto his jeans and licked his lips before speaking again. "I haven't really been able to have a real conversation with her yet. Mostly we've kinda just given each other a summary of our lives and a brief discussion about books after our discussion in the library last night. I've interacted with you more than I have her, but from what I've seen of both of you so far, I'm impressed."

Danny looked at him, his green eyes intense, as if scrutinizing his very soul. He very well might be doing that actually. Jason did not flinch at the inspection, everything he had said was genuine.

"Hmm." Danny took a loud slurp, finishing off that milkshake. He set it aside and grabbed the other. "Do you find her attractive?"

Jason did not waver as he responded. "Just because I do doesn't mean anything without her approval." Danny narrowed his eyes further and took a sip so long Jason wondered if he had to breathe.

Jason sighed. "Fine, I may try and make myself a bit more aesthetically pleasing to her to try and catch her attention besides that I am a person in need and would gladly take pointers if you aren't completely against me attempting to woo her."

Danny smirked. "I knew it! Ha, take that Johnny!" He whipped out a clunky looking device and sent off a message in a group chat. He then leveled Jason with a look. "K, so, I may be new to the whole 'reading souls' thing, but when I took a look as you were talking nothing looked off and I've enjoyed hanging out with you so far today so I'm going to help you." As Jason perked up, Danny held out a hand. "I'm just gonna say this right now; I am not a miracle worker. I'm going off of evidence from past crushes and boyfriends here and it's been years since her last one. She's been a bit too busy for romance with all the training and then everything that happened.

"Anyway, you're on the right track with the biker aesthetic if this is more like your every day clothes. If you had a bike to go with it then we can likely get your foot in the door. I mean, you've already got a leg up on her last boyfriend with talking to her about books." Danny paused in eating his fries. "You know what? Let's rain check on the target practice, I'm gonna take you someplace we can get you a ride. We'll kill three birds with one stone, you get more of the biker aesthetic, maybe you can get Jazz to go on a ride with you, and you can move around the Zone without needing one of us to guide you!" Danny shot off another message to his group chat and then promptly finished off the last of his fries. "Come on, let's head over!"

Jason gathered all the trash and dumped it away as he followed Danny out of the restaurant. Danny grabbed Jason by the shoulders and flew off from Amity and towards a segment of floating land that looked like a winding road.

"It's gonna take a bit to get there at normal person speeds. Mind if I speed this up a bit?" Danny looked down at Jason.

"Go for it, I'm used to flying with the Supers and they can move at light speed."

Danny looked at him shocked for a moment. "Man, your dimension sounds so cool!" At the last word Danny's entire being seemed to flicker brighter and the freckles on his face spun around and were shaped like stars. He cleared his throat, embarrassed for a moment. "I can't go nearly that fast, but my top speed should get us there in five instead of thirty minutes." With that he took off.

Soon enough, Jason saw quickly approaching what appeared to be a brownstone not unlike those from any major US city with an apartment above two businesses. A garage and a stylist's from the look of it. Standing in front of the place was a couple, a blonde and very pale man in a mechanic's jumpsuit covered in various stains, and a very pale woman with green hair and bright red leather jacket and skirt.

"Hey Phantom, so this is the poor schmuck?" The blonde asked after Danny placed Jason back on his feet.

"Hey Johnny, yeah, this is Jason. Poor guy got sacrificed to Jazz of all people." Danny replied with all the air of a younger sibling. "Anyway, I'm pretty sure he left his bike in his home dimension, mind hooking him up with a ride? I don't want to have to carry him everywhere and I doubt a ghostly horse is gonna do it for him." He stuck his thumb out, pointing at Jason behind him.

Johnny seemed to be sizing him up, his arms crossed before he eventually nodded. "Fine, but it's going on your bill." He turned to head into his shop. "See ya later Kitty, I got a big project apparently." He kissed the woman before he walked into the garage.

Jason made to follow, but Kitty stopped him. "If you ever need some styling you come to me okay kid? And if you make the Queen cry, I can make men vanish with a kiss." She patted him on the shoulder before sauntering back into her shop.

"Yeah, Kitty got close with Jazz after a fight she had with Johnny one time. It's kind of weird because when Jazz was dating Johnny, he was trying to get it so Kitty could possess her to exist in the Living Realm. It was a whole thing, but it's behind us at this point." Jason blinked at Danny's back as he floated his way into the garage. Okay then, just casually drop horrifying lore why don't you? Jason followed him inside.

Danny was floating over Johnny's shoulder as the man was drawing up basic schematics.

"Standard Court specs?" Johnny asked the floating High Prince.

"For liminal humans for now yeah. We haven't had the chance to bring him to get a full scan done to find his classification yet."

"Hmm. Okay, hey Sacrifice, get over here, do you like low riding or tight riding?" Jason joined them at the table and they spent the next few hours planning out Jason's ecto-bike. "Looks good, it's gonna take me a bit, but I can get it to you in a week, two tops if I can't get one of the parts. I'll hold off on the engine until we know what your classification is, if you produce your own ecto then we'll need a sample for it." At Jason's hesitation he continued. "It just means that it'll be more self-sustaining and you can summon it to your will. It'll lock-on to your ecto-signature."

"Cool, do you think it'd work in my home dimension? Or will I have to leave this beauty here if or when I leave?"

"Possibly? I mean, at the very least you are death-touched and that kinda manifests ectoplasm in universes. It depends on how much ambient ecto there is around. It doesn't run on gas, it runs on ectoplasm." Danny butted in. "Either way, it'll be good to have here, and who knows, if you have to leave it, maybe you can still come visit?"

"Yeah kid, I'd like that." Jason replied.

Danny smiled. "Cool, well, we gotta head back for dinner. Lunch Lady is making baked Mac and Cheese tonight and I am not missing getting the corner servings."

"See ya around Johnny! Thanks for this by the way."

Johnny waved him off. "Eh it's no big deal, I make all the rides of the Royal Family. You being sacrificed means you're probably bound to this craziness for eternity." Johnny looked at him seriously for a moment. "Do better for her than I did, K? I know that won't take much, but she's been through Hell and back and she deserves someone to take care of her for once."

Jason nodded back, determination set on his face. "If she lets me, I will."

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #fanfic #sacrificial bride au #hardcover ship #anger management ship #jazz x jason #I'm back from the dead y'all

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klausysworld · 2 years

Note

can you please write a headcanon of yandere Klaus Mikaelson with a broken reader? Basically Klaus is delighted to find out reader is obedient and does everything he says, then later he realises reader actually gives up on hope and became a former shell of herself with no passion of life or interests.

Decided to write this in more of a one-shot kinda way, hope you don’t mind :) i just think it might work better

I’ve lost it

It had been god knows how long since i was last outside. I couldn’t remember the last time i saw one of my family members. The only interactions i had was with Klaus himself and even them most of them ended in arguments. It was becoming draining.

I was coming to the realisation that i was not going to be getting out. There was no life after my escape and no happy life where i could the busy streets and see what the world has to offer. One time Klaus had offered to show me the world, i wish i had just accepted it instead of being so rude. I should have at least let him down gently but no, and now i was sat amongst takeaway packets because Klaus didn’t have time to cook me anything.

He’s been busier lately, leaving me alone more. It’s hard not to contemplate everything. The lack of physical contact and communication was starting to get to my head.

Klaus hasn’t come to see me in maybe a few days? I couldn’t tell what time it was anymore but i was hungry. I hadn’t moved from my spot in the bed in what felt like a forever.

I couldn’t be bothered to move when i heard the door unlock, i heard footsteps getting closed and i could smell food. Real food, it made my mouth water and i closed my eyes to savour it incase it was a hallucination

“My love…i have breakfast for you” Klaus. Of course, I wasn’t really expecting anyone else. He knelt in front of me but the food wasn’t in his hands making me frown in confusion. His hand came to hold my cheek as he furrowed his brows

“Aren’t you hungry sweetheart?” He asked a little softer. I was starving but I wasn’t sure if it was worth eating anymore.

“Where were you?” i asked, my voice a lot weaker than i had hoped

“I’m sorry, my family, they’re awake and I’ve been trying to find the time to come down here…have you been using the colouring pencils i got for you?” He stood up taking a look around, his eyes saddening

“Those are the same books you had last time i was here, love what have you been doing?” He asked, his arms slipped under my body to pull me into a sitting up position making me groan, i suddenly felt a lot more hungry now i was upright as i looked around for the food. He was quick to sit down next to me with the tray practically shovelling the food into my mouth

“Good girl just keep going” he muttered as he brought some water to my lips

Once i had cleared the plate i found myself leaning into him. As much as i hated him at least he was somewhat alive. He was a real thing and he was here. I could feel the skin of his arms on mine as i shut my eyes and pulled myself into his lap as my fingers curled around his henley. His thumb rubbed circles against my upper arm making my eyes burn with tears, this man was my only comfort and yet he had taken me away from everything i had ever loved.

