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devnmon · 6 months

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The Staring Contest // D.D.

Summary: Daryl tries to convince you to rest in bed with him, but when you refuse, he finds another way to try and convince you.

Warnings: suggestive content, 18+ | wc: 2.5k

Daryl was bent over his bike in the garage of your shared home, tightening a bolt on his bike for what seemed like the 10th time of the day. He hadn’t realized time passed as swiftly as it had, noticing the light from outside had dwindled down to darkness.

There were two things Daryl looked forward to when the day came to an end: relaxing for the night, and falling asleep next to you.

His fatigue from working throughout the hours only sparked one thought: where the hell were you?

All desire to finish tinkering on his bike washed from his muscles. Finding you in the home you two shared was the only thing he could think about now.

His tools clinked together as he shoved them away in a random drawer of the workbench he’d been using, before turning to leave the garage.

It was nighttime, which meant you wouldn’t have watch shifts or be caught up doing anything else around the community for the rest of the night. Daryl wondered what kept you away from him for so long, recalling the very moments you’d search for him endlessly on days you were apart for even more than an hour. He knew in his heart, no matter how long each of you spent separated, that you never stopped thought about him throughout the day. His earth-like scent, and the way your skin littered with goosebumps every time he was in the room was so familiar and safe.

I keep you in the front of my mind, always, you've told him before.

Daryl sauntered into the kitchen, immediately spotting you at the table, nose stuffed in a textbook. His steps were silent as always, which was normal for Daryl. On a day to day basis, he was able to enter a room silently and unnoticed, unless he made it known.

But somehow, you always knew when he was around.

“Hi, Dare,” you spoke, without looking back at him.

"Oh, hey, sunshine. What's gotcha down here this late?"

“Just trying to memorize what we need for the garden, so I can help Maggie tomorrow. Wanna know these by heart so I don't have to keep looking back in here. Ugh... this small text is giving me a headache already…”

You didn't have to turn around to know Daryl was right behind you. His voice drifted, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, sensing him step closer to you.

You gasped lightly at Daryl’s presence surrounding you, his warm breath brushing the back of your neck.

“My girl,” he whispered in your ear, “Smartest in the whole world. D'ya know that's so sexy t'me?”

A chill ran up your spine from his gravel tone of voice. It was intoxicating, almost enough to pull your thoughts away from the very interesting plant content.

“Daryl, you’re distracting me.” you chuckled, still staring down at the textbook in front of you.

“Mm.. why don’tcha drop that book an’ come t’bed with me.. It's late, babe.”

“Cause if I don’t know this information, our crops won’t do as well and-”

Your breath hitched as his hands had traveled up your back, massaging your shoulders, thumbs pressing into your stiff muscles.

“Yer tense..” he picked up the soft sigh you let out, and continued, “Like that?”

You sighed, “Yeah… takes the stress out of memorizing all these facts just a little bit.”

Daryl could feel the heat rushing over your skin in waves, realizing so obviously that he was the cause of it.

“I could help ya take out more’a that tension. Happen t’know a few ways, babe..” he pressed a kiss behind your ear, beard hairs tickling your skin.

“N-No.. no, I can’t. I’ve gotta be at Maggie’s early to help her and.." his hands continued, "Oh god that feels good, keep going..”

In your train of thought, you’d forgotten how firm Daryl’s hands were; how they could always bring you pleasure, no matter how he did it. The paired silence between you two continued for a few minutes with his hands and fingers firmly pressing into your back, until his southern drawl broke the silence, focus breaking once he realized your attention wasn’t pivoting from the book.

“Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but I’m gettin’ jealous of yer damn book right 'bout now.”

Finally looking up from the pages beneath your eyes, you chuckled. The obvious boyish smirk on your boyfriend’s face was evident as you turned your head.

“You’re telling me you're getting jealous over some plants? I hate to break it to you, but I’m not sure anything in this world gets to take your place.” You stated, almost turning back to the book for a second, before cupping his cheek to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“You gon’ lose sleep over this? Some silly plants?” He murmured, close enough for you to hear him.

“Hey!” you poked at his chest lightly, “Those silly plants are what’s gonna help Alexandria and Hilltop thrive. It’s not my fault I was blessed with a green thumb. Now, can you please go get some rest? For me?”

