#also i had squirrels in the walls there too
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The Lesson of Reality
[Rick Grimes and Child!Reader]
Synopsis: You accidentally get a lot more “experience” than what Rick had planned.
WC: 3080
Category: Slight Angst, S6!Rick (no TOWL spoilers) {TW — Gore, Violence, Walkers, Blood, Death}
There’s so many fics about Daryl being a father figure that it’s about time that Rick had his Joel Miller moment (especially now that all the episodes of The Ones Who Live have aired). So have fun with this cute Protective!Rick moment.
『••✎••』
They say when times are tough, people can rise to the occasion and show their true colors. For some, it's an opportunity to prove they can survive the hardships and come out the other side stronger, wiser, and more experienced. Then there is the scum of the earth. They will take any opportunity to steal, kill, and hurt others while they try and make it out unscathed.
For Rick, he wanted you to be part of the former. He always saw your potential to become a fighter—a survivor. Hell, you made it this long by yourself, after all. You had to learn and adapt to the world.
And given your age, it was a hard thing to accomplish.
Your innocence didn't help, either. On one hand, he wanted to keep you as innocent and childlike as possible for as long as he could. The world was already a shit-show. The least you could do was still have the mentality of the child you were supposed to be. Being only ten years old, it was the right thing to do.
But then he remembers what the world was like now. If he let you live with that naivety, it'd get you killed. And it didn’t matter how intelligent you were because even if it saved your ass a few times, it won’t forever.
The fact of the matter is you were going to be hurt no matter what. And you had to be prepared for it.
He had already shown his own son, Carl, the harshness of the new world. He didn't want to do it, but the world left him no choice. And he couldn't deny the boy the means to defend himself and his family.
And even if you weren’t his kid, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do the same for you.
He just needed the right time to teach you… to remind you that Alexandria isn’t the safest place on the planet.
The perfect time came when the Wolves attacked the group, and the gates were broken down.
After all the tragedy and loss, and Alexandria started to rebuild and strengthen their walls once again, Rick decided then was the time to toughen you up.
And thus, there you were, sitting on a tree stump as Rick stood in front of you, knife in hand, and Daryl beside him.
Eugene was also there, but he was standing to the side, watching with mild curiosity.
“You sure ‘bout this?” Daryl asked, looking from you to Rick, brows furrowed in concern. “It’s good takin' 'em outside the walls, but now? After everything that just happened, I mean? The people need yah right now, man. And the last thing we need is for the lil' squirt here to get hurt, too. Yer already lookin' rough as it is."
"I'll be fine, Daryl," Rick replied, his eyes not leaving yours. “Besides, I won’t be gone long. It’s just a quick look around. In and out, and then I'll be back. Two days, tops.”
Everyone around you seemed to be on edge, with the attack on the walls still fresh in their minds. But you?
Well, you were too busy staring at the shiny, shiny knife. Excitement shone in your eyes as your fingers twitched.
Truth be told, ever since Daryl and Aaron found you alone, wandering the woods and eating raw squirrel, and brought you to Alexandria, you felt as if something was missing.
You had never been the most social kid. You had the bare minimum amount of friends at school. None of them stuck around after you were pulled out of school. You had no close relatives that wanted you around. No father figure and the only motherly presence in your life was gone before you understood the new reality.
And while there were other kids in Alexandria, the older ones were already too busy trying to act like adults, and the younger ones were too immature. Sam, the kid that had once been closest to your age, was just a crybaby who didn’t know any better. He was scared of the dark and the idea of a walker. He never went outside the walls, so it was no wonder.
It was like living in a house full of strangers. They were all kind to you, but there was something missing.
But the Grimes family? Well, you couldn't help but feel more comfortable around them. Carl didn’t seem to like you, at least not at first, but ever since the “Wolves” attack and sudden loss of his eye, he was becoming nicer.
And then there was Rick. He was always kind, but after the incident, he became even kinder. More attentive and caring. Always checking on you, making sure you were safe and comfortable. Something about that night must've really changed him because he's been different since then.
And you liked it. You felt more comfortable around him. You didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was because he had saved you from a walker, or perhaps it was the way he talked to you, but you enjoyed his company.
You also loved destroying him in Gin Rummy. With the mix of his shocked expression and Michonne’s laughter, it was priceless.
Rick looked back at Daryl, who was still giving him a doubtful expression. But it wasn’t a no. So, Rick took it as a sign of agreement.
Daryl huffed and put a hand on his hip, shifting his weight to his right side. "Alright, alright. But if somethin' goes wrong, I won’t hesitate to tell ya I told ya so, yah hear me?”
Rick snorted. "Wouldn’t expect any less from you."
Daryl rolled his eyes and shook his head, a smirk on his lips. He gave you one more glance, and then he turned and left.
With that out of the way, Rick focused on the task at hand. That’s when Eugene made his presence known. He was the man with the map, so to speak.
He came over and laid the map of the area on the ground in front of you.
"I've marked the areas of the woods I believe would be best suited for your scavenging mission. However, should your route take a turn, there are several alternate routes to get back. There are also a few marked areas with potential food sources, water, and the possibility of tools or other survival necessities.
"Thank you, Eugene. I appreciate this," Rick said, putting a hand on the man's shoulder. Eugene smiled and nodded.
"You're welcome, sir. Now, if you'll excuse me, Rosita and I have an appointment at the gate to inspect and repair the damaged panels.” Eugene stood up and straightened his clothes, and then he was gone, heading back to the gate.
"Ready?" Rick asked. You looked up at him, smiling, and gave a nod. Soon, you were off into the rusty car that Daryl had brought from outside the walls.
You sat in the back seat, along with the bags semi-full of supplies and some extra weapons. Most of them belonged to Rick, however, so all you had was your old baseball cap.
And, of course, the old switchblade that Daryl gave you a while back.
For most of the scavenge trip, it was peaceful. The occasional walker showed up here and there, but for the most part, they were few and far between.
You found a lot of supplies. Food, medicine, clothes, and anything else you could think of. Rick also made sure to teach you how to pick locks, avoid traps, and a bunch of other skills.
But, of course, as things go, something has to go wrong.
A group of walkers, about twenty or so, showed up. It was no big deal. It was a lot, but nothing you couldn't handle.
You and Rick quickly got to work, taking them out one by one. You had gotten good with your knife, and with some pointers from Rick, you were practically a pro.
And then there was Rick, swinging his machete, stabbing and slashing his way through the herd. His face was a mix of focus and calm. It was impressive.
But the problem wasn’t the walkers. You were both doing fine. The problem was the aftermath. When the last walker fell to your feet, a gun rose and pointed at Rick's head.
And the guy holding the gun? Well, he looked like a psychopath. He had a smile that sent shivers down your spine, and it didn't help that the sun was starting to set.
"Hey there. Nice work taking out those rotters. But I'm going to have to ask you to hand over the bags and all the weapons you have. Oh, and I love that baseball cap. That'll be mine, too."
Well, Rick wanted you to toughen up. It seemed the universe had the same idea.
Somehow, you ended up behind Rick, shielded from the man and his gun. Your heart was pounding in your ears as the adrenaline kicked in. You didn't know what to do.
Rick didn't, either. Not when a group of armed men stepped out of the trees and aimed their guns at him. He didn't even have the time to reach for his machete.
Rick raised his hands, but his body was tense.
"Don't," was the only thing he said. His voice was stern, a growl hidden underneath. The man grinned and laughed.
"Oh, I'm gonna have fun with you," the man sneered.
Suddenly, all of them charged forward, grabbing the two of you. Your cap was taken, and Rick's machete was tossed away.
Despite the stronghold, Rick was able to kick and punch his way through his attackers. Even with the gun being pointed at him and the man pulling the trigger, he still managed to dodge the bullet and throw a few more punches.
The man growled, but the smile didn't leave his face.
"Feisty, aren't you? I love a challenge."
With a flick of his wrist, he knocked the butt of the gun against Rick's temple, sending him to the ground.
"Rick!" You yelled but were cut off when someone grabbed you by the hair and pulled, eliciting a scream from you.
"What a cutie," the man purred, grabbing you by the chin. You tried to pull away, but he held tight.
"How old are you, huh? Six? Seven? Eh, it doesn't matter. All kids are the same. Little shits who don't know their place."
You took that as a sign. You spat in his face. He didn't even flinch. In fact, the smile only widened. It pissed you off so much that you did the one thing that would definitely take a smile off his face.
You saw it done once, with a foot. A woman back in Alexandria seemed upset with a man, and she took her boot and kicked him right where you aimed your switchblade.
You weren't sure if it was a good idea, but it was the only thing you could think of.
So you did. And let me tell you, that was one of the few times you had ever heard someone scream so loud. He dropped you in an instant, unfortunately taking the knife with him.
“Son of a-!! You little-!!” Pain and anger laced the man's words as he clutched himself. You scrambled back, watching with wide eyes as he slowly recovered.
He didn’t dare try to crawl over to you, though. He didn’t trust his body to move.
Instead, he turned his attention to his side, where his small pistol had been tossed. He reached over and picked it up, pointing the barrel in your direction.
“I was gonna be nice… maybe have a little fun, but now?” He let out a painful chuckle. The smile was still there, but it was laced with anger. He groaned in pain, and his body shook.
Still, his hands remained steady.
"You little shit. I outta blow your head off. Let the rotters tear you apart, limb from limb. Would serve you right.”
Rick's heart stopped at that. The gun was aimed at you, and he was too far away. Even if he charged, he wouldn't make it in time.
There was no other option.
Just as the man squinted his eyes, about to pull the trigger, the sound of a gunshot rang through the air. It made the man jump and look around, right in time to see one of his men fall to the ground.
"What the-?"
You turned and saw Rick tussling with another man, the one holding a gun, who was fighting for control.
The man who had his gun pointed at you took the opportunity to shoot it again, but you were prepared enough to duck out of the way.
The bullet went into a tree, and by the time the next one fired, he was the last one standing.
And boy, was he pissed. The bullet once again missed his target, but only barely.
That was enough, though. Just enough to get Rick to kick the gun out of his hands before pressing his boot right where your pocket knife was still sticking out.
Rick had the advantage, and it was obvious, with the screams of agony coming from the man. He was on his knees, clutching his crotch, and Rick had a firm hand on the back of his head, ready to bash his skull into the ground if need be.
But he didn't. He had other plans.
He pulled out your knife, only to stick it right back into place and then some.
"Ah! You crazy bas-!! Fuck!!"
"You’re going to listen to me. Real good, you’ hear?” Rick’s voice was dark, and the man nodded frantically.
"Grab his gun and come over here."
You did as you were told, picking up the pistol and slowly walking over. The man whimpered, tears staining his cheeks as blood seeped through his pants.
"You're gonna stand there and keep your gun pointed at his head while I tie his hands together. If he even twitches, shoot him."
You gulped but nodded. You kept your arms out, hands as steady as you could make them.
“You sick, twisted, fuckin' asshole. I'll fucking kill you!" The man snarled, his teeth gritting and his face contorted in pain.
"That's cute," Rick said. He was quick to tie the man's wrists together. Rick was just as quick to grab him and force him on his feet before kicking the back of his knees and sending him sprawling on the ground.
"Stay," Rick commanded him like a dog, and you couldn't help but smile a little at the man's pained, angry expression.
Rick quickly gathered the supplies and the bag, and then he was over to you, giving you a once-over.
"You hurt? Bleeding? Anything broken?"
"N-No, I'm okay," you replied, voice wavering a bit.
"Good," he breathed out, and you noticed he was shaking a bit, too. Not enough to notice at first glance, but enough to know that he was trying his hardest not to.
He took the gun from your hands gingerly, and then he was kneeling before the man.
"Who are you?"
The man was silent. Rick didn't wait long before aiming the gun at the man's right thigh.
"Let me rephrase that. Who are you? What's your name?"
"Fuck y—”
Rick shot the man in the thigh without any hesitation. The scream of pain made you jump.
"Try again. Who are you?"
"Aah!! Fuck!! I-I'm Dave, okay? My name's Dave!"
"Okay, Dave. Good. Now, why did you attack us? And don't think I'm above shooting you again, or worse, so be honest. I can tell when someone's lying to me."
"We were just passing through! Saw you and thought, 'Hey, easy pickings!' Didn't expect you to be the goddamn terminator!"
"Passing through to where?"
Silence. Rick sighed and shook his head, but before he could fire another shot, Dave finally caved.
"Back to c-camp. Please, we have family. Wives, children… We meant nothin' by it! We swear! We just-! We were hungry. We were starving! Please, have mercy!"
"Children? Like the one you just threatened to shoot in the head?" Rick growled. Dave flinched.
"N-no, I-"
“Where are they? Down that stream? I saw your tracks earlier. That was you, wasn’t it?"
Dave's silence spoke volumes. Rick looked back at you, and you were staring at the man, wide-eyed and fearful, not of him specifically, but of what Rick could do to him.
Rick took a deep breath and then turned back to Dave.
"How many are there?"
"T-Ten. Maybe eleven."
"Are they armed?"
"J-Just with knives and stuff."
"You got anything else? Any other guns or ammo?"
"N-No. Please, just let us go! We won't bother you again! Just don't hurt me."
Rick looked back at you again. Your eyes were still locked on the man, but you could feel his gaze. You looked up at him.
"With that stunt, you just pulled,” Rick stood up, his eyes still aligned with yours, but he wasn’t speaking to you. He was addressing Dave.
"I can’t take that chance.”
Then the bullet fired, and soon it was just you and Rick with a bunch of corpses.
He quickly holstered the gun and rushed to bags left on the ground.
"What about his family?” Your voice was shaken. You had never seen someone shot like that, point blank.
Rick sighed, pausing in his movements.
"They don’t exist.” Rick stood and turned, looking you in the eye. “I know people like him. If he had a family, they're already dead, or he killed them himself.”
You didn’t break eye contact, “and if you’re wrong? What then?"
Rick didn’t even blink. "Then I saved them a lot of suffering."
Rick didn't like doing this, killing people, taking life. He hated it, really.
But he would be damned if anyone ever laid a hand on his family or his people. Even if it meant getting a little bloody.
You had to turn away from him, from the intensity of his stare.
Rick sighed and walked over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.
"You did good back there. Really good. The world it’s… It ain't kind to people. And even though I hope it never happens, you have to be prepared for anything. For anyone."
Rick squeezed your shoulder, and his voice was gentle.
"And, for what it's worth, I'm proud of you."
#rick grimes#rick grimes x reader#rick grimes and reader#andrew lincoln#rick grimes x child!reader#rick grimes x female reader#rick grimes/reader#rick grimes angst#protective!rick#the walking dead fandom#x reader#fanfic#reader#fanfiction#twd michonne#michonne grimes#the walking dead x reader#daryl dixon angst#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon twd#rick grimes imagine#the ones who live#twd x reader#twd rick grimes#andrew lincoln x reader#judith grimes#rj grimes#daryl dixon x female reader#rick grimes x y/n#rick grimes x you
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I’m Your Fatal Sin
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Setting: Prison Era
Warnings: Typical TWD violence, descriptions of injuries
Summary: Daryl doesn’t like you going outside the safety of the prison.
Prompt: “I will leave now, or I’m going to say things I will regret later.” (Had to write in Daryl speak but it’s the same thing!)
A/N: Second request by @alldevilsarehere90. I took so long writing the first one that I did the second they asked for…and took equally as long. Apparently, “drabble” is not a word I’m familiar with and I should just call these novels. The prompt is waaaay up in the beginning but I just kept going. Sorry again, my friend!
Also, I have not had this checked for errors and my brain is too tired tonight. I’ll go over and fix stuff tomorrow…. Because no beta, we die like men.
You watched him pace the length of the room, fingertips rubbing roughly at his temples as if he was fighting off a headache. That would be you, Y/N. You thought, biting back a chuckle. Your group had arrived back at the prison, battered, bruised, and bleeding but hearts still beating. You counted that as a win.
Daryl was not so easily mollified.
He had stayed behind on this run, having only returned from hunting just as your group was heading out. He wasn’t happy that you were going out without him. It was all so amusing to you, personally. When the two of you had first met back at the quarry, you had taken one of the squirrels he had brought back, held it by the tail, and smacked him upside the head with it after he had said something particularly offensive. It was even funnier that you couldn’t remember now what it was that he had said. Regardless, he had retaliated by soaking you in the blood he drained from the rodent he had been skinning. Even in his anger back then, you had caught the look in his eye.
You weren’t afraid of him.
Your friendship started then and there. You spent more time in the Dixon camp than you had with your own boyfriend. That had not gone over well. Mark was the younger brother of one of Ed Peletier’s friends. The moment Daryl had found you doing laundry and saw the shiner you sported, you were given your own small tent next to his and Merle’s. When the perpetrator had come looking for you, the Dixon brothers had formed an immovable wall in front of you.
You still weren’t sure if Mark had been killed by a walker like Merle had said.
Regardless, you were free. Daryl took you under his wing, teaching you to hunt and defend yourself. When he had finally handed you his beloved crossbow, you had laughed and asked if you needed to buy her dinner before squeezing her trigger.
“Stop.” Daryl had huffed, amusement gleaming in those blue eyes.
You had been out with the younger brother when Merle had been left abandoned. While you were angry, you knew how belligerent the man could be, so Rick’s explanation hadn’t seemed too far fetched to you. You went with the group to try and bring him home. You had taken the brunt of Daryl’s verbal aggression with grace, knowing he was in pain. He would never hurt you. That much you knew. When emotions were running high, Daryl floundered and would try to escape them by any means necessary. Even if that meant bucking against someone he cared about.
Still, you stayed.
Months had passed. You didn’t even try to keep up with that anymore, focusing more on the change of the seasons. It felt less like losing something if you only changed your perspective. The group became a family. You had lost the farm and wandered throughout the winter before finding the prison that was your home now.