“Do you feel sick sweetheart?” He asked feeling my forehead with the back of his hand

“Please don’t leave” i whispered clinging to him tightly, turning my body to straddle him, my legs wrapping around him and my arms holding onto his midsection

“Please it’s too quiet” I added with a sniff as a tear ran astray down my face. I felt his hand on the back of my head and i tucked my face under his chin

“I’m not going anywhere my darling, I’m staying with you for as long as i can”

We stayed like that for a while before he lifted me and turned on the shower

“Im just going to sit in the bedroom okay?” He asked as he set the temperature, setting me down onto my feet

“No no you said you wouldn’t leave, stay you gotta stay” i sobbed grabbing onto him, his body tensed before relaxing as I practically climbed him to attache myself to him muttering ‘no’ over and over as he rocked me

“Okay… okay I’ll sit right here yeah? I’ll talk to you through the glass okay? I’m right here” he whispered

He stayed sat against the shower glass the whole time, he spoke about his family and why he was having problems with them. His mother being alive and throwing a ball. He said the ball didn’t go as planned and Kol had his neck snapped.

By the time i was out my mind was clearing over, and I wasn’t as well…crazy.

He brushed my hair and dried it, i didn’t complain or pull away like I usually did. He kept speaking the whole time, sometimes about the past and sometimes the present but never the future. I’m not sure if there even is a future anymore.

I stayed in his lap when he read a book to me, a love story between two normal people who fell for each other over time. They had a child at the end. He told me he thinks there’s a sequel and that he’d find it for me.

He only left me once to get us dinner before hurrying back.

He had been so gentle today, he didn’t yell or raise his voice at all

And so I couldn’t find it within me to push him away when he pressed his lips to mine. His lips were so soft and warm, his hands held my face as he slowly got on top of me. I didn’t protest when his tongue slipped into my mouth, I didn’t shove at him as he groaned into me, I didn’t bother pulling away when his hips rolled to meet mine, when his hand moved to touch my neck, when it trailed down and he rubbed over my breasts through my shirt. I didn’t stop him as he ground down harder his kiss growing hungrier and his hand becoming more bold as it moved between my legs, just cupping my sex through my sleep shorts.

Only when he pulled away did he take in my face, he swallowed thickly as he backed away from me

“Forgive me- i got carried away, I didn’t mean to make you feel like you had to” he muttered as he rolled onto his back

“Would you like me to stay for the night?” He asked quietly and i nodded bringing myself closer to him. My arm going over his chest as I snuggled into his side

“Will you be here in the morning?” I asked in a mumble

“Im not sure, i need to sneak back to my room in early enough so that my family think i stayed the night there but I’ll be back a little later for brunch?” He offered

“Yea okay, i understand” i whispered, he squeezed my tighter and pulled the cover up over my shoulders

“I love you sweetheart, so much. Just rest, i will take care of everything” his words blurred as i began to slip into unconsciousness.

The next few days…or weeks i just sort of did whatever he wanted. I did as he asked, sometimes we did some art together, he had also gotten me a typewriter to try and write stories, with all the reading id been doing i had a some creativity. I wasn’t allowed an actual laptop incase i tried to contact anyone.

Things were seeming to be a lot better. But then the realisation set in that this was as good as it was ever going to be. There was nothing that i was going to experience that would be worth living for anymore.

Klaus didn’t notice my detachment though. He was just happy that i was behaving. I never got mad at him or cried. I didn’t push or shove or kick or hit. I kissed back and sometimes i wondered if i could actually love him. But then i sort of realised i didn’t really feel much of anything anymore. I wasn’t mad or upset or disgusted but I wasn’t happy or feeling safe and cared for and loved. And i knew that he was doing it because he loves me and wants to keep me safe but I didn’t really know what was happening anymore.

Sometimes i wondered if it was one big mind fuck and i was in some weird game. Like maybe Klaus wasn’t really an original hybrid right? Like this whole thing is just to see how long it would take for me to crack. Sometimes i found myself looking to see if there were cameras or something watching me, was it a tv show?

That lasted like a week. Im convinced. I’ve lost it.

Klaus sort of grounded me most of the time, made me see and touch someone real and know that i was still some what alive. It was coming to the point where i had to pinch myself to make sure i was still real, i spoke to myself a lot, Klaus had days where he was really busy, he was better at seeing me as often as possible but still he couldn’t always balance me and his other life right?

I’d stopped writing, who’s even going to read them?

I found myself staring at his paintings for so long that i began to hate them. He had so many stupid hidden meanings it was an impossible puzzle.

The majority of my time was spent on the floor, either the carpet or the bathroom tiles if it i wanted a colder surface. Occasionally i pretended i was already dead. I mean what would he do if i were to die? He can’t just bring me back, not without vampire blood and i didn’t have that in my system. Sometimes i got worried though… what if he kept my body and kept me in my room, i worried what would happen after death, what if my soul or whatever was trapped in the room?

———————————————————————

(Third person)

Klaus was not expecting the scene infront of him. His love passed out on the floor, paper scattered everywhere and his paintings ripped to shreds. He slowly lifted her sleeping form placing her back into bed, he notices a cluster of little bruises along her thighs and stomach, pinch marks? He frowned seeing her fingernails slightly bloody and kissed them gently

He went back to the papers, no more than a few words scribbled down. It was about the afterlife and some held questions of what was happening. She wasn’t sure where she was. He felt his confusion grow seeing his paintings beaten in, the paintings of her. Her own face was torn out and a dot her blood was soaked into the carpet.

He slowly neared her in the bed after clearing the mess. His hand hesitantly pressed to her forehead to look through her mind

“Show me what’s troubling you my love”

He wasn’t expecting to find her completely emotionless while watching a clock. A clock with no arms. The ticking was persistent and yet there was no second hand, mo minute hand or hour hand. He found he was entranced by it struggling to pull himself away.

He dug further seeing her mid way through a panic attack in the middle of the room, spinning around hastily while pure fear crawled upon her face, she kept asking what was happening, why was she there? Who was watching her.

His heart ached, his wolf cried and his soul hurt seeing her scratch her legs to the point of the skin breaking.

Seeing her unmoving for days

Her laughing at nothing

Crying at the abstract painting he had made for her

And then he found a younger version of her, a small child version. Speaking to her mother

“One day I’m gonna live in a big house! I’m gonna have a baby and a husband and a pet cat! We’re gonna have you round all the time and it’s gonna be great! We can take holidays every year to slowly travel the world!” The innocence and excitement at the girl held her first plane ticket waving it at her elder sister who rolled her eyes but smiled non the less

Klaus came back from her mind to find himself crying. He wiped at his tears and sat with her hand in his

“I’m so sorry” he uttered while trying to find a way to stop her mind from collapsing in on itself.

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d1xonss · 2 months

Text

Desert Rose

Chapter 55 ~ Moonshine and Memories

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 4

✧ Word Count : 6.2k

In this chapter ~ Exhaustion begins to consume Daryl as the days turned into weeks, dragging Beth right along with him as he continued with determination. Though when they finally settle down for a much needed break, things don’t go according to plan as the situation quickly escalates into a screaming match. Taking every little thing out on each other from the pent up frustration. But in the end, it somehow shined a light on a new understanding for one another.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ THIRD PERSON POV *~*~*~*~*~*~*

Days passed by, and there was still no sign of Rose, but that sure as hell didn't stop Daryl from looking. He and Beth had hardly spoken a single word to each other ever since the night Beth brought her up whilst they sat by the fire, knowingly avoiding each other like a disease. Rose was a touchy subject for the both of them, but it seemed to be even more sensitive for Daryl, though Beth just couldn't figure out why. She told herself that he might've felt guilty that he couldn't keep her safe when the shit hit the fan, but there was definitely more to the story.

As the endless hours continued, it was definitely starting to take some kind of a toll on each of their mindsets. One they didn't expect. It was no secret Beth was the more positive one between the two, but even she was starting to lose hope. After not having found anything in this endless abyss of a forest, she found it harder and harder to stay positive. She would never let Daryl see that however, because she didn't want to admit it to him, let alone admit it herself.