He shook his head lightly, scrunching his nose at the idea of not having your full attention. Daryl knew what you were doing for the community was important. He knew that.

But maybe in those end-of-day moments of alone time with you, was when he decided to be selfish.

His intimate time with you was one of his favorite times of day; lips pressed to some part of your body in absolute worship, even if there would be a mark the next morning. Perhaps in favor of a mark being there.

“Nah. Nothin’ better than watchin’ my girl be a genius. Even if I’ll be damn tired t’morrow.” The slight groan in his voice hints towards the fact that he’s probably, definitely been up for way too long hunting and running around Alexandria all day. Straining all those precious muscles of his.

“You’re cute when you're being stubborn. You need to get some rest, too. Can’t have those bags under your pretty eyes.”

“Oh, my eyes’re pretty, now? Saw you avoidin’ em when you kissed me b'fore. Tha’s how I know ya get distracted when ya look at me..”

Of course you got distracted looking at him. He was so perfectly Daryl with that mop of wavy brown hair, piercing eyes that shone as the sea does, and his rugged figure.

“Tell ya what, you win a starin’ contest with me, an’ I’ll go to bed so you can study. But if I win, you gotta drop the books an’ come to bed with me.”

It was then Daryl’s hands left your shoulders, thus your aches returned. He took a seat backwards on a chair across from where you sat you, while you glanced up at him.

“Now Daryl, you’re just being silly. What are we, teenagers?”

Being around you certainly made Daryl feel like a teenager, even in his aged life, which brought a smile to your face.

“If ya don’t wanna see my eyes, jus’ keep starin at that book, I guess.”

You scoffed under your breath, still staring at the book. Only his soft breathing could be heard from across the table. He could’ve sworn you were blushing, but your head was tilted downwards too much to be certain.

“Look at me, sunshine,” he drawled, while you sat too flustered to face him, “C’mon..”

Your eyes trailed up the leather on Daryl's figure, then the tips of his brown hair, the scar across his left cheek, meeting his blues softly. He’d registered the rose tint on the apples of your cheeks immediately afterward.

"Mhm.. So, staring contest?” he lowered his head, making sure you kept eye contact with him.

“I don’t get what the point of this is…” you replied pointedly, shaking your head, a bit amused with the whole thing.

“Point is… ya do this with me or else I’m gonna drag your butt upstairs to bed."

“What’re you gonna do if I refuse?”

You knew Daryl was absolutely capable of carrying you upstairs. There was no doubt about it, he was strong enough to lift you and it wouldn't take much effort on his part.

"When's the last time you weren't workin' yourself overtime for this place, huh? I think you're the one who deserves rest, sunshine." His arms crossed against his chest, muscles practically bulging from under the cloth of his shirt.

"So do you, Daryl. You're just too stubborn to admit it."

The archer sat in silence for a moment, knowing you were right, putting up a stubborn front.

"Fine. I'll participate in your little staring contest. What happens when I win, again?" You both know what'll happen, and Daryl scoffs.

Placing the book down in front of you, your arms rest on the table and he leans in a little further. His scent of pine surrounds your senses, faltering your gaze from him for a minute.

"This ain't gonna work if you don't look at me, sweetheart." It's like you can hear the shit eating grin on his face, and when you look up again, it seemed you were right.

"Let's get this on with, shall we? First one that blinks, loses." You tilt your head in the same fashion as his, lowering your voice a bit.

"Gladly. Ready whenever you are, sunshine." Daryl's drawl had gone from his normal volume to a gravel one. You can tell he tried to throw you off track with it, but nonetheless, the staring contest was on.

Your eyes met his, deep and dark in the lighting. How did everything about him compliment those damn irises of his? Just one glimpse of his gorgeous aura from across the table had you pulling away from your book for more.

"You're infuriating, you know that?" Your nose scrunches as the words come out in almost a whisper, delicate with the way you're letting your thoughts drift from just his eyes.

"Hun, you're not much better. Gorgeous, but stubborn as all hell. Think ya might be more stubborn than me." You hear the chuckle, and it takes almost all of your stamina not to steal a glance at his lips. If you did, there was no way you'd be able to contain your eyelids.