You and Daryl had remained steadfast, but he continued to open up, bit by bit. First with Carol, then with Rick. Him coming out of his shell made you happy, watching him become more and more comfortable with the others. You’d be lying, though, if you said you didn’t worry about being replaced.
Then, after choosing the cells you all would call your rooms, you came back from your first shower to find the mattress missing from the one you had selected. Daryl was sitting on the top step that led down to the lower level, waiting for you.
“Did you take my mattress, Dixon?”
“Yep.” So nonchalant, like you had just asked if the sky was blue.
“You gonna tell me why?” You pressed, kicking his hip gently with the toe of your boot.
“Ya stay where I can keep a eye on ya.” He shrugged, continuing to fiddle with his crossbow.
“What if I wanted my own space, huh?” You sat next to him and bumped your shoulder into his.
“Cell ain’t goin’ nowhere. S’there if ya need it.”
You never seemed to need it, perfectly content on sharing his perch with him. You had brought things back from runs; books, pictures, and little what-nots that now decorated the area. He never complained beyond the occasional scoff or eyeroll.
And time marched on. Your role in the group was just as vital as anyone else now. You took watches, went on runs, and helped clear the fence. You lost sleep, gave up your portions of the rations to make sure everyone else stayed fed, and you sustained injuries. You weren’t afraid to get your hands dirty for the good of your family.
Which is exactly why you were now perched on one of the tables in the cafeteria, watching Daryl pace a hole into the concrete floor.
“No one died, Dixon.” You leaned back with your palms pressed against the table, collected demeanor the polar opposite of his pulsing anxiety.
“Ya coulda, though, Y/N!” The man snapped, his longer hair shifting to cover his face when he spun to look at you.
“Calm down before you have a stroke.” You mused with a smile.
“Can ya be serious for five fuckin’ seconds?”
You could have sworn you saw smoke boiling out of his ears. Damn, he was mad. “I am.” You sat up straight with your best attempt at stoicism. “Stress can absolutely trigger a stroke and—” You had started laughing while he stomped over to you and grabbed your shoulders.
“Stop, goddamnit!”
“Okay, okay.” You patted his forearm and willed yourself to choke back the amusement. “We’re all fine, Daryl.” Lips pressed into a thin line, he gave you a nod, one that continued even as he released your left shoulder to roughly flick the bandage on your thigh that concealed a deep cut Hershel had earlier stitched. You were taken aback, eyes widening at the tendrils of pain that snaked out from the tender wound. “Ow.” You deadpanned.
“Coulda been a lot worse, Y/N.” He seemed calmer now but his gaze was still intense, shoulders high and nostrils flaring.
“I know that!” You finally snapped back, twisting around until he let you go altogether and stepped out of your space. “Christ, Daryl, I could die just going to piss! I know how dangerous the things we have to do are!” You hated arguing with him but sometimes, brandishing your own anger was the only way to get through to him. He watched you, obviously chewing on the inside of his cheek before he brought his thumb up to inflict the same abuse.
“Nah, not you. Not anymore.” He shook his head and started to walk away.
“What the—” Pain radiated through your leg when you hastily hopped down a little too roughly in your attempt to keep up with him. “What’s that supposed to mean? Daryl? Daryl!” When he made it clear he had no intention of stopping, you had to sprint to cut him off at the door, pressing your palms against his chest to force him to a halt. “Where are you going? What did you mean?”
“M’tellin’ Rick ya ain’t goin’ out there no more.”
Your eyebrows shot up, mouth falling open. “Excuse me?”
“Ya heard me, Y/N.” He made to step around you but you moved with him. “Go get offa that leg.” He ordered in an attempt to persuade you into relenting. He knew better.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Who the hell are you to say where I can and can’t go?” You seethed. Now it was you who was fuming and pacing, though it wasn’t as intimidating with your profound limp. Daryl crossed his arms and squared his shoulders. You suddenly wanted to punch him square in the nose.
“Ya ain’t got no business out there. Ya can do plenty here to help.”
“Says the man that goes off hunting alone every other day!” You hissed. Your fists were clenched at your sides.
“That’s diff’rent.”
“Oh, please, enlighten me. This I’ve just got to hear.” You laughed emptily and mimicked his stance.
“Ya just ain’t goin’ and that’s that.” When you moved to cut him off again, he was ready. His arm caught you at the chest and kept you from crossing in front of him.
“Goddamnit, Daryl! This isn’t your decision!” You yelled, trailing after him once again. You grabbed his wrist but he shook you off. “I want to help!”
“Ya can help here!” He shot back without looking at you.
“Would you just stop?!”
“Nah.”
“Why the fuck do you even care?!”
That stopped him in his tracks, nearly making you crash into his back. His fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides, his posture radiating with tension. He turned his head to the side and focused on something, anything but you, speaking to you over his shoulder. Somehow, this made you more nervous than his livid pacing.
“Ya even hafta ask?” You didn’t respond, utterly confused. The archer gave you more time than necessary but when you remained silent, he shook his head and changed course, heading outdoors instead of to the cell blocks. “Do whatever ya want.”
Your anger dissipated. “Daryl, wait. Where are you going?”
“M’leavin’ now or I’ma say things I’ll regret later.”
You called his name again but the only reply was the slam of the heavy metal door.
Your search for him didn’t last long. You knew better than anyone that there was no finding Daryl when he didn’t want to be found. In his absence, you did the only thing you could do: sulk.
“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Carol queried, adjusting the basket of laundry on her hip after she stopped by the picnic table you had been perched at for the last 3 hours. Your only response was a heavy sigh. “Staring at the woods won’t make him come back any faster.” Your head shot up to reveal her knowing smile. Aside from you, Carol was the only other person to even relatively understand the younger Dixon. “What’d you argue about?” The silver-haired woman deposited the laundry on the table and took a seat across from you.
“He doesn’t want me to go on runs anymore.” A quiet reply while you toyed with some twine you had been using to hang up things around your space inside.
“And that bothers you?”
“Of course it does!” You snapped before quickly muttering an apology, though Carol didn’t seem affected. “It feels like he doesn’t trust me.”
“You know that’s bullshit.” Your mouth dropped open in disbelief. To your recollection, you had never before heard the woman utter even a syllable of a curse. She, of course, only offered a cheeky grin. “What? You think I can hang around you two and not pick up something?”
“Touché.” You nodded.
“Listen, Y/N,” she started and took your hand, “Daryl cares about you, more than he lets on.” She wouldn’t mention all the times he had come to her with questions. How he would mumble and blush when trying to figure something out to make you happy. How he would actively look for at least one thing to bring back for you from a run. “I think you should try to see this from his perspective.” Just like she had told him to see it from yours. “I think then you may be able to compromise, yeah?”
You nodded with a small smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll think it over. Thanks, Carol.”
“Good.” The woman stood and grabbed up the basket. “Besides, you’re both insufferable when you’re fighting.” You reached out to give her a playful shove as she walked by and then patted the hand she laid briefly on your shoulder.
She was right. You didn’t want to keep fighting with Daryl. It made you both (and apparently everyone else) miserable. You’d have to come up with something in the middle.
The sky had faded to a pale lavender with the orange hue of the setting sun peeking over the trees. It was getting late and Daryl hadn’t returned. Your fingertips were sore from drumming on the table. Just as you stood with the intent to grab a weapon and go after him, a silhouette emerged from the treeline. There was a distinct outline of a crossbow on their back. The relief was immense and had you sinking back down onto the bench with your hand clutching the front of your shirt.
Your eyes stayed trained on him as he made his way past the walkers outside and entered the gate that was promptly closed behind him. From a distance, he appeared fine albeit a little dirty. He walked slowly with his head down, but he had been out all day, so you hoped that was nothing more than fatigue. He made it a little closer than you thought he would before he raised his head and his gaze went straight to you.
“Hey.” You offered, standing slowly. He gave you a nod and you thought he may walk on by, but he stopped just shy of the table. “You okay?” Another nod, his eyes seemingly studying your boots. “Look, Daryl—”
“I was wrong.” It came out so quickly that you had to think about it for a moment before you made sense of what he said. “Earlier. Was wrong. Ain’t got no right to tell ya what to do.”
This time, it was you who nodded. “I know why though.” He looked up, blue eyes peering from behind his hair.
“Ya do?”
“Yeah. You want to keep me safe. You care about me.” You smiled, small but genuine. A strange look crossed his face but was gone a moment later. Was that disappointment?
“Right.” He had started to chew on his thumbnail.
Licking your lips nervously, you continued. “I’ll do no more than two runs a week. And only when you’re going too.” You were absolutely certain you caught a ghost of a smile.
“Fair ‘nough.” He was shifting from foot to foot now, thumb still pressed against his lips. You had been so focused on the problem at hand that you hadn’t noticed the anxiety radiating from him in waves. Something was off. This had been too easy.
“Daryl, are you sure you’re okay?”
“Mhm, just—just tired.” His eyes said as much. You placed your hand on his bicep and ushered him along toward the door.
“Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving!” Had your focus not been ahead, you would have seen the way he only smiled once he looked down at you.
“Got some formula for Lil Asskicker.” Daryl rounded the end of the aisle you were knelt in, displaying the four cans in his pack before closing it up and placing it on his shoulder.
“That’ll last her about 3 days.” You quirked, causing Daryl to snort behind you. “She’s growing like a little weed.” There wasn’t much left in the way of over the counter medications but you had scored some infants Tylenol and gas relief drops, as well as medication for the adults. “The food was pretty picked through. I got a couple of cans of fruit, though!” You placed three more bottles of tylenol in your bag and stood, your knees protesting the movement.
“Y’ready then?” Daryl turned to head to the front of the old store. Glenn and Maggie were set to meet the two of you in the parking lot.
“All set!” You confirmed, adjusting the backpack straps on your shoulders. You jogged to catch up with the archer, bumping into his side while pulling your knife from its sheath. Daryl smirked and ruffled your hair before gently shoving you away. “Pretty good haul, I think. Maybe we could stop by that gas—”
“Sshh.” The bowman had gone rigid, his hand just in front of your mouth. “Ya hear that?” It was faint at first but the closer the two of you moved towards the front of the store, the louder the thumping and moaning became.
“That sounds like an awful lot of walkers, Daryl.” You rounded the broken down checkout lanes to bring the doors into view and felt your stomach drop. The light that should have been filtering through the dusty glass doors was completely snuffed out by the multitude of bodies shuffling past. A glance at the archer found him tense and mirroring your expression. “Glenn and Maggie—” You whispered urgently.
“They’ll wait ‘em out. Ain’t their first rodeo.” He had lowered his crossbow to his side. “Ours neither. Get comfy, girl. Might be here a bit.” He hopped up to sit on one of the conveyors while you walked through one of the other lanes to look at some of the old magazines. From the corner of your eye, you saw a small piece of bright orange peeking out from under the checkout shelf.
“Oh my god!” You shrieked in an enthused whisper.
“What?” Daryl was on his feet, crossbow leveled with his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
You were already on your knees to retrieve the object of your excitement. “Reese’s cups!” You sprang up to your feet, waving the small package around triumphantly.
The archer let the crossbow fall to his side, his face hidden behind his palm. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Big word, Dixon. I’m proud.” You bumped him deliberately with your hip as you walked by, hopping up where he had just been perched. The man leaned his weapon against the shelf where the cash register was positioned and sat beside you. You didn’t ask if he wanted the second treat, just handing it over habitually. You always shared with him. He accepted it with a smirk you didn’t see since you were already taking the first bite of the stale candy. “Buttery baby Jesus.” You moaned, eyes rolling back.
Daryl barked a laugh, almost dropping the Reese’s. “M’not sure I wanna know why baby Jesus is buttery.” He was shaking his head when he caught your bewildered expression. “What?” He questioned around the first bite.
“They told me it couldn’t happen. That it was impossible.” You whispered, eyes wide. The look on his face said he was waiting for you to continue. “You… you laughed.”
His expression deadpanned. “Shtop.” He mumbled around the chocolate and peanut butter.
“I’m serious, Dixon. We were all wondering when we would stumble across the reanimated remains of your sense of humor.”
He swallowed and bumped you with his shoulder. “I hate ya.”
“I love you too.” Your lips pressed against his cheek and pulled away just as quickly. The man went rigid, eyes straight forward. You didn’t seem to notice, wandering around the front.
His blue eyes began to follow your movements, the tight feeling in his chest overpowering the butterflies fluttering madly in his stomach. His face was burning all the way to the tips of his ears. No longer hungry, he delicately wrapped the remaining Reese’s cup in its wrapper and put it in his bag to give to you later.
You had knelt down to look through a basket labeled ‘return to stock.’ “Score! Batteries!” You exclaimed, mostly to yourself, and quickly shoved the different sizes into your pack. Behind you, the archer cleared his throat.
“Think they’re gone.” He was motioning toward the door when you turned to acknowledge him.
You twisted to the other side to find nothing but dull light creeping through the glass. “Nice! You ready?”
“Uh—yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”
You both shouldered your packs and grabbed your weapons, moving almost silently through the door. Glenn and Maggie had undoubtedly hunkered down as well, so it was anyone’s guess who would arrive first at the meeting spot. Daryl followed behind you, walking backwards to ensure the area you couldn’t see stayed clear.
“I think we’re good. It’s this way. Maybe Glenn and—” You rounded the corner, voice cut off into surprised shriek as two walkers tumbled into you. The back of your head met the concrete with a sickening crack and black spots danced across your vision. There was a loud bang to your left that you couldn’t place. Your body moved almost on autopilot, fumbling for the weapon you had dropped while you held one walker back with your forearm and kicked back the other with your free leg. You could hear Daryl screaming your name above the blood rushing in your ears. “D-Daryl!” You managed around the bile creeping up your throat. What seemed like several minutes later, the weight above you vanished and your gun was thrust into your hands.
“C’mon, girl! Up we go!”
Daryl’s hands were on you, pulling you up haphazardly by your arm. His voice sounded muffled but strained, like he was shouting under water. The world tilted and spun, and you felt an arm tighten around your back that you hadn’t realized was even there. You blinked hard, willing your surroundings to come into focus, but Daryl’s jarring movements were aggravating the already present nausea. Before you could warn him, you listed to your right and retched, the bile burning the back of your throat.
“Shit!”
His voice was a little clearer now, but you must have thrown him off balance. You tumbled down, only barely catching yourself on your palms before you would have smashed face first into the puddle of sick on the asphalt. Daryl crashed into your back a second later but quickly averted his weight so he landed beside you. A string of curses left his mouth as he pushed himself up, your eyes trying to follow him but stopping short on the smear of crimson where he had fallen.
“Daryl, are—are you bleeding?” Am I bleeding? You were being hauled to your feet again, the motion almost too much. Your vision grayed at the edges and you felt a strange tingling in your limbs. Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out.
“Over here! Hurry!”
Glenn. You had never been so relieved to hear his voice. It was short lived as you felt yourself fading. Your body was shifted again and now the world was upside down, a strong grip pressing into your ribs and the side of your knees. The last thing you saw was the herd of walkers closing in before it all went dark.
You awoke with a start, sitting up halfway before the pounding in your head made its presence known and you fell back with a grunt.
“Easy.”
Daryl. Thank god. You risked opening your eyes, finding him to be looking down at you from straight above. Scenery was flying by just beside his head. You were in the car, your head pillowed on Daryl’s lap. “Glenn? Maggie?” You asked quietly. You didn’t think you were physically capable of talking any louder.
“We’re here, Y/N.” Maggie’s voice came from the front seat. You felt her gentle touch in your arm and you immediately relaxed. You had all made it.
“What happened?” You asked, trying to keep your eyes focused on the archer when they wanted nothing more than to close and let you be dragged back into oblivion.
“Other half’a the herd came down on us. Ya cracked your melon when two’a ‘em took ya down.”
Worry and fatigue laced his voice but as you studied him, you could see the clear indicators of pain. Daryl always hid it well but you knew him better than anyone.
“You hurt?”
He shifted in the seat slightly and winced. “Ya must’a squeezed the trigger when ya went down. Shot me.”
Your eyes blew wide and you were instantly moving, trying to sit up. Your body seemed to disagree with that plan of action. “Where are you hit? How bad is it? Damn it!”
“Whoa! Hold up!” He pulled you back down, calloused finger smoothing the hair away from your face. “M’alright. Got the back’a my leg. Hershel’ll take care’a it.” You stared at him with wide, exhausted eyes. Were you actually lying on his wounded leg?
“I shot you?” You could feel the tears collecting on your lashes, guilt eating away at your insides, colliding with the nausea so hard that it made your vision swim. “I’m so sorry.” Your fingertips found his jaw, barely brushing the prickly hair there before your arm became too heavy to hold up.
“Ya didn’t do it on purpose, Y/N.”
“I would…never…” You suddenly felt exhaustion pulling you under, Daryl’s pleas for you to stay awake fading into white noise as blackness swallowed you up once again.
It had been three days since the run. Two had seen you lying in bed with Hershel doing periodic checks to ensure that the concussion wasn’t something more serious. Daryl had been there too. He would only leave when threatened by Carol, forced to go rest himself. He never stayed gone long. Rick had finally dragged an extra mattress in and placed it in the corner. The archer finally allowed himself to fall asleep and that’s how you found him when you had awoken near the end of day two. Hershel arrived to check your vitals and found you propped up on your elbows, watching Daryl sleep.
“How long has he been there?” You asked quietly. The old man smiled and released your wrist, satisfied with your pulse.
“It’d be easier to tell you when he wasn’t in here.” He mused while shaking two pills from a bottle. The sound didn’t disturb the bowman in the slightest, a testament to his exhaustion. “Take these.”
You trusted the old veterinarian and took the offered medication, just assuming it was for pain. Your eyes never left Daryl. “His leg— did it—will he—”
Hershel patted your own leg and waited for you to finally look at him. He shone a small light in your eyes and smiled again. “He’ll be fine. And so will you. You both just need to rest.”
You nodded and laid your head back on the pillow, turning on your side so you could keep Daryl in your sights. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep. You didn’t hear Hershel leave.