Daryl on the other hand felt numb. So numb that if lightning struck him, he was sure he wouldn't feel a damn thing. He had hardly stopped moving as the search continued, with the exception of taking a break to eat or sleep, other than that, they were constantly on the move. It surprised him though when Beth eventually stopped trying to talk to him. He thought that maybe she finally got the hint that he didn't want to speak at all in general, not having enough energy to even try as they truly pushed themselves to the limit.

Although he didn't let his mind linger on this thought for very long, he slowly found himself considering the possibility that Rose was dead. It was only a split second, but it crossed his mind nonetheless. However, he had to remind himself that she was probably the strongest person he ever knew, she could survive on her own if she needed to. Oh, but he prayed that she wasn't alone. He prayed that maybe she found some of the others and was safe with them, having someone trustworthy watching her back. But at this point, that was just wishful thinking.

The unlikely pair were currently sitting across from each other, resting a bit as they ate a rattlesnake that Daryl killed and skinned. Beth was hesitant to eat it as she stared at the mushy looking meat, but food was food. Although she couldn't help but stare at first when Daryl started inhaling the snake as if it were his last meal, her mouth parting a little in disgust.

The truth was he wasn't eating fast because he was starving, he was eating fast so they could get back on the road. The guilt he felt was beginning to be unbearable, wanting nothing more than to be able to keep his promise to her. He told her he wouldn't stop, and he wasn't going to.

After Beth finished up half of what she could stomach, she put the rest down as Daryl was just finishing up, and an idea came to her. "I need a drink." she said.

Daryl didn't look up from his meal as he threw a bottle of water in her direction, continuing to shovel the food down quickly. She scoffed and pushed the carton away, "No, I mean a real drink. Like alcohol."

He still ignored her, but she continued, "I've never had one, cause of my dad. But he's not exactly around anymore so..." she trailed off, "I thought we could go find some."

The man still didn't look up at her as he finished his food, causing Beth to sigh as she racked her brain to try and get his attention. She contemplated throwing something at him, but that probably wouldn't end very well. Though she also didn't want to just leave on her own, knowing that he wouldn't follow after her as his sole focus was always on finding Rose.

But then that's when it hit her...Rose.

"Rose." she said simply and not a second later, his eyes snapped up to her as he stopped mid chew.

It amazed her that all she had to say was her name, and that's what would get him to stop for anything. She was finally starting to understand that Rose had his entire heart in the palm of her hand. She knew that he loved her and everything, but this was a whole new level of love that Beth never got to see before in her whole life. And it brought a small smile to her face despite the situation.

Daryl however was angry. He was pissed at her for wanting to get a damn drink in the first place when there were other things they should be doing. Not only that, but she mentioned the one name that clearly hurt him the most, piercing through his heart painfully. He didn't understand what she was trying to achieve, but he sure as hell wasn't going to listen to a stupid teenager who wanted to get wasted.

"That got your attention," she muttered before standing up to her feet, "Come on, we can't just sit here. We might as well do something."

His patience was growing thinner and thinner as he threw the rest of the snake on the ground and stood up as well, "We are doin somethin." he growled.

He then bent down to grab his crossbow before heading off without another word. Beth huffed and stood there for a few more seconds before reluctantly gathering her stuff as well and followed in the same direction. All the girl wanted was a simple drink so she could actually calm down and loosen up a little, and she thought that was something Daryl could use too. She noticed the bags under his eyes and how he walked slower and slower with each passing day, knowing he wasn't sleeping. Maybe a drink would help him rest, help ease his mind for the first time in days.

So, after taking a small breath, she gained the courage to step in front of him to stop him in his tracks.

"The hell ya doin? Move." he demanded as he shoved past her.

She huffed again, moving quickly to catch up and stand in front of him once more, "Just one drink, we both need it." she pleaded.

"Don't you tell me what I need." he snapped.

"Please...you've been killing yourself trying to find her, and you've barely gotten any sleep at all. God forbid I care about your wellbeing. Maybe a drink would help?"

Daryl had no idea how far back on the road she lost her mind, but it had to be recently. He couldn't believe what she was trying to get him to do. A drink wouldn't do anything but cause them more problems, and he felt himself getting more frustrated at the fact that she was standing in his way, purposefully wasting time like a five year old not getting what she wanted.

"We ain't gettin no damn-" he started to yell, but then suddenly stopped himself short.

He hadn't thought this clearly in a long time, but an idea popped into his head. The cabin he and Rose stayed at after he proposed to her. She could've been there at some point, meaning he could pick up her tracks from there. And Beth could get a drink she so "desperately" needed. It was a perfect way to find her trail and get Beth to shut the hell up.

"Come on." he mumbled much more calmly, which caused Beth to raise an eyebrow, hesitantly following behind.

They trudged through the woods and Daryl remembered exactly where it was. It was closer than he could recall, but judging by the exhausted look on Beth's face when they were almost there, it might've been farther than he realized. It was like tunnel vision as he moved quickly to the destination, desperately wanting to know if she passed by, leaving any type of sign that she was alive.

Beth didn't know what had gotten into him, but she somehow kept up with his fast figure until they ended up at a small cabin in the middle of the woods. The house looked cozy yet abandoned, watching as a ghost of a smile appeared on Daryl's face as he stared at the tiny house, memories clearly flooding back into his mind.

He stood there for a moment, recalling how surprised she was when just looking at the outside of the structure, and how he carried her through the front door, making her laugh. He missed her laugh. It was something that made his heart flutter from the very start, even before his feelings developed. The delightful sound was like music to his ears, even finding himself telling her that many times before. Though as cheesy as it was, it couldn't have been truer.

He quickly walked up to the door and opened it loudly, his crossbow aimed high for any walkers that could've gotten in there. And the slight chance she was in there, he wanted to let her hear his presence.

"Rosie?" he called out softly, but was only met with silence.

He sighed sadly, not even noticing Beth standing a little further behind him in the doorway as he called out to her. Though he suddenly walked back outside, brushing past the girl to scan the area for any kind of tracks that she could've left behind.

Watching as he lingered around the area for a moment, Beth finally walked in further to check the place out. To her little-known knowledge, this had obviously been a place Rose had been before if Daryl thought there was a chance of her hiding out in the small house, and she would be lying if she said she wasn't a bit saddened. She had mentally crossed her fingers that they would find her here, the disappointment she felt now prominent in her chest.

It took him longer than he would've liked as his eyes scanned the ground like a lunatic, but he wanted to be thorough. He checked every square inch around the outside of the cabin for any tracks, but all he found were old walker footprints that were caked in the dirt. This didn't help his anxious state one bit, leaving him defeated as he slowly made his way back inside to see Beth standing in the living room, looking around somewhat awkwardly.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the room on the left caught his eye. The room that they spent the night in. He debated on whether or not he wanted to go in there, simply because he didn't even know if he could handle it. But he found his feet had a mind of their own as he slowly approached the door mindlessly.

His palm pushed it open hesitantly, only to see it was exactly how they left it. The bed was still messy, the wine glasses were still scattered on the carpet, and their initials were still carved into the wood on the door. He remembered he did that right at the last minute before they left to head back to the prison. It was almost like he did it because he wanted any other people who passed by to know that this was their place. Even if those people didn't know who the hell they were, the message was still there. His eyes stung a little as he rubbed his thumb gently over the letters, before making his way further inside.

The memories washed over him like a tidal wave as he stared at the bed. Memories of her giggling at the soft kisses he planted on her face, memories of her sweet words she whispered in his ear. He remembered how shocked he was when he fell even more in love with her that night. He could've sworn that it wasn't even possible, but yet it happened. She was like a drug, and he found himself hopelessly addicted. He missed her more than anything, feeling like he truly wasn't the same without her, and Beth was witnessing that firsthand.

Beth never saw Daryl as a bad guy, but she came to the realization that she only ever knew him when he was with Rose. Like a package deal. Though seeing him now without her by his side, she knew now how much he wasn't himself. It was like she was his other half, the half he couldn't seem to live without.

Daryl eventually made his way back out into the living room where Beth was still lingering, waiting for him, and made his way towards the kitchen to get the liquor she wanted. He remembered Rose finding some moonshine right before they left the cabin to go back home, assuming that it shouldn't be too bad for her first drink, especially if she wanted something strong.

He whistled to grab her attention, and she walked over to where he was standing with her arms hanging at her sides. Daryl picked up a glass and blew out the dust that collected in the bottom of it before opening one of the jars and pouring her a decent amount.

He placed it down on the table with a small slam, sliding it over towards her, "There's your drink." he said almost bitterly.

She took it delicately in her hands, "What is it?"

"Moonshine." he said simply, but he watched as she continued to eye the liquid cautiously, almost wanting to change her mind. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing...it's just...my dad always said drinking bad moonshine could make you go blind."

He scoffed, "Well...ain't nothin worth seein out there anymore anyway."

Beth knew she didn't really have a lot of options, knowing that he fulfilled her request in finding her some kind of drink. Even though the reason he led them here in the first place was to find Rose, he still did what she asked for. So, she raised the glass to her mouth and took a small sip of the liquid, making a face as soon as the taste hit her tongue.

"That's the most disgusting thing I've ever tasted." she said.

Daryl just raised his eyebrows, giving her a look like he didn't know what else she expected, but she ignored it. She then downed the rest of it despite the nasty taste it left in her mouth, reaching over for the glass jar to pour more into her cup.

"Slow down." Daryl advised.

She finished transferring a little in the glass, "This one's for you."

"Nah, I'm good." he said with a shake of his head.

"Why?"

He scoffed, "Someone's gotta keep watch while ya have yer little pity party."

Beth didn't want him to drink until he got wasted, she just wanted him to give in and have a little to try and put a stop to his constant loud thoughts. Even if it was just for a few minutes. In the back of her mind that's what she was doing too, because she couldn't stop worrying.

"So what, you're like my chaperone now?" she asked with a raised brow.

He just glared at her, "Hurry up so we can go."

Daryl moved to sit himself down on the couch in the living room just a few feet away, beginning to fiddle with his crossbow. He needed something to keep himself occupied otherwise he knew he would start to get too impatient with how long she was taking. But in the back of his mind, he knew they needed a little break. They had been doing this for days without proper rest, and he honestly didn't know how Beth was still following him at this point.

Though suddenly the sound of a walker from just outside caught both of their attention, though it didn't sound like it was banging on the door. Instead the sound was faint, and Daryl assumed the corpse would just pass by if they were quiet enough and stayed inside. He got up to double check, seeing it was a lone dead one just outside of the window.

"It's just one of em." he told Beth, continuing to watch it as he peered through the curtain.

She got up from where she sat, "Should we get it?"

"If it keeps makin too much noise, yeah."

Beth looked down at the moonshine in her hands with a nod before speaking again, "Well, if we're gonna be trapped again we might as well make the best of it." she voiced, placing her glass on the coffee table while picking up another jar of alcohol, extending it over to him, "Just one drink."

"I already told ya no." he snapped, "Didn't think you would be the one ta peer pressure me." he spoke ironically.

She sighed, "I'm not peer pressuring you, I'm trying to help you."

"Yeah, well ya know what's not helpin? Stayin in here, when we should be lookin out there." he pointed out the window as he spoke the last words, emphasizing his point.

She took a big deep breath, trying to calm down from this man's stubbornness. He had no idea just how much she wanted to find Rose, but they needed a break. They had just been going and going for ages, without even seeing a single sign that she was ever around in the area. There was nothing, other than the pretty purple clip that he found in the beginning.

"I'm tired Daryl," she spoke softly, "And I know you are too. So please, just take a break...have a drink...and we can head back on the road before you know it."

He stared at the moonshine in her hands for a long while, thinking silently to himself though he really just wanted to smack the jar right out of her hands. But he didn't. He instead snatched it from her harshly with a glare, looking down to the clear liquid with a huff.

He didn't want to admit it to himself to seem weak, but he truly was exhausted. He had hardly gotten any sleep these past few days, pushing his body to the limits as he tried to keep going. Maybe a drink would calm him down. But he wouldn't waste any more time than they needed. One drink, before they would be right back on the road.

It took a lot of convincing, almost like pulling teeth, but somehow, Beth talked Daryl into playing a drinking game with her to try and have some fun. The man didn't want to waste any more time with how long they had spent in the cabin already...even though it had just been an hour. But eventually, she won him over when she told him they would only play for a few minutes.

They were sitting across from each other with jars of moonshine sitting on the coffee table in front of them, playing never have I ever.

"So, first I say something I've never done, and if you've done it you drink, and if you haven't, I drink. Then we switch." Beth explained, "You really don't know this game?"

"I ain't never needed a game to get lit before." Daryl muttered.

"Wait, are we starting?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, "How do you know this game?"

"My friends played, I watched. Okay, I'll start...I've never shot a crossbow. So, now you would drink." she said.

Daryl scoffed and brought the liquor to his lips, "Ain't much of a game." he mumbled after he swallowed.

"Well, that was a warm-up. Now you go." she said.

The man thought for a moment, a huff leaving his lips as he shrugged, "I dunno." He felt suddenly uncomfortable playing this with a seventeen year old girl, letting her drink in the first place was probably a stupid idea.

"Just say the first thing that pops into your head." Beth tried to help.

He shrugged, "I ain't ever been outta Georgia."

She looked a little shocked, "Really? Okay, good one." she complimented before drinking a little of the moonshine. "I've never...been drunk and done something I regretted."

His eyes narrowed at her for a moment before grabbing the jar and taking a larger drink of the liquid, almost as if he wanted to rid himself of the fuzzy memories. He didn't really need to think twice about that one, there were a lot of things he regretted doing when he was drunk. He just hoped she wouldn't ask for details.

"I ain't ever been on vacation." he muttered.

"What about camping?" Beth asked.

He shook his head, "Nah, that was just something I had to learn...to hunt."

"Your dad taught you?" she assumed.

Daryl just nodded in response, not trying to open that can of worms as Beth took another drink and tried to come up with another question. "I've never...been in jail. Well, I mean...as a prisoner."

Daryl's blood started to boil at the subtle accusation that he had been locked up before, though he tried to keep his cool, "Is that what ya think of me?" he asked.

"I didn't mean anything serious, I just thought you know like the drunk tank...even my dad got locked up for that back in the day." she reassured.

He shook his head, "Drink up."

"Wait... prison guard," she tried to guess, "Were you a prison guard before..." she trailed off.

Daryl stared at her for a long minute before saying, "No."

Beth noticed that she struck a nerve, but that truly wasn't her intention. She only stated the first thing that came to mind without really thinking twice about it, mostly because she felt like she couldn't come up with anything good. Just anything to keep the game going. But he somehow became even more guarded after the last one, and she knew she messed up.

She awkwardly tapped her glass as he continued to stare, "It's your turn again..." she reminded him.

Though he had just about enough and decided the game was over as he stood up from his spot, "Nah, we're done fuckin around. M' gonna take a piss, and then we're gonna go."

Beth sighed in slight defeat but felt like she didn't have any room to argue. She got a drink like she wanted and even got him to do it right alongside her, even though it wasn't doing anything but piss him off further. Still, she couldn't push it much more.

But her body involuntarily flinched when she heard the sound of glass breaking on the other end of the room, seeing Daryl dropped one of the jars carelessly onto the kitchen floor.

"You have to be quiet." she said softly.

"I can't hear ya! M' takin a piss!" he yelled back.

She sighed, "Daryl, you can't talk so loud." she reminded, glancing outside to the walker just behind the walls.

He turned around from the corner, "What are ya my chaperone now?" he asked passive aggressively, referring to the phrase she said earlier.

She shook her head a little in disbelief, watching him zip up his pants before turning back around to face her, "Oh wait it's my turn, right? I've never, uh...never eaten frozen yogurt. Never had a pet pony...never got nothin from Santa Clause," he spoke while knocking over one of the chairs, "Never relied on anyone for protection before...Hell I don't think I've ever relied on anyone for anythin!"

Beth grew shocked at his words, the venom dripping from his voice, it brought tears to her eyes. Not because his words hurt her, but because of the built-up pain she was seeing come out of him for what seemed like the first time since everything happened. She obviously knew that Daryl had a tough past, he was damaged. But she had never seen him so angry, so exhausted, so utterly broken before.

But he kept going, "Never sung out in front of a big group out in public, like everythin was fun. Like everythin was a big game... I sure as hell didn't force anyone else to do it with me even if she didn't want to!"

Just by looking at Beth's face in that moment, he could tell that finally, the last thing he said struck a nerve. Every other insult, every other snap to his words didn't affect her, but this he saw was something different. Turns out...Rose was both of their weaknesses.

Suddenly the walker for earlier started making a lot more noise upon hearing the screams from inside, and Daryl wasn't having it, "Sounds like our friend out there is tryin to call all his buddies!"

"Daryl, just shut up." Beth said through gritted teeth.

"Hey, ya never shot a crossbow before? M' gonna teach you right now, come on it's gonna be fun." he said while picking her up by her arm and dragging her outside.

"We should stay inside!" Beth tried to protest, trying to get out of his grasp as he only dragged her out the front door and down the stairs, "Daryl, cut it out!" she screamed.