Now, you were perched in the tower. It was the only thing Rick would allow you to do after Hershel released you. The sun had long ago set and the prison was dark and silent, save for the moans of the walkers shuffling around outside the fences. You had learned to tune them out when you were out there, allowing yourself to enjoy the fresh air and the quiet peace the night offered.
“Hey.”
You jerked around with a start, vision swimming only slightly as Daryl came into focus just beside the door leading to the ladder. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and chewed on the opposite thumbnail.
“Hi.” You smiled at him but it faded as he limped toward where you sat, hissing as he took a seat next to you. “Still hurts?”
“I’ll live.” He was looking out over the field and into the trees for a moment before turning to you. You avoided his gaze, and you knew he knew. “Ya alright?” You looked back at him and he tapped his finger against his forehead.
“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I’m feeling much better.” A smile graced your lips once again, not quite reaching your eyes. Daryl nodded, his thumb to his mouth again. “You were right, you know.” His brow creased in confusion but you looked away, finding the treeline before continuing. “I shouldn’t be going out there anymore.”
The archer shook his head and moved his hand back to his lap. “Nah, Y/N. What happened was—”
“My fault.” You nodded resolutely, ignoring the twinge of discomfort it caused. “I wasn’t careful. I was distracted. I shot you.”
“That was a accident.”
“That doesn’t matter, Daryl!” Your voice escalated. The tears stinging your eyes threatened to fall. The walkers beyond the fence zeroed in on the noise and began to gather. The bowman glanced over, assessing the situation. When the fence held the extra weight, he looked back to you, your cheeks now wet before you angrily wiped at them with the back of your hand. “I’m a liability out there. You need someone better to—”
“Hey,” he cut you off, with a hand on your knee, “ya got my back out there. You do.” Daryl ducked down his head, searching for your gaze. “Ya got yer shit together. Y’know what yer doin’ out there. There ain’t no one I trust more. Ya hear me?”
Confusion twisted your expression. You turned to face him, careful that your legs didn’t bump his. “Then why?” You asked with a gentle shake of your head. “Why did you fight me so hard about going out?” You watched several emotions skitter across the archer’s face, but he settled on one: guilt. He scowled deeply, bottom lip caught between his teeth with his gaze anywhere but on you. “Daryl?”
“I, uh—” You saw a spot of blood on his lip before his tongue quickly erased it. “I just—need to know you’re safe.”
He wasn’t making much sense. “If you know I can take care of myself, why are you worried?”
His face began to redden, the color spreading down his neck and up to the tips of his ears. “Damnit, y’know I ain’t no good with words, kid!”
“Obviously. Because I’m not a kid.” You chuckled, your fingertips brushing his cheek before you used your palm to coax his head to turn. He kept his eyes stubbornly downcast, his hand immediately lifting his thumb towards his mouth. You intercepted and gently pushed his hand to his lap, keeping your own over it. “Just say what you mean.”
Daryl swallowed hard, his jaw clenching while he slumped in the chair. You knew where this was headed. He was trying to process something deep; something important. When faced head on with emotions, there was only one thing Daryl could count on: his anger. When his fingers folded into a fist below your hand, you didn’t let him pull away.
“We don’t need to talk about this. Let’s just table it for later, alright?” You smiled gently and moved to turn yourself forward, away from him.
This time, it was him that stopped you from pulling away. “Nah.” When you turned your face back to reassure him things were okay, he met you there. His lips pressed against yours firmly, almost aggressively. This definitely wasn’t something he had planned. Soon enough, the pressure minimized and you were able to react. Your brain was currently short-circuiting but you managed to move your mouth against his, finding a rhythm in the hungry dance.
Of all the things Daryl could “say” to you, this was definitely not on your bingo card for the year. His hands gently held the sides of your neck, calloused fingers sliding up your skin to tangle in your hair. Your own hands found purchase in the front of his vest, using it to keep him close to you; afraid that he would change his mind now that you had accepted his confession. And that’s what this was.
A confession.
Daryl was a man of action, not words. He had been for as long as you had been a part of his life. So this? You could decipher this pretty easily. He cared about you more than a friend. He was willing to be vulnerable with you. He trusted you. He worried about you. He wanted you close by and safe. He loved you. Was he in love with you? That was the only question left. You definitely didn’t mind waiting for the answer as long as he could keep kissing you like this.
You tried to pull back to breathe, but he held fast, tongue licking into your mouth the moment it opened to protest. Drawing a deep breath through your nose, you couldn’t help but let out a content sigh and allow yourself to taste him as well. Tobacco smoke and a hint of spice that you found delicable, craving more as you began to take charge. Releasing his vest, you opened your palms and pressed him against the back of the chair. Your lips never left his, even as the angle changed for you to be standing over him. He had released your hair and settled his palms on your hips as you lowered to straddle his lap.
You had begun to wonder just how far this would go when your full weight settled onto him, and he yelped (in a very manly way, if anyone asked) against your mouth. You pulled back, tripping over his boot and crashing toward the floor. Daryl tried to stop your descent, managing to catch your bicep which led to your hand gripping the front of his vest while your leg was still trapped behind his. You successfully pulled him off the chair, the pair of you meeting the concrete one right after the other.
You laid there for a moment, stunned and assessing the situation. When your eyes met Daryl’s wide blue gaze, you couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up from somewhere deep inside. The entire prison could probably hear you but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Especially when you heard the brief chuckle from beside you.
“Great first kiss, Dixon.” You let your head gingerly fall back, the stitched wound beneath your hair still tender. “Top notch.”
“Shut up.” There was no heat behind the words. In fact, he sounded rather relaxed. “First, huh?”
You grinned at the stars, wondering how red his face would be if you chose to look at him at that moment. “Of many.”
He hummed in reply. You started to rethink your words, worried that you were putting too much pressure on him, but then you felt his finger brush over the back of your hand. He didn’t do more than just press his hand against yours but allowed you to wrap your index finger around his. For several moments, the two of you laid there, silent but comfortable in it.
“I’m still on watch.” You finally said, already missing his touch when he moved his hand away. “I guess I should be, you know, watching.”
“Mhmm.” He replied. You turned your head to watch him struggle to his feet, hurrying to get up yourself to steady him. Once he found his balance, you let go and took a deep breath. You didn’t want this moment to end.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“‘Course.” He gave you a look that meant you should have known the answer already.
“Night, Daryl.” You plopped back down onto your chair and looked out through your binoculars while you waited to hear the door close. When it didn’t, you turned to find him still standing a few feet away.
“You, uh—if ya want some company, I could—y’know, stay.” He was blushing again, rubbing the back of his neck like he had when he’d first arrived earlier. You’d never tell him how adorable he looked. He’d likely murder you in your sleep. So, you smiled and nodded before patting the other chair.
“Yeah, I’d like it if you stayed.” As he limped back over, you felt a warmth rise and settle in your chest, one you hadn’t felt since before the world ended. Actually, this was new. This was different. This was the beginning of something. Something beautiful born out of darkness and death. Something you’d fight like hell to hold onto.
And you’d never have to fight alone.
#murda writes#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x you#the walking dead#Spotify
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For the teacher!Steve trying not to curse I think it’s harder when he becomes a middle school teacher. He definitely will slip into the second grade teacher voice when he is in his civilian state (aka at metal concerts) when he is a second grade teacher, but like as a ninth grade English teacher it becomes much easier to slip back and forth when you’re faced with a bunch of pre/baby teens. It is much harder to not slip up and just go “what the fuck man” when you’re faced with a fourteen year old getting his phone out to play some stupid iPhone game thirty seconds after you told him to put it away, bc there’s something about little kids that makes it easier to not curse around them. So I think the fact that the shenanigans Eddie gets up to are way to similar to the thirteen year olds’ shenanigans makes it super hard to remember which ones he can curse at freely.
Oh man, I love this. And also, absolutely yes to all of it.
Steve really thought that he had it in the bag when he decided to started teaching middle school because he already has experience dealing with the worst kind of middle schoolers. At least none of his students will be adopting monsters as pets or shoving his unconscious body into a car, but no. He was not prepared for pre-teens in the age of the internet.
He was also not prepared for how much he wants to swear at these kids.
He could swear at Dustin. And he did! Often!
When Steve starts teaching middle school, he started to get more creative with his swearing substitutes (i.e. he uses the substitutes that I use at work). So, when one of his students switches out his dry erase marker with a permanent marker and he realizes it halfway through writing an equation on the board, he doesn’t say ‘are you fucking kidding me’ like he wants to. He says instead, “Are you shark-finning me?”
The first time he uses this exact phrase backstage at a CC show, it’s when he accidentally spills coffee on himself. Jeff turns around to look at him so fast that he walks into a wall.
Steve’s been know to drop a ‘frickity-frack’ or a ‘bull shark’ once or twice, and his students think it’s hilarious but it nearly kills Corroded Coffin every time. Eddie once snapped at him for interrupting him in the studio and instead of telling him that he was acting like an asshole, Steve said that he was ‘being a bunch of words’ and ‘not very nice ones at that.’
It honestly was more hurtful than being called an asshole.
Sometimes Steve will tell his students that they’re acting like a real ‘Dustin Henderson’ and they don’t know what exactly that means, but they don’t like it.
The opposite happens too, Steve has accidentally swore in front of his students and they freaking love it. It’s the funniest thing in the world to them.
Once a kid brought a baby squirrel into his classroom (a true thing that happened in my nineth grade Spanish class) and Steve said without thought, “Jeremy, what the fuck.”
#I love all the insight I’m getting from real teachers#steve harrington#eddie munson#eddie munson tiktok saga
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Monster outside the walls
Daryl Dixon x reader
A warning about a monster outside of the Alexandrian walls takes a weird turn as new residents turn out to be trouble.
There was a monster lurking behind the walls.
It was one of the first things that your new community made clear. The man with the prosthetic hand made sure you knew all the details.
Although it never attacked unprovoked, it was extremely territorial and felt no remorse when it came to harming trespassers.
So without thinking twice you found yourself in the woods foraging the next day, telling the guard you knew your way around and slipping out the gate with a sturdy bag and lunch.
You made your way from plant to plant, taking whatever you identified as edible or medicinal with the help of your notebook. A squeaking noise kept distracting you and had you worry about walkers coming towards it, so you set out to find the source.
A trapped squirrel tugging at the line it got caught in, desperately trying to free itself.
While you preffered to set it free, you couldn't help but think bringing back a squirrel would gain you some points back at your new home.
It pained you to kill it, but you had to in order to keep foraging. Wrapping it up in a cloth you put in on the bag and went on with your task, not long after coming across a large plant filled with berries.
"Shit, gotta be my lucky day." With a smile you went up to it, plucking whole vines full of clustered berries. You were so fpcused on picking out the best ones you hadn't noticed something moving closer and jumped ten feet in the air when you were touched.
"Enough."
You froze. Too scared to turn around when a mangled voice spoke from directly bwhind you, unable to see anything from the corners of your eyes.
You slowly raised your hands in defeat. "I.. I'll give you my bag. I didn't know.. I'm sorry." You went to reach to take off your bag, but stopped and jerked back into position when a loud snap of teeth sounded right next to your ear, a hot breath flowing past your cheek.
"Turn."
Without changing your posture you tiptoed around to come face to face with a maw of sharp teeth under a curled up lip.
You still had some berries in your hand, ever so slowly lowering it with your palm up to show it was just berries and offer some. It seemed to take the edge off.
After a few sniffs you watched as its tongue darted out to lap up some of the berries in your hand, hearing a sizzle and a loud yelp as it pulled back and pawed at its tongue.
In a panic you dropped your bag, following it to the ground and digging for your water canteen and unscrewing it, offering it to the animal.
A quick paw reached out but stopped at the sight of you still holding it. With a paw shake and a growl it looked like it tried to speak, but being too hurt to do so. What happened?
You set the canteen down on the ground and sat back to watch the large paw grab at it and pour the contents over what looked like a burn wound.
"What happened?" You watched the animal gulp down the whole canteen, its ears perking up as it realized it was all gone and carefully placed it back in front of you.
"S'rry."
You watched the creature in front of you. It didn't look like how the residents had described it at all. Yes, there were shining blue eyes and an angry red scar, but no sharp death bringer claws or muddy, spiky fur. The look in its eyes also didn't hold anger, instead it held curiosity.
"You're the monster of these woods? The one everyone talks about?"
A slow nod and confirming hum was all you got, seeing its tongue still hurt.
"I'm sorry for hurting you. I didn't mean to, even though I don't really know what happened.." you had taken the canteen and were screwing the cap back on while the creature sat up across from you. A large clawed finger pointed to your hand, carefully tapping your finger, just below the ring you wore. "Thilver."
He-- Yeah, he was still smacking his tongue, looking annoyed by the burn. "Hurth me."
"Oh, wait." You took the ring between your fingertips and took it off, slipping it into your pocket. "There, all good now." You held up your hands and showed him, no more rings.
"Why do tha'?" The question left you feeling strange. He said himself it hurt him, so why wouldn't you take it off?
"So I won't accidentally hurt you again?" It came out as a question but it really wasn't. "You're not like they say. I'm still here, and you talk!" That last bit came out maybe a little too excited, as you got a huff in return. "I'm sorry."
"S'fine. Yer new. Friendly. Not ruined." His voice was gruff and deep, it fit the way he looked.
You followed his movements as he sniffed and moved closer to your bag. Reaching to open it and stick his whole head in it, causing you to laugh."Hey! Come on I spent all day gathering that!" You pulled the bag off his head and watched as he finished chowing down the squirrel you took.
"Tha' was mine." He licked his lips, maw wide open and you could only stare in awe as he just seemed to have swallowed the thing whole.
"Okay. Yeah, fine you have that." With a quick shrug you moved on from the squirrel and checked the contents of your bag before closing it. You had enough to call it a successful day and felt like it was time to head back. You made sure to apologize again before running off.
He watched from his spot, sensing how interested you were in his being and stalking after you to make sure you got home safe. Only when you were past the gates and it was fully closed he retreated back to his home.
You wanted to go back.
You were going back. Giving some kind of excuse of needing more of those berries to make jam and desserts seemed to have worked and you were back out again.
Tracing your steps wasn't even needed, being almost pounced on by a massive canine beast that clearly wasn't thinking and had you shriek as he appeared out of nowhere.
Your sounds were cut off quickly as a large padded hand covered your mouth and you were pressed against a furred chest.
Once you realized what position you were in and it suddenly clicked what your companion was you felt the heat rise to your cheeks. “Holy shit werewolf.”you mumbled against his palm, hands finding his and pulling it away and give you a chance to turn around to face him.
Well, his chest. Seeing him stand up at full height made you feel so small and weak, but it also made you feel safe.
The one thing the people around you feared more than walkers or other humans was friendly with you, and pulled you out of sight from the guards that could have shot upon hearing your scream.
“Yer righ’. Bu’ an idiot.” You were too busy staring at his build, his huge paws and the fur you wanted to so desperately brush the tangles out of.
Oh man, your mind was racing with questions and comments and words that should never ever leave your mouth if you wanted to keep the title of friendly lady.
“What does your human self look like?” The words were out of your mouth the second you thought them, earning you a deep, rumbling chuckle. With a grin he moved to turn, crouch back down and padded off in the direction where you met him the day before. He walked past the plant with the berries and hopped into a large ditch some moments later.
“Real nice of you to take a path I can take too, jackass.” You stood pouting with your arms crossed. You were given an eye roll and a huff before you watched him move closer to the slope and hold out his arms. “No claws, jump.”
You calculated the risks and took a few steadying breaths before facing your fear and jumping, almost believing you failed until you collided with strong muscle.
Again you felt the heat rise in your cheeks and quickly moved off him and busied yourself with looking around. “C’mon, ‘ere.” By the time you turned around he had started moving already and you followed suit. After a few turns you approached a large, old tree that must have been almost a century old. Its roots were so strong it kept the tree upright over the end of the ditch you walked through. Underneath the tree was a hollow area, roots separated to form the walls and the tree itself was the centre of the roof.
“Wait, you live here?” There was a pile of mismatched fabrics on the ground all the way in the back, and what looked like a suitcase covered in dust and sand. The other signs of life were some picked clean bones and tufts of feathers and furs scattered around.
You followed his movements as he padded through the dirt and took a blanket , shook it out and wrapped it around his middle before taking deep breaths and changing.
He changed from giant wolf beast to a man, a man with just as bright blue eyes and long messy hair. The grey furred chin was the same as before, and now you saw scars and tattoos that were hidden beneath fur earlier.
Your jaw hung open in awe, staring at the man in front of you who cleared his throat before speaking. "Yer momma never teach ya starin's rude?"
"Not staring. Appreciating." The soft chest you ran into was practically inviting you to come have a squeeze.
"Yer droolin'." You caught his half smile and wiped at your mouth in response, finding it dry as can be.
"Not from those lips, sunshine." With his arms crossed over his chest he peeked downward for a second before meeting your eyes again. "Yer hopeless. Turn 'round I'll get sum clothes."
You did as told and turned away, listening to his rummaging and only turning back after you were given the okay.
After some jokes about you getting your hormones in check and exchanging names the topic went back to more serious matters.
"Humans ne'er like wha' they don't get. Always shootin' first 'stead of askin' questions. S'why 'm out 'ere. 'N not in there." He nodded towards the large walls surrounding Alexandria. "Had ta change ta keep walkers away. Sum folk didn' like the idea of sharin' a home with a monster.."
You hated what he told you. Such a selfless gesture being welcomes by banishing him for being different? How dare they?
You contemplated staying with him out here, giving him some company but you'd need more clothes and supplies to survive. You had to go back home for that first.
With a glance around the place you realized you'd already spent hours longer out here than planned and shot up in a panic. "Shit! I really gotta go back, I'm sorry." You scurried around grabbing your bag and turned to leave, getting something tossed at the back of your head on your way out.