He finally let go of her once they were close enough to the dead asshole, firing a bolt into its chest to pin it up against a nearby tree. Beth pleaded with him to stop as he continued to miss its head purposefully each time, trying to get the girl to shoot it herself so she could learn how to use his weapon. But he didn't stop. In his mind he was only getting started.

"Just kill it!" Beth yelled.

"Come on Greene, let's pull these out. Get a little more target practice." he said harshly, gesturing to the walker as it flailed around with bolts sticking out of its limbs.

She finally had enough, rushing past him as she took out her knife, bringing it down on the walker's head before Daryl could get to it himself. The snarls stopped instantly with the silencer of her blade, pulling it back out harshly as Daryl scoffed to himself angrily.

"What the hell ya do that for? We was havin fun!" he said.

"No, you were being a jackass!" she yelled back at him, "If anyone found my dad-"

"Don't," he cut her off, pointing a finger at her, "That ain't remotely the same."

"Killing them is not supposed to be fun."

His patience was diminishing as he suddenly got right up in her face, "What do ya want from me girl?! Huh?"

"I want you to stop like you don't give a crap about anything! Like... like nothing we went through matters, like none of the people we lost meant anything to you-"

"Oh, you got a lot of damn nerve sayin that to me." he cut her off again, "What do ya think I've been doin all this time?! Huntin for rabbits? No! I made a promise to her and m' keepin that promise...I don't care if it kills me."

"You can't even say her name! You're acting as if you're the only one who lost her, I lost her too!" she screamed in his face, before stepping back for a moment to collect herself, "That's one thing I know...right there." she whispered sadly.

"You don't know nothin." he spoke coldly.

"I know you look at me and you just see another dead girl. I'm not Michonne, I'm not Carol, I'm not Maggie...and I'm not Rose. I survived and you don't get it because I'm not like you or them, but I made it. And you don't get to treat me like crap just because you're afraid!"

His eyes narrowed at her as he got closer to her face, wanting her to remember his words well, "I ain't afraid of nothin."

But she didn't back down, "I remember...when that little girl came out of the barn, right after my mom, you were like me. Or the damn look on your face when you found Rose's clip, you were scared, you still are! And now God forbid you let anyone get too close."

"Too close huh? What about my wife? M' the one who got close to her, and m' the one who fuckin lost her! You would know all about that, ya lost yer boyfriend and can't even shed a tear! Your whole family's gone and all you can do is just go out looking for hooch like some dumb college bitch!"

She shook her head, "Screw you, you don't get it."

"Nah, you don't get it!" he barked back, "Everyone we know is dead!"

"You don't know that!"

"Might as well be, cause you ain't ever gonna see em again!" he yelled

Her eyes started to fill with tears, but he still didn't stop, "Rick...you ain't ever gonna see Maggie again! Just like I ain't ever gonna see my wife again! I haven't even come close to findin her, I might as well be chasin her ghost!"

"Daryl, just stop." she said calmly as she tried to grab hold onto his arm, watching as he only jerked away harshly.

"No! She's gone..." he said, more defeated than Beth had ever heard him, "She's gone...and I- I can't find her..."

She let out a soft breath as he continued to speak, "And your dad, maybe...maybe I coulda done somethin more..." he trailed off, feeling Beth finally come up behind him and wrap her arms around his waist in a hug.

He flinched at her touch and went to shove her off, but a certain feeling seemed to stop him. The simple gesture only reminded him of when Rose would do the same thing, giving him the gentleness he had never received from anyone else before. The gesture that made him feel safe. The truth was, he didn't have the energy to push her off of him, and he needed to feel some sort of comfort as he slowly broke down and cried. So, for the very first time...he let her stay.

Darkness now fell over the sky, the only light source being the moon shining down on their faces as they sat across from each other on the porch, drinking the strong liquor. As the hours passed, Beth suggested they stay the night here since the sun was already starting to set, and to her surprise, Daryl agreed. He was too tired to carry on today, too exhausted to even think about how far away she could be at this point. But again, it wasn't going to stop him.

Even though in the middle of their argument when he mentioned something about her ghost, he found he didn't mean that. Hell, he didn't mean a lot of the things he said. But deep down he believed she was still alive somewhere out there, trying to hold onto that little bit of hope that kept him going.

"I get why my dad stopped drinking." Beth suddenly broke the silence, leaning up further against the wooden pillar across from the man.

Daryl looked up, feeling the familiar fuzziness in his vision as he finally let his guard down a little, "Ya feel sick?"

She laughed lightly, "Nope. I wish I could feel like this all the time...that's bad."

"Yer lucky yer a happy drunk." he muttered, beginning to pick at his nails absentmindedly.

"Yeah, I'm lucky." she agreed, "Some people can be real jerks when they drink."

He nodded, "Yeah, m' a dick when m' drunk."

If Beth was sober, she probably would've held back on the comment that popped into her head, but she couldn't seem to stop it from falling out of her mouth, "Just when you're drunk?" she asked ironically.

He gave her a look, causing her to laugh a little in response, "I gotta good reason to be a dick right now, alright? Don't take it personal." he grumbled.

With the next look she had on her face, Daryl could only sense that she was about to ask something about Rose, causing him to quickly change the subject before she had the chance. His thoughts weren't running as clear, words just slipping out of his mouth a little easier as he began to open up to her a bit more than he ever would've thought.

He went onto tell her the truth about the things he used to do before the outbreak. How he and his brother would get into the most fucked up shit because he couldn't seem to stop following him around. How he was pretty much a nobody before everything...just some redneck asshole.

"You miss him, don't you?" Beth asked with a tilt of her head, silently referring to Merle as she watched Daryl nod his head subtly.

"Yeah." he said quietly.

"I miss Maggie...I miss her bossing me around." she admitted as she began to stare off into space, "And my dad...I thought... I hoped he'd just live the rest of his life in peace, you know? I thought Maggie and Glenn would have a baby, and he would get to be a grandpa. And we'd have birthdays, and holidays, and summer picnics. I even thought about...if you and Rose had a kid too...what that could've been like."

Daryl's heart flipped when she said that, though he let her keep talking. He was only half paying attention to the rest, the remainder of his mind elsewhere, wondering if he and Rose would ever get to become parents like they had talked about before. It was a strange and scary thought, him becoming a father, but it somehow seemed simple doing it with her right by his side. She always made everything so much easier, like life was worth living.

His ears perked back up when Beth went on to talk about how she thought her dad would've lived the rest of his life in peace. How she felt stupid for thinking something like that considering the world they were living in now, wiping a few tears from her eyes.

But Daryl just shook his head, "Nah, that's how it was supposed to be. I never thought I was stupid enough to fall in love...but she's just...perfect." he said, staring off into space with a certain glint to his eye that caused Beth to smile.

She sat up a little straighter, hoping that he would keep going. This was it, he was finally going to open up about Rose.

"I only knew her for a little while before I realized how much I liked her. She always made me feel all that stupid mushy shit, could make me nervous just by lookin at me...hell, she still can." he quietly admitted.

"Couldn't believe she actually wanted to be with someone like me...but I guess she always managed to see the best in me. She never treats me like m' less than anybody else, like my past don't matter to her. I guess I became a better man because of her. But...I mainly became a better man for her. She's just so good...and perfect and I...I fuckin lost her." his voice broke towards the end, causing tears to return to Beth's eyes as she shook her head.

"It's not your fault." she assured, "You've been working yourself into the ground trying to find her...you can't blame yourself for that." she said.

Daryl only nodded in response; he didn't trust his voice not to break anymore when talking about her. And it was true, he couldn't say her name. He didn't feel like he had to explain himself to her on why he didn't, not needing to give anyone an explanation about his feelings. But at the same time, he almost wanted her to know.

"I don't say her name cause I don't wanna," he started slowly, "I don't say her name...cause I can't." he finished barely above a whisper.

"It's painful...I get it," Beth said softly, "She was so kind. She was the friend I didn't know I needed until I had her. She always looked out for me ever since I first asked her to teach me how to play guitar. But I always knew she did it because she actually wanted to, not because she felt like she had to. She's like a sister to me now...and I know how much it hurts to lose her because...I know how special she is."

Tears were streaming down her face now as she too opened up more than she would expect, trying to pull herself together as she wiped her cheeks, "I miss her so much." she quietly admitted.

Daryl ducked his head down as he nodded in silent agreement, hoping Beth couldn't see his own tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. But even if he tried to hide it, she knew.

A few minutes of silence passed over them and they both just sat there thinking. Rose had become a big part of both of their lives, and Daryl now realized that's what they had in common, even though Beth knew it from the very beginning.