"Keep tha', s'cold out." He got up and rummaged around while you draped that same blanket he had on earlier around your shoulders. It smelled like him and it warmed you perfectly.
"Bye, Daryl. See you later." With a wave you walked off, and Daryl watched until you were out of view.
He stripped and turned back into his beast shape and trotted after you for a bit before turning towards the smell of wild animal.
You were almost at the gate when rustling leaves caught your attention and turned to look, seeing bright blue eyes staring and inviting you back. "Come on, I'm late already.." but he didn't try to keep you there at all. He held a young deer between his teeth and dropped it at your feet. "S'rry. 'Scuse fer bein' away long." He nudged the deer closer until you picked it up and took it with you, thanking him once again.
Daryl kept his eyes on you from a safe distance until you were gone within the walls.
But the welcome gift of deer wasn't as well accepted as you had hoped it would be, the fabric around your shoulders being grabbed with force as the man's face got closer. "You stole from the beast? You're gonna get us all killed! That what you want, to lose another home?" His yelling caught the attention of others, gathering around and sending you into a panic and unwrapping the fabric from your body before running home.
Back home you were upstairs in your bedroom with the door closed when knocking sounded. Carol announced herself and peeked in, a pout on her face on seeing you curled up on the bed. "I came to bring this back." She stepped in with your blanket folded neatly over her arm. "Bold move, brining back Daryl's blanket and one of his kills." The smile on her face of amusement thanks to your shock at hearing Daryl’s name.
“He’s my best friend. We met years ago and traveled together until we got here.” She had made her way over to sit beside you on the bed and continued her tale. “Me and some others tried to fight for him to stay, but it wasn’t enough. He’s too stubborn to try and come back.” She talked about their old adventures, from a camp in Atlanta to a farm where he brought her a flower when Carol lost her daughter, and then the prison and its difficulties all the way up to their arrival in Alexandria. It was deep in the night when she left, having told all of her stories and having listened to what you shared of meeting Daryl twice now.
You felt like Carol would do anything to get her friend back and it made you feel less crazy for hoping he’d be coming home with you one day.
It was a few days after you and Carol shared about your friendship with the monster outside the walls and new people had come into the community. Seeing Carol was assigned to show them around and be their person to go to in need, and you were hanging out with her a lot because of your newfound friendship you were around the new people a lot as well.
You didn’t trust them. Everyone else seemed to like them but you and Carol had a bad feeling about them. But who would believe the monster’s best friends? You were almost labeled the crazy lady, to a point of Carol being asked why she let you hang out with her.
Meanwhile you and Carol had made plans to go see Daryl again, and left early in the day to go foraging and meet him near his home.
“Hey, Pookie.”
You saw Daryl's ears perk up at the nickname, immediately turning around to greet Carol and be surprised to see you too.
"Pookie? The big bad wolf in the woods is called Pookie?" You could barely hold back your laugh, smiling widely behind your hands as Daryl walked up and nudged you with a grumble. "Cute, Carol."
He took a whiff of you two, and then some more and stepped back with an angry growl. "Ya smell of wolf." His lips curled up in anger as you two went to give each other a shocked look. "Those new guys?"
"I bet. Let's go." Without another word you turned to rush back home, Daryl hot on your trail all the way to as close to the gate as he could get.
To your luck there were friendly guards on duty that disn't question your lack of game or other resources.
You were barely at Carol's place when further in the back of the community you heard people scream, making a quick run through her home for silver weapons and rushed to the scene where four large beasts were tearing through the pantry. You saw guns raised, but no one dared to take a shot at the giant monsters that were currently eating their fill, chowing down months worth of rations in moments until a shot sounded from next to you and one wolf went down in an instant. It writhed on the ground, letting out horrifying sounds before going limp against the concrete.
Carol held a handgun, intricately carved and clearly not from the community's supply.
"Gift from Daryl. For emergencies."
The three remaining beasts rose from their spots, readying for attack as the community members ran for their lives and you readied your own weapons when an idea arose.
"DARYL!!" You screamed in your best panicked voice, praying he heard you and would come running.
As you hid behind a wall, Carol added her own yells to summon your friend.
Like clockwork a loud howl came from behind you that pulled the others' attention away from the residents.
Daryl was quick to shield you and Carol, ignoring the screams of protest frkm onlookers who now hid and stared between the two sides of the fight.
Carol held one of the three in her sight, gun at the ready while your eyes followed another, large silver blade in hand.
Daryl kept his gaze on the largest of three enemies in front of him, circling in a way he stayed in front of his two humans when one of them took a leap forward, jumping up with claws extended. It managed to barely pass Daryl who had his attention on the leader and pounced right onto you, who in a panic cowered down behind the blade in your hands. The last thing you saw was Carol's eyes widening in fear.
It took a second before you realized the darkness wasn't the end, but thick fur covering your vision. Loud ringing had you disoriented and warmth ran all over your arms and torso.
You tried to move but a sharp pain in your ahoulder stopped you from trying, letting out a pained scream.
Another gunshot sounded, muffled by the thing on top of you that second later gor pulled away, revealing a dead wolf. Your blade stuck awkwardly through his torso and Carol's knife at the base if his skull.
Carol helped you out from underneath the beast and sat you down off to the side, earning a worried look from Daryl who in his moment of distraction got a full jaw to the side. You saw him being tackled to the ground by the last living beast, his pained howl tearing through the community.
You shot up, trying to rush in to help but the grip Carol had on you prevented it.
"You're not going anywhere. You need your arm fixed." She made quick work of wrapping the wound up to take you to the infirmary but you refused to leave Daryl alone, not trusting the other residents to not shoot him as soon as the other one was dead. "Fine." Carol gave you her kindest smile before rushing off to find someone to patch up your arm, leaving her gun with you. "Don't waste bullets. Emergencies only."
On the other end of the street, Daryl had just been thrown down, his side bleeding from a huge bite wound. He staggered, growling loudly qnd trying to keep up the tough act against the now limping other wolf. It was clear they were on equal grounds, and no bystander had yet dared to back up the one who was actively protecting them.
Daryl was breathing heavily, counting on his ability to dodge rather than attacking in hope to tire out his oponent, but with how much they ate just now that could take a while. He needed a better plan, running around the place and hiding behind crates and walls wasn't doing it. He hated never having lived in the place long enough to learn the ins and outs, needing to rely on quick thinking. It took more effort than hoped, and Daryl could feel the wound on his side protesting bht he made it to the roof of the next door's porch. He listened for the other, following where he started to climb on and against all better judgement pounced at him, taking him off the building and back down on the ground. The angle of the jump made the beast's back land right on the curb, letting out a pained scream as Daryl took the opportunity to bite down on his throat, snapping his jaws shut and breaking the skin before shaking his head and tearing open the monster's neck.
Spitting out the furred piece of flesh, Daryl swayed as he stepped away from the body and dropped only a few steps in.
Now you and Carol did appear at his side in seconds, looking at the large wound on his side that wasn't yet healing.
"Can you hand me the alcohol?" Carol's voice pulled your from spiraling into the worrying thoughts racing your mind and moved to grab the medkit for her while she moved clumps of fur out of the wounds. Daryl was breathing heavy, gaining looks from men who passed by on their way to clean up the dead bodies.
While Catol worked to clean his wounds you were sat with his head in your lap, petting his fur and talking to him about everything you could think of per Carol's instructions. "You know, you're really soft. So warm, it'd be amazing to have you over during winter." You were running out of topics by the time the cleanup was scrubbing floors and repairing the damage done to the pantry. Everyone still avoided Daryl who you hadn't been able to move yet. He was getting worried looks from people now, instead of disgust.
A young girl carefully walked up to you, hands behind her back as she looked at you three with big, sad eyes. "Can your doggy have this?" She moved her hands and held out a portion of meat. "He looks sad. When I'm sad mommy gives me a snack. Can I give him a snack?"
You gave the girl a sweet smile and allowed her to give Daryl some meat and watched as she carefully held out her hand close to his face. With a slight lift of his head Daryl lapped at the meat before ever so carefully taking it out of the girl's hand, making her giggle and run off again.
"She was cute." Carol commented on the scene, satisfied with Daryl eating something and seeing his wounds improve ever so slowly.
Women came by with a large bowl of water, asking if it was okay to leave it there for him and wishing him a speedy recovery.
More words of thanks came your way, along with the expected warry glances from a distance.
What you didn't expect was the army of children running up to you, with the girl from eadlier at the front.
Like a fierce commander to be she made the rowdy kids slow down when they got closer, and you listened to her speech about being careful around the big doggy, who was sad and hurt.
"Hey kiddo, brought some friends?" Carol gave them the okay to come closer, seeing Daryl had moved to be able to drink some water and splash your trousers while doing so.
One by one the kids came to offer Daryl treats, probably stolen from their parents' fridges. But none of that mattered right now, not with the kids all sitting around your friend and be interested instead of scared. It made a lot of parents stop and stare in fear, first trying to call their children back but seeing the large beast ment no harm. They watched as the kids ran their hands through soft looking fur and playing with large paws, poking at the pads and being in awe of the sheer difference in size from their own hands.
It was an adorable sight to see, you were happy and smiling with Daryl's upper body in your lap and Carol was content with the wounds having closed.
"You're heavy, please move before you break my legs.." you whines and patted his good side to make him move.
With careful movement and help from you and Carol he did his best to get up on his feet, plopping his ass down on the sidewalk and yawning.
His yawn was quickly drowned out by sounds of awe from the children who watched the large teeth in his mouth. "Woah I bet you can chew rocks!" One little boy called, making you all laugh.
"Nah, no rocks." Suddenly everyone stopped dead in their tracks on hearing him speak.
The quiet lasted all but seconds before the kids all swarmed him and started trowing questions his way.
The whole thing kept up until parents came to find their children and take them home, some scared to come closer but most being okay enough to retrieve their kid.
By the time they were all gone you were drained and ready to sleep.
You all got up to head home, thanking the ones who stuck around for the support and noticed Daryl turn towards the gate on all fours. "Hey, home's this way." You pointed towards your house, but got a negative answer. Carol announced her departure amd left you to deal with the stubborn wolf. "Not sleepin'ere."
Gou huffed and followed him, stopping in front of his face. "No one's chased you out. The kids love you and the moms even brought you water, you can stay here you know.."
He still tried to walk past you, and you had to move quickly to catch his fur in your good hand. "Come on, Daryl." Your hand held his chin and moved his head to face you while you moved closer, pressing your nose against his. When he didn't move you tilted your head a bit further and pressed your lips to the front of his snout. "Please?"
Daryl's ears were pointed up and his tail giving away his excitement as it wagged against his will.
He shook his head from your hand and looked away, grumbling something along the lines of agreening with you.
With a content smile you turned to head home with Daryl at your side, finding Carol wave you over from her porch.
Settled in her livingroom she had given you two stacks of clothes and wished you two good night before disappearing again. "I bet those still fit." She gave Daryl a wink and gestured at the stack of clothes he immediately recognised. It was the stash he had kept at her place for emergencies.
Faded black sweats that has more patched bits than original fabric hung low on his hips when he allowed you to turn back around again. You struggled getting your own ahirt off with the injury on your arm and Daryl was quick to come help you. The heat that came off him was a welcome feeling that sadly only lasted while he helped you change clothes before he backed up again.
"Hey," he spoke quietly from the kitchen as he came back into view with two new glasses of water and set them down on the table. "Yer droolin' again."
Heat rose to your cheeks and you huffed, moving to hide underneath thr blanket Carol had given you.
You mostly expected Daryl to head downstairs, knowing that's where his room was, but instead you felt the couch dip.
You kept your eyes shut so they wouldn't betray you as he was moving behind you, scooting you over with his body and carefully wrapping his arm around you so you wouldn't fall.
He never put on more clothes than just those pants amd you had to try your best to rid your mind of the thoughts it was having.
Daryl sensed it too, the effect you were having on each other.
"T'morrow we'll clean up yer hoise ' move mah stuff, yeah? Now sleep."
#sometimes I write#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl x reader#twd x reader#twd daryl#twd#the walking dead#twd au#werewolves#werewolf
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📰 | epilogue: capulet.
info: Carl Grimes x Saviour! Reader, 6 year timeskip, cute Judith moments, S10 Negan (aka Negan redemption arc), winter vibes because I wish it snowed where I live.
summary: Six years later, Carl and Reader consider what the future holds.
holy shit guys…it’s over! it’s done! writing this was so weird but also i’m very happy with the ending, and also getting to expand on Carl’s character beyond his death in canon was amazingly freeing.
i’ve got some requests to catch up on, but feel free to ask for stuff in the Capulet-canon! i’ll definitely go back to this and do little spinoff oneshots because they r very cute.
i hope you enjoy this as much as i did!
-> masterlist <-
Snow crunches under your feet as you treck back to Alexandria’s walls. A thin layer has dusted itself over your hair and shoulders, falling from the fabric of your jacket with each step. Slung over your back is a bundle of game: mostly rabbits, some squirrels, all tied up at the feet.
They’d designated you to checking the traps, a fairly mundane job that was mostly bearable, sans when the weather was this harsh. Having a small amount of freedom was nice at times, where you could be alone with the woods, though you knew someone was trailing nearby, shadowing your every move.
It didn’t hurt that much, knowing they didn’t trust you. You understood. But it sucked that it was these random assholes who hadn’t even been there during the war. Since when did they get a say?
Regardless, you felt relief as you arrived back home, if you could even call it that. The gates opened with a creak, allowing you inside, a familiar scene yet twisted in so many ways.
It had been six years since the war ended.
Six years of living in Alexandria, carefully under everybody’s watch. Of being torn down and scrutinised for mistakes you’d made as a teenager. Not that you’d call them mistakes, maybe that was your biggest flaw, being too prideful.
Someone comes to collect the bounty, to which you hand over the bundle, not before untying one of the rabbits you’d personally shot. That one would make your dinner tonight, besides, you’d been promising Judith a lucky rabbits foot.
The man doesn’t speak to you, though you aren’t offended. You’ve never been a big fan of small talk. In your opinion, there are very few you have the patience to converse with, and as long as they were still interested, then nobody else mattered.
Speaking of people important to you.
In the distance, you could spot Negan plowing snow along the main road that ran through Alexandria. You internally rolled your eyes, knowing that they’d been giving him stupider and stupider jobs recently.
There’s another figure, a young boy, who’s been tasked with watching him. He sits on a porch, a few feet away, kicking at the frosty ground.
“Hey, you wanna take a break?” You ask him, standing in front of the young male. The rabbit is still slung from your shoulder, along with the bow on your back.
He looks a little confused with the suggestion, and maybe offput that you’re talking to him. “No, I’m.. alright, thank you.” He attempts to brush you off, though clearly remains wary, almost unsettled by your presence.
You roll your eyes this time, not willing to continue this pointless back and forth. “Fuck off, okay? Just for a few minuets. Go waste your time somewhere else.” You demand.
Only a second of glaring down at the boy and he’s scurried off, likely to tell someone of your hostility. That’s one benefit, at least, that not many are willing to engage in a physical altercation with you, as they’d all heard stories of the war.
As you turn around, you catch Negan already watching you. A smile spreads onto your face, despite his rugged appearance, and the snow all over your jacket.
“You’re gonna be in deep shit for that one, you know?” He tells you, as if it isn’t obvious, though his tone indicates that he is pleased to see you again.
Lately, you’d been finding Negan more often around Alexandria, usually gardening or doing some other boring maintenance task. Depending on who was around, you were even sometimes allowed to visit him in his cell.
It hadn’t been like that for a long time, though. For the first four years after the war, you weren’t allowed any sort of contact. It was hard, and you’d struggled with bouts of depression on particularly difficult days, but things were starting to look up again.
“I don’t really care.” You shrug, smile turning into a downright grin as you approach. “Can’t make me do anything worse than hunting in dead-winter.”
As you crossed the path, Negan’s smile grew tender. He extended his arm to you, palm cupping the back of your neck and thumb moving the snowy hair from your face.
Though he had many regrets, letting you get caught up in everything was the biggest. In many ways he felt like he’d failed his job, which was to foster and protect a young girl. Yet, time and time again, you were put in harms way.
“What about plowing snow?” Negan sarcastically suggests, leaning on the handle of his shovel. The notion made you frown, straightening out the blue shirt he wore.
“No jacket?” You question, brows furrowed while you looked up at him.
The concern on your face made Negan smile, having watched you grow from a reckless teenager to a conscious young woman. “Nah. I have thick skin, doll.”
Regardless, you roll your eyes, trying to swallow your concern as you look to the snowy path. “I’m gonna ask someone about getting you warmer clothes.”
“I should be the one that’s worried,” Negan points out, “Hunting in this weather? It’s like they’re tryna’ kill you.”
He says it with a slightly bitter tone, genuinely irritated despite the fact that you’ve lived quite comfortably in Alexandria over the years. More so than him, certainly. Yet, the concern makes you smile, regardless.
“Someone’s gotta do it,” You justify with a shrug, “Trust me, I tried to dodge. Been feeling kinda shitty recently.”
“Shitty?” He echos.
“Yeah. Just.. bleh, y’know?”
Negan gives you a stern look, “I don’t know.”
You roll your eyes, not wanting to worry him over something you’d already written off as insignificant. “Just feelin’ icky lately, maybe a bit nauseous. I think this weathers fucking me up.
This causes him to let up a little, though you don’t miss the smug grin on Negan’s face as he continues to shovel snow. “Don’t sound like the weather,” He remarks, “Sure you aren’t pregnant? You and Carl are probably breedin’ like bunnies now you’re living together.”
The vulgar attitude never usually phased you, but this time your brow furrowed, glaring over at the man. “Don’t be gross.” You grumbled.
Luckily, Negan lets up, knowing this may be a soft spot for you. “Fine, I’m just teasing, doll. But you’ll tell me if it gets worse?”
“Yeah,” You agree, hoisting the supplies on your back a little higher. “I’ve gotta go get this rabbit skinned. And I’ll see about that jacket, okay?”