It started to come together for him that she was important to Beth too; how the girl was hurting just as bad at the loss. He knew he needed to take a step back, not be as much of a dick to her as he had been, even though it wasn't on purpose. It was just all the overwhelming emotions pouring over. But still, he made a silent vouch to try.

"She's still out there." Beth spoke after a moment, nodding to herself as if she believed it more than anything else in the world.

"...I know."

~ Thanks for reading!

Taglist - @justareader95 @hayley1998 @ryoujoking @sipsthecoffee @winterassassin1804 @marsmallow433 @catlalice @writingstreetspirit @silentlysuffering98

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mama-scarebear · 8 months

Note

I envision myself walking hurriedly in the brisk coolness of the evening. I know this route like the back of my hand but I’m all too caught up in the presence looming a few paces behind me. You’ve been trailing me for a few blocks now after having seen me leave work. My heels pound the pavement a little quicker as my heartbeat seems to beat to the same rhythm. In my state of heightened anxiety, I panic and wander down an alleyway I definitely thought was a throughway to the other side of the block. My heart leaps to my throat as I realize I’ve wandered into the wrong alley, though I don’t have too much time to process or rethink my route before I feel a pinch to the side of my neck. The smile playing on your lips is the last I see before my vision goes completely black 💎

Now you may think you'd wake up in a nursery but such soft comforts need to be earned with good behavior. No at first you'd be in a dark bare room. The only source of stimulus being the clinking of your chains that are bolted to the floor and wall. Eventually you'd get food. Yucky disgusting baby foods and bottles. Though between starving and using your hands to shovel it into your mouth I'm sure I know what you'd pick. Then would come the first test. A simple plastic potty placed in the room. If you use it you salvage your pride but prolong your suffering. Eventually you'll have an accident, whether forced or naturally. When you do you'll pass. The disgusting mess in your panties will get cleaned up by yours truly and you'll be placed in a thick diaper. The first bit of comfort in ages. You'll also earn yourself your first bed. And from there? Well there's many more tests to come

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generic-whumperz · 8 months

Text

CW: starvation & withholding food, restraints, gag, creepy Whumper

Whumper sits at the kitchen table, feasting on Whumpee’s favorite meal in front of them. Whumpee is bound and gagged on the floor several feet away, glaring at Whumper who’s happily shoveling bite after delicious bite of food in their mouth.

Whumpee is starving.

Whumper crudely moans in ostentatious delight from each mouthful—an obvious effort to provoke their prisoner and further needle their way under their skin like an annoying splinter that only digs itself deeper and deeper with every effort to remove it.

Whumpee can see the swirling heat wafting from Whumper’s take-out container as the mouthwatering aroma causes them to salivate profusely; drool pools around their gag and drips down in long, stringy globs down their shirt.

Their stomach aches from hunger pains, grumbling loudly in drawn-out, obnoxious warbling gurgles. Their primal need for substance is the only thing curbing the embarrassment of their body’s noisy biological functions.

Whumper takes heed of Whumpee’s groaning body, stopping mid-bite to shoot them a playful smirk.

“Want a bite, Whumpee?” Whumper taunts in a harmonic tone before indulging in another mouthful.

They hum in delight, talking as they chew, “Hm, god, this is sooo good. I can see why this is your favorite. Definitely makes my top five. Real hole-in-the-wall place, but goddamn, is this some ta-sty grub. One-way ticket to flavor town, amirite?”

Whumper swallows and then glances down at Whumpee.

“How’s this—I undo that gag, and you get to eat, but only under one condition…”

Whumpee listens eagerly, lightly pulling on their restraints, shifting as much as the rope would allow; the scratchy fibers chafe their irritated, raw skin from days spent tied up.

A wicked smile tugs up the corners of Whumper’s mouth.

“I feed you,” they purr.

Whumpee’s cheeks bloom hot from shame as a knot in their stomach tightens.

They are so hungry.

They need food—however they can get it, the details don't matter.

Whumpee shallowly nods once, their reply an inglorious and dubious ‘yes.’

Whumper lights up in delight from finally coaxing Whumpee to comply with their wishes and eagerly wipes their mouth with a napkin.

“Excellent! I knew it was only a matter of time before you’d give in to me, Whumpee,” Whumper winks.

Whumpee already regrets their forced decision.

#can you tell I wrote this when I was hungry?#scraped and saved from the drafts #whump scenario #whump scenes #captive whumpee #whumpee x whumper #creepy whumper #starvation whump #Generic Writez

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imliketheiceifreeze · 2 years

Text

Human Miles Quaritch x reader

Good girl-part 1

warnings: smut, swearing, minors DNI

4,491 words

PART TWO

background info:

you are a 25 year old botanist, closely shadowing Grace Augustine when you are forced to spend time with the very man you and your whole department despise in order to be granted access to a mission on Pandora; can you come to an arrangement that would suit you both?

You were deep in thought as you worked side by side with the great Grace Augustine, in her element as she sampled plants, her findings surprising even herself. It seemed the connection between Pandoran flora and the planet itself was much more intertwined than you ever would've believed.

"Can you believe it, ranger rick is requiring you to go through his bootcamp before you're allowed on the next mission, he'll delay the whole project, and with my best scientist too,"

Grace huffed as she paced back and forth in the lab, retrieving varying pieces of equipment and samples in a panicked flurry.

"What?"

You hissed lowly.

"Yeah you better believe it, I want you to kick that asshole in the balls if you get the chance,"

she growled, exasperated with the head of security's constant meddling in the science department, a place he didn't and would never understand.

"But why, why me?"

You whined, almost dropping your pipette at the thought of the horrors that man would put you through to ensure you were 'mission ready.'

"You're the only scientist that's not been out in Pandora yet, apparently it's part of a new safety regime, personally I think he's just doing it to get under my skin,"

she continued, finally ceasing her bustling around the room in a panic, settling one hand on her hip as she pondered all the possible solutions.

"I'd say.."

You mused in turn, the room falling silent as you both thought.

"Well I guess I'd better buck up and kick his ass,"

She laughed at the though, oh you were going to beat that man if it cost you your life

"Haha, and do it in the next week if that's alright,"

Grace chuckled a long, obviously amused at the thought of finally putting such an arrogant man in his place.

"Oh you bet I will."

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

You were informed that you would be attending daily strengthening and sparring sessions with the Colonel, in order for him to assess your abilities, your first session starting that very evening.

"God, I really don't want to do this, it's bullshit,"

you moaned aloud, head in hands as you addressed the table full of colleagues, all sympathising with your predicament. You hated the smug man, always wearing those stupid tank tops to show off his-admittedly muscular- arms, smirking at everyone like he was better than them.

"You never know, maybe you'll enjoy it,"

someone wiggled their eyebrows making you gag dramatically, pushing them playfully.

"If I ever enjoy that man, I want you to shoot me in the face,"

you deadpanned, making the table erupt into laughter once more, you, however, did not laugh, being deadly serious, and instead decided to distract yourself by shovelling food into your mouth as if you might be at risk of starving. That was until you felt a large hand gripping your shoulder, turning your head to find its owner, your eyes were met with a cold stare belonging to Colonel Quaritch.

"Y/N,"

he grinned, squeezing your flesh whilst his eyes tracked your movements like a predator watching its prey.

"Colonel,"

you seethed, ripping your shoulder from his grasp as if his touch burned, eyes still locked onto his, waiting for him to reveal his reasons for interrupting you important meal. He simply tapped his watch as he eyed you.

"I believe our first session is upon us,"

he spoke slowly, that same smug smile painted across his face, the one you knew he wore only to cover up his aggression.

"I need to change,"

you spoke dumbfounded, as if it were his fault and not your own poor timekeeping skills.

"Well you better hurry up, I expect you at the gym in 15, don't make me wait,"

he scolded, waltzing off like a peacock as your eyes dragged up from his heavy boots to the back of his head, hoping to burn holes in it.

"For fucks sake,"

you mumbled, pretending to bash your head in on the table before swinging your legs out from the bench and half jogging out of the hall, ignoring Grace's yell to 'not have too much fun', causing a scowl to pinch at your eyebrows, yet you had no time for a witty comeback. For as confident as you were talking shit about the Colonel to Grace and her colleagues, when faced with his looming presence, you couldn't deny the fear that prickled down the back of your spine, especially when he looked at you like he was about to eat you.

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

"Well well well, any later and I would've made you drop and give me 100."

He teased as you sprinted in, bent over and panting before the session had even begun. You said nothing at this comment though, suddenly feeling a little shy being in such an enclosed space with the intimidating man.

"You do any sports Y/N?"