In return, he gives you a semi-enthusiastic thumbs up, though you know the emotion isn’t there. It makes you smile. You’ve truly missed him over these years, and seeing the toll imprisonments had on his attitude is jarring.
Nonetheless, you treck further into the community, locating your place. The small house sits near the back end, away from the main commotion, which you’ve grown to appreciate over time. Originally, you stayed there with Aaron, who was tasked with keeping an eye on you.
Then it was Rosita, and occasionally Tara. Back then, you were equally rude and hostile, and made a point to prove your disdain towards the entire situation. Of course, over the years, those walls melted away and you were forced into a state of acceptance.
Now, there was nobody watching over you. At least not in the safety of your own home. With the rate he was over, Carl practically lived there, though you knew he just didn’t like being in his own house with Rick gone. You’d understand how that would be unsettling.
The door creaked when you opened it, the haul causing you to bump it open with your hip. You dumped the bag at the door, and managed to unhook the bow with one hand.
You ventured further inside, intending to throw the dead rabbit onto the back porch to skin it. But you barely made it three steps down before your mission was halted, two arms snatched around your waist and tugging you back into a firm body.
“Jesus,” You huffed, “I didn’t hear you.”
Carl looks down, eyeing the left side of your head, completely flattened with the absence of an ear. “Shit. Sorry.” He apologised, having momentarily forgot in his haste to greet you.
The injury had thankfully healed, but your eardrum was ruined beyond repair. You were completely deaf from one side.
“I’m also wielding a dead rabbit, so watch out.” You remind him, shimming in his hold so that you’re face to face, though you hold the rabbit at an arms length away from his body.
“Then.. is this a bad time to kiss you?” He asks, and though it sounds genuine, the little smirk on his face indicates that your answer doesn’t matter.
You roll your eyes, a smile growing on your own face. Somehow, after all these years, you still get all bashful. “Never a bad time.”
No matter how much time passed, his lips would always feel perfect on your own. Carl kissed you like you were precious, made of porcelain, and the idea that someone was capable of being so gentle excited you. That, and it let you take control, something you lacked in your current life.
You shimmied your spare hand out of the snowy glove, so that you could wrap it around his neck. Lately, Carl had been letting you trim his hair, though you opted to keep it that same shoulder length, thinking it made him just adorable. He wore the bandage less, too, at least when at home.
Coming up for air, Carl pressed another tender kiss to your cheek, holding you a little closer. “Your hand is really cold.” He whispered.
In response, you dragged your palm over his face, squishing the cold flesh into his cheek. He groaned, finally letting go of you, seeeking reprieve from your snowy fingers.
You were finally able to continue down the hallway, though his footsteps followed right behind.
“Do you want to catch dinner with everyone?” He asked, “They’re cooking the rabbits down by the church.”
“I hate everyone.” You point out, bracing yourself against the cold air outdoors. There’s a metal peg hanging from the back porch, which you affix the rope onto, allowing the rabbit to dangle from its feet.
You can hear Carl has stopped behind you, leaning against the back door. “Besides, I think I wanna stay in. Still feelin’ kinda rough.” You say with a shrug.
It’s like a fish on a hook, where Carl can’t resist clinging to every little word you say. “Still? Do you need to see a doctor?” He suggests, worry in his tone.
Trying to ease his concern, you let go of the rabbit, giving Carl your full attention. “I don’t think so. I’m sure it’s nothing. A cold.”
Carl takes this as permission to dig deeper, wanting to find the root of this issue. He approaches, one hand settling on your hip, the other feeling your forehead. Though your temperature feels fine, he still remarks, “You don’t look like you have a cold.”
“Okay, genius. When did you get your degree?” You quip, the snappy attitude earning you an unamused glare, though it only takes a second before Carl is kissing your forehead, where his hand was.
It irritates you to no end that he’s so forgiving. But over time, Carl has learnt that you get defensive easily, expressed in irritated remarks that can turn borderline cruel. It’s his sign that something is wrong, but he needs to back off for the time being.
“I’ll skin the rabbit. You can lie down.” He suggests.
Your eyes narrow into a glare, not liking the insinuation that you can’t handle it. Though, you’re unable to be properly angry, knowing that he is trying to help. “Thank you.” You end up whispering in agreement, setting aside your pride for the time being.
With that aside, you decided to go and clean up from the hunt. There were little bloodstains on your jacket, so you left it hanging in the laundry for now, intending to deal with it later. Your boots were left at the door, and you quickly walked into the bedroom, intending to wiggle out of the snowy clothes.
Your hair was slightly damp, scalp a little sore from having it tied up all day. So, you padded into the bathroom, hoping to have a hot shower. But the second you looked in the mirror, you remembered what Negan had suggested. Albeit jokingly, but he still said it.
It was like a cruel history repeating itself. Being pregnant was a death sentance, in your eyes. Your own mother had died of birth complications, and that was before the apocalypse. That’s not to mention Lori.
Just the idea made you feel sick again. Scrounging through the bathroom cabinet, you found the beat-up packaging of a pregnancy test you’d stashed after finding it on a run. Just looking at it, all decorated in pink, made you feel worse.
You left it on the counter, hoping a shower would clear your head.
It didn’t.
The test was taunting you, staring at you through the foggy frosted glass of the shower. As much as you hated the notion, it wouldn’t leave your mind unless you got it over with. It was time to bite the bullet.
Still soaking wet from the shower, you fumbled with the box, hands shaking as you read the instructions. Whilst you peed into the little cup, you thought back to all the times you’d been intimate with Carl. The pair of you were relatively safe. But, maybe… maybe there’d been a few times you slipped up.
God, Negan was right. The pair of you were animals. It was like a late puberty, you couldn’t help it, you wanted to jump him at every opportunity. And now, this was your punishment.
A positive pregnancy test.
More like an execution date.
You spend a good ten minutes sitting on the bathroom floor, this indescribable weight on your chest. It gets heavier as time goes by, and you convince yourself that you may actually be unable to breathe if this continues.
Pulling on some clothes, you slowly inch from the bathroom, hair and skin still wet, though that doesn’t matter anymore. You can’t tell Carl, but at the same time, you need to.
You come to a stop at the back of the house, and before you can open the door, you notice Judith through the window. She’s sitting on the porch, talking with Carl as he attempts to skin the rabbit. His technique isn’t very good, but she doesn’t know any better. You hadn’t heard her come in, too busy wallowing in your own panic.
She stands, accepting a knife that Carl offers her, attempting to mimic his actions and take a chunk of fur off the rabbit. Judith struggles, not having the right angle, causing an uneven slice through the rabbits thigh.
Finally, you give in, pushing the door open. “You two are gonna butcher my rabbit.”
Judith turns to you, an eager smile on her face. She offers the knife, handle up like she’d been taught, “Show me?”
Though you accept the knife, Carl interjects, “She’s just had a shower, Jude.” He points out.
“It’s fine,” You assure them, rolling up the sleeves of your pyjama shirt despite the biting cold, “I’ll wash off with the hose. Now watch me, both of you.”
You teach the siblings how to properly skin a rabbit, explaining little tips and answering all of Judith’s questions. Though you’d come here to break some terrible news, you somehow find yourself feeling a little better. Watching Carl try and teach Judith something was heartwarming, and you wondered if he’d be this attentive with his own child.
That, and making Judith an aunt would be a gift in itself.
Later that night, you walk Judith back to her house, where Michonne was already waiting for her. She seemed relieved to know Judith was with you and Carl, given the girl had a tendency to investigate into some of the darker cracks of Alexandria.
There was still that one, heavy piece of information weighing on your mind. Though, it seemed to get lighter and lighter as time went on. When it came time to sleep, you were comfortably nestled against Carl’s side, your head resting on his shoulder.
The words were right there, on the tip of your tongue. It would be so easy to blurt out, yet you felt like doing some preemptive damage control.
“Would you ever wanna have kids?” You ask in a whisper, almost completely inaudible.
Given the circumstances, Carl finds the inquiry pretty strange. He shifts a little, laying on his side, so that you’re forced to face him.
“Maybe.” He says, though he sounds a little unsure of himself.
But maybe isn’t a no.
You stay silent for a moment, unsure of how to proceed now that you’ve gotten your answer. The silence causes Carl to grow curious, curious as to what has sparked this sudden interest.
“Do you?” He asks, looking you right in the eye, which makes you squirm a little.
Everything points towards your admission, but you can’t force the words from your mouth. So you just lay there, watching him, looking a little pent up and almost slightly guilty.
Fortunately, Carl isn’t stupid. He’s quite attentive, actually, especially when it comes to your health.
That, and he’d already found the empty test box in the bathroom, crumpled into the wastebin.
“C’mon.” He whispers, pulling you back into him, arms wrapped around your form. His hand makes its way into your hair, fingers twirling in the strands, keeping your head pressed firmly against his chest.
Carl swallows the lump in his throat, similarly unable to address the issue at hand. But maybe you’d rather he didn’t. “I love you, okay?” He ends up whispering, words uttered against the crown of your head.
You muster a little nod, shifting to worm your arms around his torso. You mirror his tone, quiet and hoarse, though that weight is finally beginning to disappear.
“I love you, too.”
#carl grimes x reader#the walking dead x reader#twd x reader#carl grimes#twd x you#carl grimes x you#negan smith x reader#the walking dead#negan smith
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horse girl zoro/prince sanji au that @redgitanako and i talked about way back when because it suddenly crossed my mind OKAY HERE WE GO
zoro’s a travelling bounty hunter with three horses. yes, three. don’t tell kitetsu and enma but wado’s his favourite
wado was kuina’s horse; when kuina died she was so sad because she didn’t get why kuina was gone and for a while zoro had to emotionally support a horse AND himself, but horses are smart creatures. wado understood by herself after a while. they don’t really talk about it.
on that note, zoro talks to his horses. people look at him like he’s a few crayons short of the whole pack but they don’t say anything because he looks scary as hell; built like a brick wall, one eye gone, gnarly scar across his chest and all
(they’ll never know that he’s having an argument with enma about buying supplies where one party is contributing in possibly-misinterpreted horse looks. the crayons aren’t missing— but it’s admittedly a little hard to prove they’re there, zoro, we can’t keep defending you like this)
sanji's the third prince of the kingdom that hires him; sora’s the queen, and his siblings are all decent other than regular sibling assholery. judge is on the run and they’ve made the collective decision that they want his head on a stick.
zoro expects sanji to be a stuck-up priss because he LOOKS like a stuck-up priss— look at his perfect hair. his clothes. his heeled boots and his stupid curly eyebrows
but NO. well, yes, sanji IS a little bit of a stuck-up priss but also, he’s good with horses?? wado takes to him like a DREAM and zoro's flabbergasted because anybody who has ever tried to coddle her other than zoro or kuina has gotten kicked in the head, but sanji's petting at her neck and cooing at her in baby-talk and she's licking sugar cubes and apple slices out of his palm. zoro feels so betrayed.
like of COURSE his horse had to take a liking to the boy he hates OF ALL PEOPLE.
(zoro. at this moment the horse is smarter than you. listen to her.)
reiju’s the princess here, but sanji’s the one who got all the magic-esque affinities. animals LOVE him. he would be a literal disney princess if not for the fact that he doesn’t love them back
like SQUIRREL. WHY ARE YOU SHITTING ALL OVER MY YARD. GO AWAY. WHY IS A DOG TRYING TO LICK MY HAIR. WHYYY IS THIS BIRD BRINGING ME STICKS ALL THE TIME. he’s trying to fall asleep. he hears a TSKTSKTSKTSKTSKTSKTSK. he sits up and gets right out of bed and starts yelling at the lizard on the ceiling.
he does have a pretty mare called maple, though! (and zoro can’t help but love her too; it’s a sign that the mosshead doesn’t clock until much, much later)
and then zoro comes into his life with his three horses and sanji yanks him in by the collar like "listen up, swordsman. i do not CARE how sweet your horses are. i do not CARE how— how— WHATEVER you are. if you stink up my stable i will make you sleep in it, are we clear?" and zoro just nods because he’s having a bit of a gay crisis
sanji is 1. pretty 2. entirely able to hold his own and 3. Wado Approved™ and zoro does NOT know how to deal. at all. he’s holding onto wado’s reins for dear life. he wonders if the same ultimatum would apply if he swapped out the word stable for bed and immediately wants to dunk himself into the horse trough.
meanwhile sanji isn’t spared at all. sora sits on her throne, one eyebrow raised as her son goes on and on about how "mother i hate the swordsman you hired. he's green. and ugly. like a troll. like an OGRE. his hands are too big. his boots are too shiny. his earrings are cute but only because i want them. his EVERYTHING smells like horse. he might as well be a horse with how strong he is, did you know how many hay bales he carried at once??" and she’s just like,,, "honey are you sure this is hate"
she certainly wouldn’t mind them being together. zoro is rough around the edges and does smell a bit like horse, admittedly, but he was clearly raised right— he’s respectful in his own gruff way and he does things with immense care. sora’s noticed. she knows her son well enough to know that he’s noticed, too.
one day sanji bumps into zoro on his way out of the baths and wow. okay. so he doesn’t smell like horse ALL the time and oh his hair is damp and there's a towel around his waist and he is very, very shirtless and sanji turns around in a panic and walks face-first into a pillar.
he watches zoro care for his horses, carefully brushing through their manes and coats as he speaks to them softly, and alright. maybe this guy isn’t all bad. animals, sanji has noticed, are brilliant judges of character; horses especially can be testy and temperamental, and they don’t hesitate to kick anybody they don’t like.
zoro’s horses love him, and it’s obvious. maple looks forward to the snacks he slips her when he thinks that nobody’s looking. that says a lot more about his character than anything else.
after a few days zoro has a solid plan down and sets out to find judge, and suddenly the stables are empty. sanji finds himself going out with maple more and more, exploring the woods around their forest to pass the time because he needs something to keep his mind occupied and there’s only so much he can cook. judge might be a piece of shit, but he’s also an evil genius, and sanji refuses to admit he’s worried even though he is.
and then zoro comes back with judge’s war helmet wrapped in a cloth, gore dripping off the bottom edge as he sets it at sora’s feet.
he’s a little banged up, tired as hell with a couple of scratches here and there— nothing serious, but sanji still drags him to the infirmary and cleans him up perhaps a little more emotionally than either of them had expected
he passes out for a good few days afterwards but sora invites him to stay for a little longer, a time frame that nobody specifies. zoro just kind of… doesn’t leave. it’s strange for him; he’s wandered, always. he gets antsy staying in one place for too long, but this blond prince that is strangely kind and gives back as good as he gets is really something else.
the days pass. they race and bicker and soon enough, all three of zoro’s horses have brass name plaques tacked above what are now their stalls. he had a room in the palace and a place at the dinner table. sanji’s hair has grown long, now, and neither of them talk about the way that zoro’s stay has become something that feels more permanent—
until zoro finally finds the balls to give sanji one of his earrings as a courting gift. it’s the first one of many, but at that moment sanji just looks at it wide-eyed and zoro starts to shrink back all like "if you. don't want it that's alright. i'll get you something new, something else—" because look, he knows he’s not much. he has money, but not enough to give sanji something really nice. not enough to get something that’s more impressive than all the jewels and gold that the prince could have at a whim. he’s a bounty hunter that came from dirt and this earring is the most precious thing he has to offer, but he understands if—
sanji kisses him. yells something borderline incoherent along the lines of about fucking time as he shakes zoro by the shoulders, but he’s smiling very brightly and he’s very beautiful and zoro has a feeling they're going to be just fine.
(sora and the siblings breathe a collective sigh of relief, because the pining looks and dejected sighing were really getting a little ridiculous.)
(they speak too soon. after they get together it somehow gets WORSE.)
this was a ride… (get it. get it.) okay i’ll stop HOPE YOU ENJOYED HEH i know a lot of places are having a flu season/covid wave going around rn so make sure to hydrate and eat well!! muaks 😽
#i have REALLY got to stop sleeping at 4am#horse girl zoro au#zosan#roronoa zoro#black leg sanji#zoro x sanji#one piece#sanji#one piece zosan#one piece sanji#one piece zoro#zoro
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Hello, can you do 17 and 46 from nsfw prompt list for lando norris. Please and thanks :)
Lando Norris and the buzzy little "friend"
Summary : A certain Mr Norris sets panic coursing through you as he asks to stay over for the first time. You agree but when he finds something in your drawer that makes you all kinds of embarrassed he suddenly is wide awake again....and horny. Very, very horny. Rating : 18+ Pairing : Lando Norris x Reader Word Count : 2, 366 Trigger Warnings : 18+, NSFW, explicit language, female masturbation, male masturbation, orgasm discussion & use of sex toys. Prompt Numbers : 17. Toys (gifting you one, choosing one together, using one) & 46. He watches you masterbate (does he ask or do you suggest, does he walk in on you etc) 💞 Authors Note: Please enjoy a little Lando as I’m working hard on the next few “All Too Well” chapters 🥰.
As Lando yawned you knew what was about to come pouring out of his mouth as the end credits began to roll on the film you guys had been watching. “Baby, I’m too tired to drive home…” He paused and you were holding your breath. “…can I stay over?”
His question hung in the air. He hadn’t stayed at your place yet. You’d only really been dating officially for around eight weeks and in all that time you had only stayed at his or in his hotel rooms. In fact, tonight was probably the longest you guys had actually spent in your apartment. Usually he was picking you up or dropping you off and aside from that one time you roped him into helping move your sofa from one wall to the other, he hadn’t really spent any significant amount of time in your abode. You knew the longer you left the question unanswered he would be thinking the worst so quickly you hurried out a; “Yup, ok.”
As soon as you confirmed he would indeed be staying the night in your bed a knot formed in your stomach and as utterly ridiculous as it sounded, you started to think about your bedroom in your head. You had the typical bedroom for a woman in her early twenties trying to figure out what kind of woman she was while showing her personality. The walls were neutral but you had some prints on them and then a bookshelf with little books and more mementos of what felt like stupid, childish trinkets now you thought about it. Then your mind shot to Mr Barnaby on your bed and tried to think of how you could squirrel him away without Lando noticing. As quickly as you thought of your childhood bear, you also thought of the clothes that you need to put away in the washing basket and the others on the chair that needed washing. Fuck, he had seen you naked. Surely he could handle seeing yesterdays bra?
You asked Lando to take the plates and glasses to the kitchen and you said you were just popping to the restroom but really you went to give your room a quick glance. Everything was fine. You actually put the clothes away this morning and the dirty clothes were already in your washing machine, you had forgotten in a panic and quickly you put Mr Barnaby in a drawer before Lando finally appeared in your room and you smiled at him.
Observing your new boyfriend you realised how tired he actually looked and he really shouldn’t have been driving. He came straight to you from his flight home earlier tonight. He made you melt when he said he was desperate to see you and have you cuddled in his arms. It made you feel so grateful to the universe for allowing you to get to see this beautifully sensitive guy you were really falling head of heels in love with. He kissed the top of your head and asked again if you were ok with him staying and you nodded. He took your confirmation and ran with it. Pulling both his hoody and his t-shirt off at the same time. Lando’s tanned, taught skin never failed to make your mouth water. You couldn’t help but stare for a while before finally, he encouraged you to get undressed too. You pulled your own hoody off and looked down to see your hands tremor. Why the fuck were you nervous? He had seen your boobs before. He liked your boobs. He really liked your boobs but you supposed that perhaps it was because usually you guys were having sex before falling asleep and that was why tonight felt different.
Lando got into your bed before you did and you could feel his eyes on you as you removed your sweatpants and folded them before placing them on the chair in the corner of the room. Eventually you had to turn and finally, the eyes that had been watching you remove your clothes now stared into yours. He was lying in your sheets, it slung across his mid chest and his bicep looked good enough to sink your teeth into as he curled it behind his head. Lando looked so at home in your bed. He looked so comfortable and natural. Effortless. And what was even more effortless was the way that he pulled back the covers for you to get in bedside him. The bed was fairly new and the mattress sunk only a little as you slid into it to be beside Lando. Your body slithered under the covers and was instantly met by his radiating heat. You knew he knew you were on edge and so he started talking to you in an effort to get you more relaxed. His bed voice was better than any calming app you could download on your phone. And the fact that no one else got to hear it turned you on to no end. And low and behold it was working. His voice eased your worry. As a thank-you you went to lean in to kiss him warmly but he pulled back a little. Lando admitted that his lips were dry and he confessed he had been avoiding kissing you all night due to it because he didn’t want to disappoint you. You found it to be a ridiculous reason considering he knew how much you loved his lips and you didn’t want to be denied them, especially not any longer. So you informed him there was a chapstick in the bedside table.
“Uh…” He let out a short uncouth chuckle “y/n what’s this?” He asked and before you could even ask him a single question he was holding perhaps the worst thing he could ever have found in your room. A small little battery operated friend that kept you company over the course of your eight long single girl months. Now it seemed ridiculous to have been worried about Mr Barnaby, your clean and dirty clothes and appearing like your room was mature enough. You eventually made eye contact with him and you saw the amusement plastered all across his face.
“So uh, how does this…” Lando looked for the button and the words to beg him not too turn it on were teetering on the tip of your tongue but it was too late. The toy suddenly started buzzing and Lando’s mouth dropped open.
“Fuck. That’s so strong.” He practically shouted and you tried to make a grab for it but he immediately held it away from you. And then, when he glanced at you, you could read his mind. Before you had a chance to tell him that what his filthy, dirty mind was thinking would not be happening he was already suggesting it; “Show me…show me how you use it.” “No, you’re supposed to be tiered, Lando.” You tried to sound as commanding as possible but it was futile. “Well, I’m not anymore.” He was so blunt “Now, I’m just horny.”
Lando’s stare told you there was no way he was going to give up. He was going to be persistent about him watching you use the toy you bought on a whim. You sighed. “I’m too…” You were about to say tired but then instead said “embarrassed.” And covered your no doubt blushing face. You didn’t have the kind of girlfriends that would talk about that sort of thing. It wasn’t like you had a group like Carrie Bradshaw in Sex and the City. And you couldn’t liken yourself to no Samantha Jones – even if you figured you’d be the only one out of your group of friends who actually did own a vibrator. “Why? I’ve seen everything already” He smirked “I’ve tasted everything already.” That was true and the memory of it made you press your legs together, which only added to Lando’s insistence. “See, your horny thinking about it.”
His persuasion lasted approximately five minutes. He started gently but then he rolled on top of you and started kissing your neck. It was defiantly a tactic to get you all hot and bothered so he would get what he wanted but now he the effect he had desired and your blood coursed down south. You muttered a quick; “fine” and Lando immediately pulled the covers back and got down to the bottom of the bed excitedly.
“Ok…” he said and you were waiting on him making some cheesy remark like they did at the start of a race. You took the toy from his grip and watched as he licked his lips when you took your panties off and gently opened your legs for him. His eyes trailed down over your now naked body and you had to take a deep breath to steady yourself. It wasn’t like it was a regular occurrence. In fact, no guy had ever asked you to masturbate for him – touch yourself as they fucked you, yes but masturbate, as they watched, never. You slowly ran your fingers down across your dampening folds. Collecting some of your arousal and spreading it around a bit so your toy would easily glide. As your boyfriend was laser focused on what your fingers were doing you were more focused on watching his reactions. Intently you watched as he bit his lower lip and moved his hand toward his crotch and his evidently hardening member. You had to remind yourself to focus because watching Lando as he palmed at his glorious cock through his straining boxers almost made you lapse concentration. He groaned as soon as you sighed when you started warming up by playing with your sensitive clit before finally turning on the toy to it’s lowest setting.
When you hovered the humming toy over yourself so lightly that it barely touched you, Lando groaned again. Your back arched and naturally you pressed it to yourself slightly harder. Soft vibrations made sparks rupture across your ultra sensitive areas. Your nipples hardened while your toes curled at the blissfully pleasing sensation. “How does it feel, baby?” “So fucking good, Lando.” Your eyes closed and you began to lose the nerves that had built inside of you. Your breathing quickened but it wasn’t the only person’s. Just watching the toy vibrating away, making your pretty pussy flutter clearly set Lando off. You could hear his breathing first followed by a hiss and then the sound of his hand working up and down his lengthy, big cock. Almost like you were giving him a reward just as well as yourself, you pressed the button to turn the toy up higher. A delighted gasp fled your lips, which was followed by another and another while your brow furrowed and you squirmed at the intense sensation. Truthfully, since you started sleeping with Lando you hadn’t reached for the toy once. He had you satisfied enough that you never felt like you needed to get yourself off. You had forgotten about how quickly the vibrator made you a quivering, trembling mess. So the search for your orgasm was going to be a quick one. Lando swore again and just hearing him getting off while he watched you did something too you. It gave you such a confidence boost and such a high that you bumped up the intensity of the vibrating friend even more.
“Lan…” you breathed, struggling to say his name. “Fuck, your so beautiful.” He groaned and this time, you opened your eyes to see what he was doing. Lando’s eyes were honed in on your pussy while his hand was frantically pumping up and down his engorged cock. You had to stay focused because usually that sight would make you want to get on your knees and taking him in your mouth till he finished all over your tongue but that was not your goal tonight. He wanted to see you get off not the other way round. However, the sheer thought of blowing your panting boyfriend was enough to give you the first little sparks of an orgasm. You breathed his name again and gritted your teeth as you moved the toy a little so it was now, pressed directly to your clit and it was utterly relentless. In your mind you willed yourself to keep going and keep it exactly where you had it because you knew any second your legs were going to start trembling and you’d have a very intense, beautiful release.
With nothing short of a pornographic moan, you climaxed. Your orgasm ripped through your entire body and was so powerful that you lunged forward and grabbed hold of Lando’s arm just for stability. Swear words flowed freely from you as your nails dug into Lando’s skin and your legs quaked with how extreme your high was. While you fought with your lungs to calm your breathing, Lando clearly found watching you while you got yourself off too much. Only seconds after your own release, Lando was finding his. Your boyfriends’ unsteady grunts increasing with every rough stroke until finally – with your name blurting out of his open mouth – cum flowed from the tip of his cock. Your eyes never left the sight, too woozy from your high but also because you liked seeing the way your dirty, naughty act affected him. His thighs tensed, his lower abs did too, until they trembled just like yours had done till he was completely spent.
“Fuck….” He sighed and opened his eyes, turned toward you and repeated himself with a shaky little laugh. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” His praise meant everything to you. He then proceeded to stumble over his words and he tried to describe what he watched but he ended you just grabbing you and kissing you deeply. “Thank-you.” He stated eventually against your lips and you couldn’t help but thank him back. You had too. Without his insistence you would probably have never relaxed with him sleeping over for the first time.
#lando norris#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lando norris one shot#lando norris fic#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando norris blurb#lando norris rec#lando norris smut#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 one shot#f1 smut#f1 x reader#f1 x you
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when you wash your hair, joel miller
summary: IN WHICH — you decide to surprise a sleeping joel after you've been working all day outside of jackson's walls, but it doesn't go as you plan.
warnings: gender neutral x joel miller, post outbreak!joel, jackson!joel, mentions of you and joel in a relationship, sub!joel, joel has ptsd, joel almost hurts reader (doesn't tho so dw!), lots of fluff at the end, cute ending, lots of swearing, ellie being annoying as per usual LOL. lmk if there’s anything i missed <3
wordcount: 2.6k
a/n: hiiii this is my very first fic on tumblr! i have been obsessed w/ tlou for the LONGEST time now so why not start writing for my fav fictional mass murderer? anyway- hope u guys enjoy! i plan to post a ton more so stay tuned xoxo
—
You had just finished an ungodly long shift along the outskirts of Jackson, keeping everyone inside safe from- well, whatever lay outside (scary squirrels, mostly). It had been so different since you arrived, with Joel and Ellie. For starters, you weren't kept on edge every single second of every single day - Joel was, which you always got pissed at him for, since you two were more than safe inside these walls. There was also the fact that life had sort of just- resumed, after twenty years of fighting for your life. It was alright, though, a sense of normalcy was nice, even if it were to only last for a little while (you were hoping it lasted forever).
As soon as you were inside the gates of Jackson, you rode over to the stables in which your horse, Leo, was housed at. The big wooden doors were opened by a stable hand that looked no older than Ellie, maybe she knew who this was, you thought to yourself.
You had slid the kid a small "thank you." as they closed the door behind you, and you hopped off Leo. You reached in your bag and scrounged for a second, before pulling out an apple core, the remains of the apple you had eaten earlier. "Here boy," your hand raised towards the horse's snout with the leftovers in-palm, and he took it as if it were the best thing in the world.
Leo munched away while you swapped his bridle for a halter and lead, tugging him to his freshly-mucked stall. He had walked over to his water bucket and you moved with him, undoing his girth and removing his saddle. It was hoisted over your arm as you moved out and locked his stall. "Excuse me," You called over to the stable hand that had let you in as you put all of his tack on the stand in front, "Do you mind brushing him down for me? I've had a long day and gotta get home quick."
The kid nodded their head eagerly, which had earned a smile from you. You weren't lying about having a long day or needing to get home quick - besides, you had always stayed after your shifts, right now you were just craving to see your favourite person (and a warm bath too, you had guessed).
You had removed your gloves as you took one last glimpse at your boy before you left him to be taken care of by the stable hand. As you walked out of the stable, you were greeted with a nice breeze. It wasn't exactly winter yet, but it sure as hell wasn't summer. Autumn was close on finishing, which only meant the days were getting longer.
It took you a mere twenty five minutes to walk back to the Miller residence. If you had a little pep in your step, it would've taken no longer than fifteen. But, being up since before sunrise has its cons. Anyway, it isn't your fault that Tommy and Maria (Joel's brother and new sister-in-law) placed you guys in the farthest house literally ever.
As you approached closer to the home, you could see the familiar little (she would kill you if she heard you describe her as little) girl. The girl took notice of you too, "Fucking finally!" Ellie had kicked up her skateboard, grabbing the tip of it, and came running over. "Jesus Christ, I thought you had got eaten by like- fucking bigfoot out there!", She seemed to be only half-joking.
"I was not eaten out there, Ellie." You sigh as you messed her hair up slightly with your hand, "Is Joel still out on patrol?" You had asked the girl. Her face dropped, earning an "ugh!" from her. "You two love birds are gross. You should care more about me than him! He's a frail, broken, old man while I'm a super cool, and totally awesome young person." You rolled your eyes, an automatic laugh escaping your lips. "Another half an hour out here, Elle. It's almost sundown- and please be careful, for fuck sakes. I don't want to be popping your kneecap back in place because of a fall off that- board."
You weren't Ellie's mom, and you didn't mean to take any place of a motherly figure in her life - it just, sort of happened. After what had happened in Salt Lake City a year ago, and you had fought for Ellie back alongside Joel, you couldn't help but grow so much more attached to her- you and Joel both. This is when your motherly instincts (you were never a mother, not before or during this apocalyptic world) kicked in. You both shared a special bond, one that would never be broken, despite the cruel world you both live in.
A small grunt and a "fine" escaped the girl's lips as she flips her board down and kicks off down the street. You shake your head with an almost disapproving look and walk down the rest of the block to your home. A small smile plays upon your lips as you approach the house with a mailbox at the bottom of the driveway that reads "MILLER". Your last name was not Miller, but you were in a relationship with a Miller, so that could maybe, in the slightest, count as your name too.
Your hand brushed past the rusted metal box as you walk up the paved drive way, you're excited to see Joel. Hell, it feels like it's been an eternity since you've seen that man - when in reality, it's only been since this morning. You climb up the wooden stairs at the front of your porch and remove your boots before entering the house - this saved horrid amounts of mud that would scatter in the small foyer of your home. Once your feet are out of your dirty boots, you silently enter the home.
The door was never locked, not when Joel knew you or Ellie weren't home. You didn't know why he kept it unlocked- maybe in case something had happened and you needed to get home fast, or in case you would lose your keys while out and about. It wasn't that big of a deal, though; nobody else lived in this part of the town (besides Tommy and Maria, who were distant neighbours).
It was dead silent when you entered, too eery for your liking. "Joel?" You called out as you shrugged off your autumn layers. No response. "Joel?" You call out once again, moving to where you had seen the light. You approached tip-toeing, starting to get a bit on edge. Joel was always there to greet you when you got home, unless he had patrol duty himself. As soon as you step foot in your living room, all of the previous worries you had melted away as you saw your favourite person curled up on the arm chair, sitting back and mouth open slightly. You wish you had a camera, god a polaroid of this would be amazing.
You approached him, quiet as ever, sliding the sleeves of your soft-knit sweater over ninety percent of your hands. You had brought your face closer to Joel's once you were close enough. The smell of his vanilla and rose scented shampoo had engulfed you. Joel said he hated it (in reality, he definitely did not), but if it made you love him a little more, he would wash his hair with it.
"You're perfect, you know that." You whisper to him, even though he was sound asleep. From the faded freckles over the bridge of his nose from being out in the sun too much this summer, to the small scars that littered his forehead from years of just surviving, he was perfect.
You breathed hushly as you moved your hands up to his face, to cup his cheeks. You thought it was perfect, for him to wake up to you (as if he didn't every morning) at this moment. You knew he missed you when he wasn't with you, he told you multiple times. This would be a nice thing to make his day slightly better, you had thought. Your fingers made soft contact with the flesh on his face - but, this is where it all went wrong.
Joel had shot up from the deep (well, you thought deep) sleep he was in and grabbed the hands that were touching his face. It hadn't registered to him that it was actually you who was touching his face, and not a clicker, or a raider, or anything else. Rage and a sense of fear filled his eyes as they shot opened, eyebrows furrowed as they looked around frantically - he was ready to fight.
A loud grunt and an "ow." escaped your lips once your hands were grabbed and yanked. It had happened within a blink of an eye. You weren't exactly in the mood for getting manhandled in this current moment, but here you were. "Joel- hey, hey, it's just me. You're okay." You spoke quick, trying to pry him off your hand.
It was now that his eyes had met yours, and it took him a moment (which felt like eternity) to process it was you. "Baby.." His grip immediately loosened and his eyes fell. He looked horrified, at himself rather than anything. "M'sorry." There was a tone in his voice that made him sound ashamed, like he had just broken bad news to someone he loved.
"Don't apologize to me, Jesus Christ." You spoke almost too fast and brought your hand to his face again, you felt bad for scaring him awake- your plan had massively backfired. It took Joel a minute before he melted into the touch of your hand in his cheek, something he will only do when it is only you and him around each other. "Shouldn't have been sleepin' while you weren't home." He muttered, his eyes looking everywhere but at yours.
Your heart ached, he shouldn't feel like this- fuck, you're so stupid for doing this you thought to yourself. "Don't apologize baby, hey-" You brought his focus to you, and only you, "-listen, you're alright, okay? We're safe here, you know. I'm safe, Ellie's safe, you're safe." You reassured the man in front of you. "If you want to sleep all day without a care in the world, you can do it."
Joel was being extremely vulnerable right now- and he knew that you sensed it. This part of him never came out, he was always the strong one in the relationship (not that you weren't, he just had that aura linked to him). Your finger rubbed back and forth over his cheek. "M'sorry for waking you from your nap- I was just too jealous of how peaceful you looked. All comfortable in your blue sweater.." your eyes started to trail down his body right in front of you, "-your sweatpants.." you snapped yourself out of the trance you had fallen in, your eyes reaching back up to Joel's.