He questioned, his tone now serious as he cocked his hip, one hand resting on his belt buckle.

"I dance a little."

you answered, causing a flash of surprise to cross his features as he clapped his hands together.

"Great, good to know you're not completely sedentary like the other science pukes,"

he laughed making your nose wrinkle in anger.

"Now first is fitness, so I want you to run laps around this room until I tell you to stop,"

he instructed, nodding his head at you expectantly as you groaned in annoyance, starting up another jog and beginning to fulfil his wishes, albeit reluctantly.

The man was gruelling, having you shaking after only the 'warmup' was complete, now looking up at him incredulously from your hands and knees after he'd forced you to show him another 20 press-ups.

"Gotta say, I'm impressed, most the other tree huggers would've tapped out by now,"

he grinned causing you to rise up shakily with your fists clenched at your sides.

"Yeah, well I'm not a quitter,"

you spat, holding his intense gaze, your words only seeming to amuse him further.

"Hm I can see that,"

he nodded with an unreadable expression.

"Go and get a drink, when you come back we'll start with some basic self defence,"

he grunted, watching you jog over to your water, taking greedy gulps from the bottle, the sweet relief from the burning in your throat making you moan in delight, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. Once you'd moved the bottle from your lips, your eyes shot to the side, suddenly aware of the Colonel's intense gaze, making you feel exposed as you wiped the water dripping from your chin hastily so as not to make a mess. He coughed to ease the silence before speaking again, more softly than usual,

"You ready?"

You nodded, walking swiftly over to his side, ready to receive instruction.

"Your daddy ever teach you how to punch?"

He asked condescendingly, making your eyes narrow, your body acting before your brain could comprehend, throwing an admittedly feeble, hit to his jaw that he blocked with ease, a deep laugh ripping from his throat as he did.

"I'll take that as a no,"

he jibed, doing nothing to dissipate your anger.

"Come on stand properly,"

he tutted in annoyance, using one leg to kick apart your own before moving your arms up to your face.

"Keep these here to block,"

he grunted, placing one hand on your hip, causing your breath to hitch at his closeness.

"When you punch with this arm, twist from here to give you power,"

he manoeuvred one of your arms with calloused hands to show what he meant, his grip surprisingly gentle on your waist, causing your body temperature to rise exponentially. You'd never really had the chance to look at him up close until now but he wasn't bad to look at, you wondered if he had a wife or girlfriend back home. Then it hit you, what you were feeling for a man you'd always claimed you hated, yet in that moment all you wanted was for him to bend you over on that gym floor and take you for all you were worth.

"You got that darlin'?"

He stifled a laugh at your obvious staring, you looked like a deer in headlights as a crimson blush crawled its way up from your neck to your cheeks.

"Yes sir,"

you breathed, voice barely above a whisper, his presence starting to affect you much more than you'd hoped. He stood back, letting go of you, much to your dismay, as he raised both palms, flat, either side of his face.

"Come at me then."

You sat back in a lunge, placing your feet like he said before and twisting your body to land one punch to his left palm.

"You call that a hit, go again,"

he growled, causing you to come back harder.

"Better, again."

His lesson continued on much the same, with him ordering you to punch quicker, hold yourself stronger, all while he didn't seem to be breaking a sweat, those blue eyes following your every move.

"Sir, how is punching your hand gonna help me survive Pandora?"

You whined, tired out after half an hour of relentless jabs.

"You questioning my teachings doll? what do you suggest then huh?"

You rolled your eyes at his condescending attitude, ceasing your assault on his reddened hands as you sat back in your hip to think.

"I want to spar,"

you concluded suddenly, causing a choking laugh to rip from the man above you, his chest heaving with the force of his amusement.

"You, want to spar with me?"

He accentuated the words by pressing a finger into your sternum before pointing back to himself, a look of disbelief settled into his features as he waited for a response.

"That's what I said isn't it? Or are you scared?"

You teased, catching your lip between your teeth as a devious smile crossed your lips.

"Oh that's how you wanna play, alright then lil darlin', do your worst,"

he stepped back to allow you room to attack as he positioned himself, eyes tracking your body movements like a fox. You wanted him to attack first to give you the upper hand but you could see he wasn't going to give you the satisfaction. So you did what you knew you could, lunging towards him you threw a fist to his jaw, but like the last time he caught your wrist, using it to lock your arm behind you and pulling you into his chest.

"I thought I already taught you how to punch,"

he mused, pulling your arm tighter, causing you to moan in pain as you struggled against him.

"Obviously not well enough,"

you seethed, lifting a leg behind you to crash a foot into his crown jewels, as per Grace's request.

"Ah you little shit,"

he grunted, falling to his knees with the pain, dragging you down with him as he pushed you onto your elbows and knees, his own body caging you to the mat as he breathed heavily against your ear.

"Looks like you're mine,"

his husky voice graced your ears making a poorly suppressed shiver wrack your body, able to feel his body heat so well through your back, it was driving you crazy. Instead of squirming out of his hold you dropped limp against the mat in submission, turning your head to the side to meet his eyes.

"you're heavy,"

you moaned in aggravation, wondering why he still had you pinned to the floor. At your words he removed himself swiftly, sitting back on his knees with a groan, but before he could rise to standing, you had spun into a crouching position, launching yourself at the Colonel to throw him off balance, falling back onto his ass with a grunt. You bounced into a straddling position before sliding your hips to lean against his chest, pinning all your weight into one arm pressed against his neck as you shuffled around to keep your balance. What you didn't expect was one large hand flying to your hip, gripping it like a vice as Quaritch closed his eyes in pain.

"Jesus Christ, stop moving Y/N,"

he all but groaned making your face heat up, suddenly aware of the intimate position, especially when his fingers began to rub slow circles on your hipbone, as if to calm himself. Once opened, his eyes were lazy as they watched you, settling on your face but flicking down to where you sat on his hips once or twice.

"Not that I mind, but you planning on sitting there all day?"

Quaritch smirked, both hands now resting either side of your hips as you sat up, frozen in place by his unwavering stare. Snapping out of your daze quickly, you scrambled out of his lap, heat now throbbing in your body at his suggestive words.

"Oh no you don't."

You heard a voice ring out before you were, once again, pinned to the floor, this time on your back, with the colonel above you, his elbows resting either side of your face as he leaned down to whisper against your ear.

"I think this means I win Darlin',"

his voice, his body, his lips brushing your earlobe, it was all too much for you and you turned your head away from him letting out a pitiful whine as your core throbbed, begging for attention.

"What was that baby? I couldn't quite hear you,"

his voice was strained, now directed against your neck as his lips ghosted your skin, letting them press a few gentle kisses here and there on his journey to your shoulder. You really couldn't help the way your back arched against him desperately or the feeble noises that escaped your mouth.

"Colonel, stop,"

you panted, one arm coming up to grip his back, tugging him in hopes he'd press himself closer.

"Stop?"

He spoke surprised, pulling off of you almost completely as he took in your blushing form, it almost made him laugh how quickly you'd submitted to him in spite of your fighting talk.

"Hmh stop teasing me,"

you whispered in embarrassment, arms coming to cling at the sides of his tank top as you eyed him needily. At your words Quaritch ground himself a little into you, making a moan slip past your lips as he leaned back over, kissing along your jaw and sucking at your pulse causing your breath to hitch, hands still clamped around his shirt.

"Oh I'd never tease you baby,"

The Colonel cooed, pulling back swiftly to yank off his tank, contrary to his words, watching the way that your eyes raked across his naked torso with pride, before reattaching to your neck, teeth grazing your skin occasionally as you writhed in his hold. The tension of the situation was becoming too much for you to bear when you brought your hands up to his silver hair, running your nails across his scalp, pulling a groan from his own lips.

"Then kiss me,"

you breathed, tugging his hair to pull him from her chest, wanting to look at his handsome features once more. Those stormy blue eyes pierced into you as you admired him. You'd never admit it but those scars that marred his face made you so much wetter. You reached a hand to run against the raised lines through his hair, his intense gaze never faltering.

"Yes ma'am,"

a whisper of a laugh left him before he leant down to capture your lips in his, the shock of the sensation making you moan before his mouth began to massage your own. You were lost in the feeling of him and once he slipped his tongue through your lips, you knew you were done for, the warm muscle licking softly into your mouth as his hands gripped your hips, rolling them against his own. You were thankful that your wanton moans were muffled by his mouth as you crumbled against him, one leg wrapping around his waist to pull him closer as you ran your fingers through his short hair.

"Easy girl, you do that and I can't guarantee I won't fuck you right here."

He grunted, landing a soft spank to your thigh, but you were well passed self respect.