He was just quiet, in his own thoughts. "Ya'know I love you." you told him. He looked like he snapped out of his own thoughts once you said this to him, the smallest smile known to man appearing on his face (it was genuine, though). "I know, darlin'." This was your cue, you reached forward and placed your lips onto Joel's. Now this, this was home- god, you could've had your lips on his all day for eternity. Joel melted into the kiss, and placed one of his hands on your thighs.
Things had got heated between the two of you within seconds, suddenly the positions were switched and you were straddling Joel on the armchair in your living room. It wasn't until you tore apart from his lips that it hit you. "Ellie’s going to be home soon, baby. We can't have her catching us like this- not again." You tell him as you catch your breath. His lips find your neck, he only hummed in response. After a moment of no proper response from him, you tap his shoulder, "Seriously, Joel!". He had grunted, basically forcing himself off of you. "So let her see us, not like she don't know 'bout it." He muttered, leaning back in the chair you two were in. "Oh, suddenly you're mister PDA?" You asked as you got up, stretching.
He said something under his breath that you couldn't catch, but chose not to pressure him about it. "But hey.." You grab his hand and help him up, "Maybe you could help me in the shower, hm? Let me borrow some o' that good smellin' shampoo ya' got? Wash my hair for me?” Your eyes met his, a smile completely lighting up your entire face. "I'on mind, doll. Maybe you could help me with a few things too," He reaches down, pressing a wet kiss onto your lips.
You take this as the perfect time to slip your fingers between his, and lead him up to the second floor of your large house. Even though you had completely scared the shit out of Joel earlier, and you thought you were a dead man for a split second, he forgave you. He always forgives you - this is why you love him.
Joel had promised you that he would always stay, no matter what had happened between you two. After years of being together, through your ups and your downs, through your serious arguments and your little scares (like this), he was yours. Joel was always yours, and you were always his.
You two come laughing down the stairs, completely soaked from the shower you had taken together. Joel was back in the clothes he wore when you got home, and you were changed into one of his shirts and a pair of sleeping shorts you had. He had his hand in yours as you lead him down the stairs. Before you could even step foot on the first floor, an "ew!" was yelled by a familiar voice.
"That is fucking disgusting- I cannot believe it! I can't leave you two together for more than thirty minutes before you turn into fucking rabbits. I may as well start thinking about names for the baby!" Ellie over exaggerates, acting completely disgusted from you and Joel holding hands.
Joel shoots Ellie a death glare as he drops his hand from yours momentarily, about to open his mouth before you interrupt. "Do I need to send you to your room, or something? You're so fucking crazy Elle!" You had let the little nick name slip out of your mouth, "You know I would never do anything unholy under the same roof as you." Well, you weren't lying. You and Joel never did it while Ellie was there, you didn't want anyone hearing what happened while you two were alone.
"Don't care, that's gross! Dinner is already made, I am GOING TO BED!" She had yelled as she was already half way up the stairs to her room on the second floor. Joel's hand snaked around your waist from behind as you tsk. "We got stuck with the most batshit crazy kid, I'm telling you."
Joel's hand tightens a smudge when you say that, "I love her though, and you I guess." He rests his head between the crook of your neck and slightly lets go once you add that. Even after the little bicker between the teenager, you couldn't help but smile to yourself.
Even though you were in the midst of an apocalypse, life couldn't have been anymore good to you. They gave you Joel, and you were content - more than content - with it.
—
when you wash your hair, matt maltese
#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel tlou#tlou#tlou2#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ell#ellie the last of us#joel the last of us#joel miller the last of us#ellie williams the last of us#joel x you#joel x reader#x reader#gn reader#chasedbyatlantic#joel#miller#the last of us
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Decided to revamp my Sinner Slugcats so they're not all just multicolored scugs.
I did look into some of the symbols and stuff of the game, so the writing is more or less "Outlaw, Number", since I wasn't sure how to make a "Sinner" symbol in the RW language, so I just used Outlaw since it has the lowest Karma symbol anyway.
Intricacies under the readmore
Yi Sang: Inspired by daszombes' Deadlands video, he is a "Flying Slugcat", like a sugar glider or flying squirrel. He has no true flight, but it works
Faust: Some sort of Echo or associated. Has her own citizen ID drone of an unknown Iterator, and it also acts as a little scanner (inspired by @astragatwo's take on scug Faust). She still maintains Gourmand's crafting ability, but it might be more taxing with her smaller frame.
Don Quixote: A special breed of Slugcat meant to go fast, her legs are quite powerful, letting her make longer pounces or generally run faster than most other scugs. Obviously, her lack of weight makes her weak to poleplants/worm grass, but y'know.
Ryoshu: Similar to Spearmaster, but by way of King Vulture, she only has one spear directly connected to her that she can recall (it does not act like SM's feeding needles). Also, a subtle detail is that her ears are absolutely massive compared to most scugs, giving her enhanced hearing.
Meursault: (Perhaps a Purposed Being?) He has face armor not unlike a lizard, in fact he's about the same size as a blue lizard. His bite is quite powerful, and he's certainly the best to have in front going through pipes, as his face will deflect spears (should the scavs be aggro or something). He might also have better climbing ability, able to get on walls and such, but he's very heavy so idk
Hong Lu: Bioluminescent, like a fun mix of lantern mice and cyan lizards, he can "turn it off" as it were. His tail also can be used as a small flashbang, but obviously only once (per cycle). Of course, this helps with coalescipedes, but makes him a damn beacon otherwise.
Heathcliff: Still Artificer based, where explosions and such just don't really bother him and he's able to maul enemies (though obviously his bite is weaker than Meur's). He also has a pearl hanging around his neck of unknown use, but clearly given to him by someone special.
Ishmael: Rivulet, but even closer to salamander where she actually has fins, her ability to swim is obviously a cut above everyone else's. She's probably had a bad run in or two with Leviathans. Her cloak is probably a gift from whatever version of Queequeg this world has
Rodion: Also inspired by astragatwo, she's mega fluffy making her very warm. Though, this does make it annoying for her to swim if the area is cold because she'll freeze faster. I still like the idea she can carry more scugs on her, but idk. (She does look more like a fox, but such is the price of floof)
Sinclair: Saint-lite, and still pup-sized (he's an adult, just tiny like Don) so long as he's not at lowest Karma, he has limited ability to incapacitate enemies (not quite enough to ascend) and fly a bit with said ability. I basically wanted to reference his Mark of Cain somehow.
Outis: Ironically, just your average Slugcat. She probably has stuff going on with reputation or maybe she allows Echos to appear on first visit, or convinces Pebbles to not murder everyone immediately
Gregor: Definitely a creature that has been fucked with too much. Originally just a Slugcat that had been spliced with a centiwing (sorta like how the Miros Vultures are hybrids), he seemed to have got infected by the Rot, most likely when whatever Iterator structure he was hanging out around pulled a Pebbles
#ari art#rain world#limbus company#yi sang#faust#don quixote#ryoshu#meursault#hong lu#heathcliff#ishmael#rodion#emil sinclair#outis#gregor
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by Lee Smith
The Biden team’s offer to trade Yahya Sinwar, the man believed to be the mastermind of the Oct. 7 attack, for guarantees that the Israeli military stay out of Rafah points to two disturbing truths about the current conflict in the Middle East. The first is that the U.S. knows plenty about what the Hamas terror group is doing and has done. The second is that Washington has been keeping key information—like the terror leader’s whereabouts—from the Israelis, thereby prolonging the war that it claims to decry.
The implications of the administration’s offer, relayed in a recent Washington Post article, has Israelis and U.S. pro-Israel activists livid. Israel’s former ambassador to the U.S. Michael Oren, for instance, posted on X, “I am shocked and sickened by reports that the U.S. is withholding from Israel vital information on the whereabouts of senior Hamas leaders in Gaza. Is the administration still our ally?”
The Biden administration is making the offer because all its efforts to end Israel’s war have failed and if Rafah falls, Hamas is likely to fall, too. It seems there’s no other way to preserve a pillar of what the White House calls “regional integration”—a euphemism for the U.S.-Iran alliance system that Barack Obama has tried to impose on the Middle East for the last decade.
Leaks that the Biden administration is withholding actionable intelligence on Hamas’ paramount leader in Gaza confirm that, as Tablet reported shortly after the Oct. 7 massacre, the administration had a wealth of intelligence on the terror group and its plans. If U.S. intelligence agencies are confident that they know where Sinwar is squirreled away now, in the chaos of wartime, they also knew what he was doing in the lead-up to the massive attack.
Biden and his aides have formulated their scenario: Hamas ‘technocrats’ will constitute the Iranian-backed component in a unity government with the U.S.-backed faction that now rules the West Bank. Hamas is a pillar of the U.S.-Iran condominium.Share
The administration’s efforts to disclaim any foreknowledge of the attack were always absurd. The U.S. has not only its own unrivaled collection of signals intelligence but also significant intelligence channels in Qatar, where Hamas leaders are based; in Lebanon, where Hamas fighters trained under the supervision of Iranian officials; and Egypt, which shares a border with Gaza and allows Hamas to smuggle weapons through the terror group’s extensive tunnel network. Further, detailed open-source reporting, especially in The Wall Street Journal, months prior to the attack showed that top Iranian officials were visiting Lebanon to coordinate major operations with Hamas and Hezbollah leaders.
And yet, according to reports shortly after Oct. 7, there was no evidence U.S. spy services shared with Jerusalem their intelligence on Hamas. The Biden administration rationalized its failures by claiming there was nothing exceptional about its findings, much of which was gathered in areas where the U.S. prevented or discouraged Israeli intelligence from operating. As one U.S. source told the press, “I think what happened is everyone saw these reports and were like, ‘Yeah of course. But we know what this will look like.’” In other words, the Biden administration knew there was something big in the works; the only question is whether it had any indication of the full scope of the Oct. 7 operation.
Read the whole thing.
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Valentine's Day 💖🍫
In case I don’t finish a fic for today, here’s a short alcale/calever thing I posted earlier on twitter:
Alver is visiting Earth 2 in his dreams to learn about different weapons, when Choi Jungsoo asks: “So what are you doing with Cale for Valentine’s Day?”
“…What’s Valentine’s Day?”
Hours later, Alver is busy pacing and panicking in front of his office’s hidden conspiracy wall. There’s a specific Earth holiday for romantic couples? And nobody told him?!
The first week of the second month is already over. There is no time to prepare. He's going nuts.
(Back on Earth 2, Lee Soohyuk shakes his head. “Cale probably doesn’t care about Valentine’s Day either.” He turns to one team member in particular. “Right, Roksoo?”
Roksoo just looks up from his novel and blinks. “…I want chocolate.”
“That’s not what I was asking!”)
(Cale sneezes and rubs the back of his neck. He feels a chill…)
Alver can do this. He had much shorter deadlines in the past with far graver consequences for missing them. And it’s not like Cale will be disappointed if Alver doesn’t know about Earth customs. Maybe. Hopefully.
Alver’s next few days are a chaotic whirlwind of interrogating asking Choi Han and people from Earth 2 for info, finishing as much paperwork as inhumanly possible, spending an ungodly amount of time in the kitchen, and ignoring skillfully evading Tasha’s amused questions.
On the 14th day of the month, Alver teleports into the Super Rock Villa and scares Cale so much he falls off his couch.
“Is something wrong?” Cale asks, confused. The king is dressed casually but nicely, and he also looks unusually flustered. Is there an emergency?
A small box with a ribbon bounces off Cale’s forehead. “Hey!”
“Happy Valentine’s Day, you dense bastard,” Alver mutters, putting the cross in Crossman with his scowl and folded arms. He belatedly feels foolish for worrying this much, considering Cale’s personality.
Cale looks at Alver in mild amusement. “You didn’t have to bother.”
Alver’s face turns red. “Just shut up and eat it.”
The box contains chocolates that are obviously homemade. Cale smiles at the thought of Alver grumbling about tempering, annoyed that everything isn’t perfect.
“Happy Valentine’s Day to you too,” Cale says, popping a chocolate in his mouth. They’re sweet (just like the person who made them).
Alver nods stiffly. “Enjoy. I should go back to work.” His embarrassed exit is interrupted when a silver shield surrounds him.
Cale laughs. Alver looks like a hamster in a ball—a hamster is close enough to a squirrel, right?—so he rolls the king toward his bed. “Leaving before getting your gift?”
“Huh?” Alver blinks. Then turns red. “Oh! Oh…”
...
Then they fuck I guess. The end. 😂
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HEY LOLITA HEY!
Albert shaw x reader smut
Warnings; all is consensual. nsfw themes. Praising, riding COCK. , LOL UM KIDNAPPING? It just apart of the story idc. He's caring, he is like mid 40s in this. , young is brought up but the reader is over 18 I promise.
A/n: READER IS OF AGE YALL!!!! Also grabber is not in character..
-
You were riding your bike down the road you lived on. A nice neighborhood, a cul-de-sac. Your heart raced, You was going so fast that Your hair was flying behind You. Suddenly, a squirrel ran across the road, and you had to swerve to avoid it. You swerved as you lost control of your bike. Before you knew what was happening you hit the concrete curb and fell off. It hurt. You couldnt muster up courage to get up sk you decided to just sit on the curb. A man was standing near his black van with some writing on it, and he began to approach you. "Are you okay?" He asks, putting on his black magicians hat. You looked down to look at your knee wasn't hurt badly, but you did have some scrapes and bruises.
"I guess. Could you help me up sir?" You blushed. He picked you up, bridal style and began to carry you to his van. "I'll drive you home. Don't worry." He said. He opened up the back doors, and before you knew it you were sprayed in the face with a mysterious substance. Before you knew what it was you were knocked out, laying silent in your kidnappers van.
You a had always been a heavy sleeper, but this was different. You had never fallen into a slumber as deep as this before. You slowly opened your eyes, trying to remember where you was and what had happened.
The first thing she noticed was the darkness. It enveloped her like a thick blanket, making it impossible to see anything around her. Lena reached out to try and feel her surroundings, but all she could touch was cold, hard concrete. She realized that she was lying on the ground, and her heart started to race as she tried to piece together what had happened.
As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you realized that she was in a basement. The room was small and cramped, with a low ceiling that made it feel even more claustrophobic. There were no windows, and the only source of light was a small, dim bulb flickering overhead. Within seconds, her breath started coming in shorter intervals, and you could feel your heartbeat drumming against your chest.
Panic surged inside you. You tried to remember how you got here, but everything was foggy. You quickly checked her pockets, hoping to find her phone, but it wasn't there. You tried to calm down, telling yourself you needed to be rational, but your thoughts were racing.
As you took deep breaths and tried to gather her thoughts, you noticed a small, barely visible outline of a door on the opposite wall. Your heart racing, you got up and walked towards it, her hands shaking. You tried opening the door, hoping it wasn't locked, but it wouldn't budge. It felt like it was jammed shut.
That's when she saw the small window. You peered through it, hoping to get a glimpse of who had brought you here or were there any exit paths; however, it was too dark. You couldn't see anything beyond the glass.
You didn't know how long you had been in the basement, but it felt like hours. You had no idea where you are, who had put you in this room, or even if you were safe. You knew you had to keep her wits about her and try to find a way out.
You rummaged around in the darkness, feeling along the walls. Suddenly, your fingers came across a small crack in the wall. It was almost too small to notice, but when you touched it, you felt a cold draft of air on your hand. You realized it was a vent, and perhaps your only hope for fresh air and potential exit point.
You had looked around and to your surprise you found a door. You walked over and decided to give the knob a chance. the door was unlocked. Fear gripped you as you approached the open doorway cautiously, you walked up the steps and seen the light coming from a room. You got to the top of the steps, peeked your head out and your eyes scanning the dimly lit room.
You stood out in the middle of the dining room to see a man sitting on a singular chair without his shirt on. He had on a scary mask.
She was about to run when the figure turned around, revealing the face of a older more handsome man from earlier. But instead of attacking her, the man held out his hands in surrender. "Come here. Don't be scared. I won't hurt you." You walked closer to the man.
"Please don't call the cops, i will treat you so good babygirl" he said, his voice trembling. "I didn't bring you here to hurt you. I'm just desperate and needed someone."
You hesitated, unsure of what to do. The man looked genuinely remorseful, but you didn't know if you could trust him. You walked over to him. Noticing how he patted his lap you sat down on his legs.
"Your so young. So delicate.." he whispered in your ear. You blushed. You tried to move but he wrapped his arms around you prohibiting your movements. "Call me al. If not that then dont call me anything." He said. His hips began bucking up into you. Making you whimper. "AL. Please." You let yourself go. You decided to just let him do it. "Please what? Say it. " he said gripping your thigh.
You whimpered. His grip strengthened. "Fuck me. Please. Fuck me al." You whined, feeling his hard on press against your core. He pulled his pants down to his mid thigh , exposing himself to you. You decided to do the same, pulling your pants and panties all the way down. You got
ontop of him, touching his cock. You jerked him watching how sensitive he is.
You lined his up with your cunt and sat down. He gave you no time to get used to the stretch and he began thrusting his hips up into you. "Good girl. Take it like the good girl you are." He said while his thrusts got faster. his hands were on your hips. His grip bruising, but you loved it. "I'm about to..." he groaned in your ear. You cried as you came. His cum overflowing from your abused cunt. "Fuck." AL groaned as you got up and wobbled away. "Bathrooms right there!"
#alternative#aesthetic#slashers#horror#horror headcanons#fanfiction#slashpuppi#slasher headcanons#slasher fucker#the black phone#the black phone smut#the grabber#the grabber smut#albert shaw#albert shaw smut
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do you ever wonder what Nathan Wesninski was like as a child? I was thinking about this last night.
Obviously there’s an argument that he grew up in a bad household, trauma, etc
(CW: mild discussions of gore)
But isn’t it so much more interesting to imagine he had a healthy, loving home life growing up. Parents who cared and wanted to support him
But he found an early fascination with knives. Burning ants on the sidewalk with a magnifying glass. Crushing bugs between his fingers or ripping their legs off to watch them slowly die. Moving his way up to squirrels and birds. Neighborhood cats and dogs go missing and turn up in the owners driveway days later mutilated.