"Hm please, please, I can't take it,"

you whined, drunk on the pleasure Quaritch was giving you.

"Fuck, you're driving me crazy,"

he groaned in frustration tipping his head back.

"You want me to fuck you right here, where anyone could see you, such a fucking whore baby,"

he snarled, pulling at his belt to open the clasp, his words made you whimper though, worried you might be acting too desperate.

"com'ere,"

he spoke, more softly this time at your forlorn face, pressing a kiss to your lips as he fiddled with the button of his trousers, unzipping the fly and pulling out his half hard cock before stroking it in front of your wide eyes to bring it to full mast. It was thick and pink at the tip, leaking a little precum causing squelching noises to reverberate around the empty room as his hand continued its ministrations. Seeing your still form he leant back over you, slipping his fingers under the waistband of your shorts as his eyes met yours.

"You okay? we can stop if you want to,"

He voiced a little worriedly in response to your wide eyed gaze.

"No, don't stop, please,"

you protested, wiggling out of your gym shorts in a hurry, desperate to feel him inside of you at long last. He reached his fingers down, pulling your underwear to the side, slowly easing in one thick digit which you sucked in eagerly causing him to breathe sharply.

"Fuck so wet for me already, you're really clamping down on me there honey,"

he groaned, eyes locked onto your sex, wiggling in a second finger quickly before pumping it a few times, the feeling having you seeing stars, especially when he curled his fingers a certain way that had you writhing on the floor and calling out for him.

"I think you're ready baby,"

he grunted, lining up his cock with your entrance and pushing the head in swiftly, despite the discomfort it was causing you.

"Shit, you gotta ease up baby I can't move,"

he choked out, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he looked up to the ceiling as if in need of guidance.

"Mmm Colonel, feels good, keep going,"

you encouraged, pushing your own hips forward to ease him in further causing him to grunt and fall to his elbows.

"Fuck keep still for a minute,"

he gasped, tapping your hip at the instruction before gripping your thigh and hoisting one leg over his shoulder. You laid still, getting used to the stretch, although, feeling a little embarrassed now laid out bare in the RDA gym with your Colonel's cock half inside you.

"You ready?"

He huffed finally, icy eyes meeting yours with a predatory gaze.

"Yes sir,"

you grinned, liking how easy it was to rile him up and at that comment his hips snapped completely to the hilt until he was fully breached, the length almost touching your cervix, a low moan rumbling from your throat in response, it felt like he was almost in your airways.

"Always knew you were a little minx, just wanted someone to punish you properly didn't you?"

He growled, setting a ferocious pace that had you sliding back with the force, hands grappling behind you for the non existent bed-post.

"Only you sir, just wanted you to punish me,"

you cried, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, back arching up into him with every hit to that certain spot inside of you.

"Yeah, it's just for me isn't it, my little whore,"

he groaned a reply, his thrusts becoming impossibly rougher as he caught your clawing hands in his own, bringing them to his back, allowing you to rake your nails into his skin as you endlessly searched for something to ground your against the way he was fucking you dumb.

Neither of you bothered keep down the noises of your sinful actions, both too lost in the pleasure of one another to even care.

"Colonel, I'm gonna, I need,"

you babbled, unable to even form a coherent sentence when you felt the pressure build up inside you from the way his cock was massaging your insides so nicely.

"Be a good girl and come for your Colonel then,"

he grunted, reaching down to rub circles over your clit, making you squeal, locking your leg around his shoulder as you shuddered, the dam inside you bursting as you gripped onto him tightly.

"That's it, shit, good girl, come all over my cock,"

he cooed, his hips stuttering in time with the fluttering of your walls.

"So tight, gripping me like a vice darlin',"

he groaned, punching three more hard thrusts into your slick cunt before he spilled his load inside you, calling out your name as he did it, the spurts of hot cum painting your walls as his, causing you to moan out hoarsely as you held on to him for dear life.

You were both completely spent, Quaritch pulling out quickly before he collapsed onto to the floor beside you, panting from the exertion of your activities.

"Com'ere baby,"

he muttered, tugging you into his side, strong arms wrapping around your waist, face nuzzling your hair whilst you lay on his chest, listening to the soothing sound of his steady heartbeats, drawing patterns aimlessly on his abdomen, neither of you caring about your incriminating positions.

"Mm, Colonel"

you mumbled into his sternum, eyes fluttering closed in exhaustion, causing a lazy chuckle to arise from above you.

"You all fucked out sweetheart?"

His unscrupulous expression and tilting head never failing to rile you up when he wore that same cunning grin, even if he was right.

"Not like you're any better,"

you grumbled, huffing childishly in annoyance.

"Yeah, I gotta admit you're right on that one, you're a fiery little thing aren't you."

He swatted your ass as he spoke, causing a delighted smile to grace your own lips this time.

"Gave me the battle scars to show for it and everything,"

he continued, eyes trained on his stomach causing you to follow his gaze in confusion before you spied the bright red claw marks littering his skin, dragging all the way down from his shoulders to his hips and you could only imagine the kind damage his back had taken. The sight made a possessive feeling well up in your chest, especially at the thought of someone else seeing them, knowing that he'd fucked you so good. He watched intently as your eyes widened in shock before a smirk settled on your face, fingers tracing the welts on his skin gently.

"Those might be a bit more of a pain to hide though,"

he mused, bringing you out of your thoughts as a singular finger dragged along your neck and shoulder.

"What do you mean?"

You asked dumbly, only when you pulled your shoulder up to your eyes did you become aware of the dark purple blotches he had left, one being shaped suspiciously like the indentation of teeth, making you glower in mock anger.

"Don't act like you weren't the one begging me to rail you darlin',"

he sent you a self-satisfied smirk making you scoff, unable to reply with more than a meagre,

"asshole,"

as you both lay there in comfortable silence, too worn out to make any move to redress or make yourselves look at least a little presentable, that was until you heard the sounds of footsteps readily approaching the gym hall along with the muffled voices of soldiers.

"Shit,"

you exclaimed, scrambling for your shorts thrown halfway across the room as Quaritch too pulled on his shirt, urgently zipping himself back into his cammies, wide eyes meeting yours.

"Oh hey, Colonel...."

Lyle spoke as he and Z-dog stopped in their tracks, taking in your dishevelled appearances and awkward demeanor as you stood about a foot apart

"Y/N?"

His voice rose up when he said your name, as if he were questioning your presence as Z-dog let out an undignified snort from behind him. You knew it wouldn't take a genius to figure out the kind of training you and the Colonel had been doing wasn't exactly RDA standard, only to be further confirmed when you felt the slow dripping of warm liquid from between your thighs and onto the floor below, hurriedly crossing your legs in shame, why the hell did you let him come inside you in the first place?

Luckily, the Colonel's audaciousness saved you any further embarrassment, marching up to his soldiers he barked,

"This gym is occupied for assessments, go train somewhere else and make it quick,"

practically herding them out of the door and slamming it shut behind them before striding back over to your paled form.

"You alright Y/N?"

He placed one hand on your lower back, crouching slightly to meet your eyes with a look of sincerity.

"Fucking hell, do you think they know?"

"Hah, you mean do I think they spotted my cum dripping down your legs? Not sure baby but I sure did,"

he pushed your crossed thighs apart, eyes glowing with amusement at the sight.

"Such a good girl taking your Colonel's cum like that,"

he teased, pulling you closer to his chest before tilting your chin with his fingers, refusing to look away from your wide eyes.

"Don't you dare call me that around other people,"

you glowered, lips brushing his when you spoke.

"Wouldn't dream of it darlin',"

he replied in his gruff tone, pressing a tender kiss to your lips that almost had your knees buckling all over again.

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

"Well I don't know what in the hell kind of voodoo you pulled but Quaritch is allowing you to go on the upcoming mission, no delays, even said he was impressed by your stamina!"

Grace emoted with a cigarette in hand, not fully understanding the sentiment of his words, oh but you did, blushing deeply at the memory.

"Wow, who'd have thought,"

you barely squeaked out as you fiddled haphazardly with the test tubes in front of your hands.

"Knew I could count on you to take him by the balls Y/N,"

she nodded, slapping your back gratefully, spurring a coughing fit from you, mind flicking back to your most recent encounter with the colonel which had you on your knees for him obediently beneath his desk.

"Yep, always happy to,"

you stuttered out, causing Grace to raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"Huh?"

"I mean, no aha, just, doing my duty,"

you clumsily filled the silence, not missing the look of surprise held by Grace which she quickly pushed away, taking another drag to distract herself from your strange behaviour.

"Right..."

end

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