Seeking out a crowd of people at school he could use as a wall of muscle until he could escalate to further more extreme torment on other students.
Equally charming to all of the faculty and terrifying to other students lower on the food chain. Getting away with things because no one would rat on him out of fear and because they know the faculty wouldn’t believe that Nathan is capable of something like this. He’s a good kid, with good grades, lots of friends, and extracurriculars! He’s student body president!
People wanted to stay on Nathan’s good side, be his “friend” because if you were someone who he deemed valuable, you became untouchable. They’d all also seen how easily he could destroy someone’s reputation and sense of self. Students who ended up on the wrong side of Nathan were never the same again. He wielded both the power of popularity and fear. They were two sides of the same coin to him.
But his parents knew. Deep down. He scared them. The evidence was all around them: bloodied paper towels, smell of rot in the back shed, an unsettling look in Nathan’s eyes when he’d extend sympathies to the owners whose pets were recently found deceased after he’d helped them put up missing pet posters.
By the time they were willing to open their eyes to it, it was too late for them to try and save their kid. And eventually, too late for them to save themselves either.
#aftg#all for the game#nathan wesninski#neil josten#the butcher of Baltimore#idk man I feel like it’s so interesting for him to have been the start of the cycle of violence!!#just a true psychopath from childhood
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Daryl with a reader who loves nature?
He's always worrying about them getting attacked by a walker so he always goes with them. I don't really have a specific scenario I just think Daryl and a sweetheart nature loving reader would be so cute 🤭
Maybe they end their long day of adventuring by flopping down in bed and cuddling?
"𝙉𝘼𝙏𝙐𝙍𝙀𝙎 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀" | 𝘿.𝘿
𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: Daryl Dixon 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
Summary: You love Daryl, even if he is overprotective
𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨: none
A/N: KINDA SHORT? (sorry..)
Ever since a child, you had always been obsessed with the outdoors. instead of staying indoors and watching the TV with your family. it was outside in the nature, picking flowers and studying bugs.
and after the whole went to shit, you’d find comfort in that nature had stayed semi-the same. Daryl couldn’t say the same thing though.
Always worrying about you when ever you’d leave the walls. Mind racing with a million thoughts of you either getting bitten or never coming back, his biggest fear. he had it a habit of going with you whenever you felt cooped up. it was good for time to get out of Alexandria when he felt those same feelings.
it was also nice alone-time, something neither of you would get often. when outside the walls, you’d be picking flowers. or just staying in the forest listening to the sounds of moving trees, animals running away.
“is tha’ really necessary” Daryl had muttered for the fifth time it had felt like. “it is to me, Daryl. if you don’t like it…you can leave, no one forced you to be here” it wasn’t that you didn’t want him here. no you did.
it was that he kept stressing about you whenever you’d leave his sight for a split second. “..okay i am sorry’” you began looking at bugs once more, but again. you could feel his stare on you.
“Daryl…this is too much, go hunt squirrels or something. i don’t like feeling stared at” you hated being stared at, you were capable of taking care of yourself after all. “just taken’ care of ya’” you sighed “and i appreciate it, but i don’t need you too”
He stepped a few seconds away deeper into the forest before you said “Daryl, i love you” he only nodded and said it back, which made you happier than any time in nature could.
a few hours later, he trusted to leave you. and when he came back, you were still alive and well. the walk back with you is always nice, exchanging glances while you talked about the insect or new flower you saw.
and then, when you both walked inside. you flopped down onto your shared bed, and almost instantly fell asleep, cuddling your one true love.
-Summer
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Also, way too hungry for the bingo pls 🥺
masterlist bingo card
tw vampire whumper, vampire whumpee, multiple whumpees, semi-starvation, malnourishment, conditioning, torture mention
Days. Weeks. Helle had no idea when they'd last fed from a human. The thought was quite appetising, given they still had the scent of fresh human blood in their nose from the hunt earlier — the reality, well... less so.
Lady Marie never allowed them to feed on a live human. Aside from that one time on their very first hunt, they'd only ever been granted scraps; small animals and dead humans.
There were no drawbacks, not for her. She would get a moderately strong vampire, able to charm and talk their way into the largest of gatherings to grab the most delectable of humans. But to them, it was torture. Kept on the edge of malnourishment, almost sick, their head filled with cotton and whatever thoughts of food they could conjure.
Dead humans tasted vile, like goddamn acid. It was nothing like the sweet, sweet taste of fresh blood, the memory of which was growing more and more distant with each day. They could almost taste it, whenever they walked past a thrall in the corridors, or captured a new human to bring back. It was so tempting. So goddamn tempting.
They brushed past one such human on their way to the parlour, and they couldn't take it anymore. They grabbed the mindless thing and slammed him against the wall, fangs bared and ready to bite into his neck.
But someone grabbed their hair and yanked them away, eliciting a displeased whimper in response. The thrall barely reacted to any of it, merely resumed his journey to whatever part of the mansion he had business in. "The lady would flay you alive for such an offence," Nikolai said quietly, and Helle went limp in his hold.
"She has so many of them– these thralls," they whined. "Must I live on the blood of pigs and squirrels? When will she allow me to feed again? Actually feed?"
He let go of them and crossed his arms, and Helle felt like they were about to be scolded for being hungry. But as they looked into his eyes, they could see a surprising amount of empathy. "Never," he said softly. "Possibly. I cannot remember my last decent meal. And as far as I am aware, Isabella has given up hope in this matter."
Helle frowned, unable to comprehend such a heavy statement. "What? She cannot simply– that is–"
"It is well within her right as our sire, is what it is. I would advise against holding a grudge. It only makes the lashes sting more. But worry not, you will learn restraint and discipline, as we both already have." He nodded towards the end of the corridor. "Shall we? I assume we have all been summoned."
They nodded in a daze, but then ended up grabbing onto their sired brother's shirt to keep him just a moment longer. "Would the lady actually do that?" they whispered, their quiet voice full of terror. "Would she flay me?"
He glanced back at them, then quickly averted his eyes again. "I have made the very mistake you were about to." He paused, and Helle had a feeling that maybe the torture they had endured so far was in fact not the worst of it. "The lady would do a great many things to ensure we all abide by her rules. Now, let us not waste any more time. Perhaps I am wrong, and she will give us all an opportunity to earn ourselves a splendid dinner tonight."
As if. The words had no hope or reason behind them; they both knew Lady Marie probably just had some guests over and wanted to parade all three of them around for their entertainment. Helle's stomach rumbled loudly, and they placed a gentle hand on it, as though they were trying to calm a feral beast.
They weren't going to spend the rest of eternity so hungry. They were either going to get out of here, or die again trying.
~
taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @the-cyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm @whumpycries
#at my beck and call#whump#whump writing#helle#vampire whumper#vampire whumpee#multiple whumpees#malnourishment#conditioning#starvation#torture mention
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A Night of Song and Laughter (Part 4)
In which Tav and Astarion bicker a lot. It is their love language to piss each other off and then make up with kisses and sweet nothings - I'm convinced. It's all fun and games until someone ends up as a pile of ash, burned into the ground - am I right?
Thank you all so much for the love so far - I love seeing all the likes, reblogs and I eat up comments, thank you, sweethearts!
Song choice is "Kiss with a Fist" by Florence + The Machine for this one.
As always, you can also read this on AO3 - that and a few more parts already!
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)
(Gif from here!)
Astarion set you down on the top step of the staircase, grabbed you by the hips and spun you around until you faced away from him and gave you a little pat on the butt: “Go on, you know the way, dearest.”
You took another step to give Astarion enough space to come up the rest of the stairs behind you. Then you stopped and took in the much smaller area of the gallery. At the back wall was a much smaller bar and the only place you could get halfway decent drinks. No beer though, since the big kegs were way too heavy to carry up here. At the wall above it hung different instruments – lutes, flutes, violins. The inside joke was that these where instruments from bards and bands that… didn’t quite make the cut. But that was kind of an urban legend. Almost all the tables were filled. There only remained a few smaller bar tables at the pillars that slightly divided the area. You motioned to Astarion to go over to one of the bar tables.
You were only just telling him the myth about the instruments hanging on the wall which he listened to with an affectionate smile and one or two snide remarks about the cultural state of society, when you got jumped from behind.
Taken by surprise your survival instincts immediately kicked in, your hands immediately went to where your dagger would have been, had you brought it. You also felt Astarion tense next to you immediately getting into fighting stance. But you recognized the cackling giggle next to your pointy ear and as you turned your head slightly, you saw the face of a half-elf woman. “Lira, get off me, I’m not a monkey bar”, you said and tried to shake off the petite woman that clung to your back like a squirrel. “No, if I let go, I fear you might just disappear into thin air again”, she pouted and shook her head so her braid of thick black hair swung animatedly. You sighed desperately and tried twisting and turning to get her off your back. You heard Astarion quietly chuckle but saying nothing.
As you turned you also saw two different people standing behind you. A tall tiefling woman with dark red skin and even darker facial expression and a pretty young dwarf, at least judging by his rather short beard. “Oh hi, Miyena, Daegin”, you said while still trying to get the half-elf off your back. “Care to give me a hand?”, you asked them with an embarrassed half-smile. But the tiefling woman only raised an eyebrow at you, drew her long sleek ponytail of midnight blue hair over one shoulder and then crossed her slender arms over her chest; and the dwarf just shrugged.
“Alright, some friends you are”, you said and turned around to Astarion. But he just gave you an even more sassy impersonation of the reaction your tiefling friend had given you - dickhead.
“Ugh”, you made in desperation. Then you sighed: “Alright, I get it, I owe you some serious explanation, but how about we do that like civilized people: with everyone on the ground and a round of drinks. First round’s mine of course.” Everyone stared at you for a moment longer then the tiefling named Miyena spoke with a deep voice: “You’ll pay the whole evening and that’s not guaranteeing we’ll accept your explanation or a much needed apology.” At her words the half-elf started to climb of your back, went around you and hugged you deeply.
“Wheredidyougoweweresoworriedaboutyou”, she mumbled into your shoulder. You hugged her back and felt your body relax. They were right, you really did owe them an explanation – at least some of it – and an apology. Miyena and Daegin made to walk over to you and stand around the table. The tiefling still had her arms crossed and looked disapprovingly at Astarion: “Also, who in the Nine Hells is this? But uh” – she made and raised a single hand to silence you, when you were starting to talk – “firstly, you’ll get us some drinks. I’ll take something strong, you know what I like.” “Cherrywine”, Lira mumbled into your shoulder before finally letting go of you. “Ugh, Imma get myself a beer downstairs, you can pay me back later”, Daegin said and went off to head downstairs.
You looked at Astarion defeatedly waiting for his desired drink request but he was quick to put his hand on the small of your back and push you towards the bar: “I’ll help you, my dear, excuse us for a moment.” That earned him another disapproving onceover from Miyena while Lira just giggled and grinned at you knowingly.
Once you were out of earshot of the two, Astarion leaned over to say into your ear: “These are your friends? A chipmunk disguised as an half-elf, a dwarf barely old enough to buy a beer and a tiefling that I think would have smited right on the spot with her disapproving looks had she not been in public?” You heard the smile in his voice but you still felt insulted on their behalf. You slapped his shoulder: “You’re a twat sometimes, you know that?” He shrugged: “You knew I was bloody bastard from the very start, my love, so no news on that front.” You rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue at him before you said: “I guess you’re not completely wrong, this group is almost as dysfunctional as our little adventure troupe was. But that’s not even Miyena’s most disapproving reaction – for her that’s basically giving you a hug and offering you cookies and a hot milk. I’m pretty surprised.” At that the elf looked quite pleased, as he so easily was with flattery. “Well, I guess who could resist this magnificent face, am I right? Good to know I still got it in me after all”, he purred and fixed his white curls with one hand despite them not needing any fixing at all. “Am I joke to you?”, you said flabbergasted “Does my attraction to you not count, or…” “Of course, my love, but I’ve had you wrapped around my finger for so long now, I bet the sun could burn me to a pile of ash right this moment and you’d still sigh in admiration at me.” He chuckled, full of self-confidence – and also full of himself of course.
This arrogant ass. Did you think of him as your soulmate? You thought you’d might have to give that decision another consideration. In a split second decision you put the heel of your foot down in front of his feet and flipped the tip of your boot, so he tripped over it. He had his wicked roguish senses but you were a ranger and a former thief – so he fell. Right into the half-orc in front of him which caused a huge spillage of red wine. The massive creature turned around with a nasty growled and leveled a stare at the vampire who had only just caught his balance again. The half-orcs linen tunic was completely drenched in red liquid now. He glared at Astarion, very angrily. “Huh”, Astarion made in high-pitched voice “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, must have tripped over a crack” – he snarled the word, you snickered – “in the floorboard. I’m really terribly sorry, but really red is your colour, good sir, I hear the ladies are really into it this season.” The half-orc growled wordlessly again but seemed soothed and turned around again. How the hell had that worked? His silver tongue really worked wonders; also could raise hell as he had just experienced.
Astarion turned to you with a grimace with his fangs showing and hissed at you in a low voice: “Dick!” “Ass!”, you hissed back and stuck your tongue out at him again. “Maybe the next time you think before you make me jealous and take my love for granted”, you pouted. Astarion gave you sad puppy eyes: “How am I to blame when you just tell me that I have an endearing effect on the people around me, you know, I do love the attention. Can you possibly hold it against me?” Then he lifted one of his hands to your face and softly moved a strand of your reddish-brown hair behind your pointy ear: “And you know, I would never take a single thing about you for granted, my love, never.” You were immediately charmed by his genuine tone and soft look in his ruby eyes. You smiled and…
“By the gods, passing through!”, a man pushed through the two of you and the affectionate scene, quite obviously annoyed by the two of you blocking the way to the bar for so long. “For all our sakes, get a room and make some goddamn space for the rest of us”, he grumbled while he stomped past you and Astarion.
„So rude“, you mouthed to Astarion. “Totally”, he mouthed back and dramatically rolled his eyes and then smirked before motioning for you to keep walking.
“Still”, you said and pointed a finger at the elf’s face as you were waiting at the bar to order “if you try and chat up and flirt with my friends while I’m right there, you’ll wish the sun had burned you into the ground long ago, Astarion.” You glare at him, half teasingly, half in earnest. He raised his hands in mock surrender: “I will try and be as monogamous as I can be, my sweet darling, but flirting is like breathing to me.” You pouted at his mocking until he sighed: “I was just joking, love, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” “Apology accepted”, you answered immediately and gave him a peck on the nose before you turned to order.
With two cherry wines for Lira and yourself, a dark, dry red wine for Astarion and a strong herbal spirit for Miyena, the two of you return to the table. Daegin was already sipping from a giant mug of dark beer. You threw him a gold coin for his drink, then handed out the drinks around the table. The other three had already taken up the conversation without you and Astarion and for a few minutes both of you just sipped on your drinks and listened contentedly. The tiefling kept looking at Astarion openly, not even trying to hide her curiosity. Then topics shifted to you, your dis- and reappearance and your mysterious new acquaintance again.
“I guess, it’s time you introduce us to your mysterious beau here, Tav”, Miyena said with her dark voice and eyed your companion again. Now, you almost thought there was something hungry in her stare. You saw Astarion smirk at your friend’s display of interest, but you could tell he was starting to feel uneasy by her attention when he tensed next to you and threw you a short look. He cleared his throat – a clear sign of his nervousness as you’d come to know – and spoke before you could beat him to it: “Well, my name is Astarion and I met your wonderful friend, Tav, when I was adventuring out in the countryside. She saved me, more than once, and well, first we became travel companions and then… so much more. And well now, we are both happy to be back in our hometown, aren’t we, darling?” You took his other hand that was not currently holding a glass of wine and squeezed it gently in reassurance. The intonation on the words “she saved me” hadn’t been lost on you. He squeezed your hand back, while you took up his story. Over the table Miyena slightly narrowed her eyes at the two of you, she obviously suspected you weren’t telling the whole story. But she said nothing for the time being and let the conversation go on.
The two of you told them of select parts of your adventure, agreeing on parts to be left out without needing to speak about it. Astarion relaxed and started enjoying himself telling stories and making quips about you and your adventures together. You told them about the ogre and the bugbear you happened upon, about vicious gnolls and an exhausting hike trough the mountain pass. You felt your heart fill with warmth at being with your friends again and them enjoying your and Astarion’s company. And your heart filled with even more love seeing Astarion being so open and relaxed, just being himself, making Daegin laugh at his jokes and Lira gasp at his overly dramatic retellings. Only Miyena had become awfully silent, her frown growing with every touch, look and smile you and Astarion exchanged. But you didn’t mind, tonight you wouldn’t let your night be ruined by her grumpy act.
All of you were well into your third round of drinks, when Daegin suddenly stopped, threw up his beer mug and screamed. He was already pretty drunk so his drink sloshed everywhere, a big gulp only missing you because you still had the wits about you to dodge in time. The dwarf waved enthusiastically at someone behind you, he almost fell off the stool he’d organised for himself.
“Eodin, Eodin! Come here, you wouldn’t believe what the cat dragged in”, Daegin yelled. You turned and sure as the sun would rise tomorrow morning, there he was at the top of the stairs: Eodin. You quickly turned back around pretending you hadn’t seen him. You lifted your hand to the side of your face to keep him out of your field of view for as long as possible. Panic filled your eyes as you looked at Astarion, who grinned at you sneeringly, placed his elbow on the table and then his chin on his hand: “Where’s the sun to burn you into the ground if you need it, darling, am I right?”
#astarion#astarion x tav#baldurs gate#baldurs gate 3#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate iii#astarion x reader#astarion x mc#baldurs gate astarion#astarion x oc#astarion x you#fanfic#fanfiction#astarion ancunin#bg3 spoilers#astarion is so cute when he's annoyed#aww that his silver tongue get astarion into trouble?#they love each other so much#a night of song and laughter
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