You know exactly what he's doing, playing on the way you melt at his every compliment. But you focus on his eyes and what you can see of him in your peripherals. His broad shoulders are scrunched, eyes studying your face.

"Are you trying to intimidate me? Cause it's not going to work.."

"Dunno, think I have a couple ways. You jus' keep on starin' at me."

You huffed a breath and continued looking into Daryl's eyes. He was intimidating enough that you had to find other things to think about rather than his. Because they were so... tantalizing. Electrifying. A simple glance of his would usually bring you, figuratively yet literally, to your knees. Ones that were met from across courtyards of Alexandria, or from the corner of a room during a community meeting. How you were able to hold off on crumbling under that same look now? You had no clue.

To your concern, you hadn't realized the falling of your mind into such deep thoughts about the archer. Your eyes focused back on the wisp of his eyelashes, before realizing his bottom lip was caught between his teeth. Giving his features a once-over, you peeked at the corner of his mouth twitching upwards.

"Are you smirking?" Your arms folded across the table and inched closer to him.

"What else am I supposed t'do? You're too pretty. Happens when I look at’cha for a long time." His elbows propped up his chin in those rough palms of his, and began inching closer as well.

“Speak for yourself, handsome.” It was almost a whisper, but still the tones of your voice caught him off guard. Daryl’s eyes dropped from yours, swiftly to your lips and back up.

“Wish you’d just let me win so I could kiss ya right now.” His deft fingers tapped on the wooden table now, eyelids heavy with impatience and a sultry gaze being shot your way. You want him to lean towards you, within just the proximity to plant your lips on his, but he sits back in his chair instead.

You whisper, “You make me wanna go back to my books and leave you hanging on this damn contest.”

Daryl shrugs, “Ya blink, ya lose. Them’s the rules.”

“I’m not breaking.. do with that what you will, pretty boy.”

“Mhm..." Daryl chuckled to himself for a moment, then stood from his seat. Whatever composure you were trying to keep from showing while gazing at him only overwhelmed you as he rose from the table. No matter how hard he tried, Daryl came off as intimidating, especially when he stood over you, like he was doing right now.

"We're having a contest here.." you began, "Or does you leaving the table mean you forfeit?"

Daryl's fingers dragged along the table, slowly stepping towards you with the same intimidating glare.

"Nope." He stepped behind you, grabbing your chair with both hands to pull it out from the table.

"Daryl- what're you doing?" You giggled, letting the book of plants fall onto the floor, while you were dragged backwards by Daryl's strength.

"If you're not gonna let me win, I'm just gonna have to take you myself." let go of the chair, and immediately knelt down to grasp your body from your seat.

"Hey!" Daryl's large, warm hands grasped your body, while you wrapped your hands around him in surprise. Upon your hands grasping at him, he got a face full of your chest, which he didn't mind at all.

Grunting at your weight in his arms, you turned to him, spotting the faint blush on his cheeks at the view he was currently getting. You chuckled, getting flustered yourself, but still pressed against him. He began towards the stairs, with you easily grasped in his arms. It was during these rare moments that you realized just how strong Daryl was, how easily he could pick you up and carry you without breaking a sweat.

"This what you're gonna do every time you can't convince me?" Your arms wrapped around his neck now, watching his face while he walked. You pressed a few light kisses to his neck in response.

"Nah, I'll let ya win sometimes. But this, you're gonna wanna be there for." The smirk on his face created a warm feeling inside your chest, one you wanted to give him, too.

Daryl continued up the stairs, down the hall towards the bedroom you shared with him. Your arms wrapped around the nape of Daryl's neck, lips peppering kisses across the expanses of his chest. Once he'd walked to the bedroom door, he kicked it open and made his way towards the bed.

He softly placed you down on the edge of the mattress, waving you to lay back on the bed with his hand. Daryl kicked off his boots, undoing his belt before crawling towards you on the duvet.

In a moment he hovered over you, smirk lingering on his lips like liquor.

"Now, I dare ya, take your eyes off me. See what happens."

You were in for an especially long night.

A/N: Thanks for reading:) If you enjoyed this fic, please show support by reblogging!

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devnmon · 3 days

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too sweet. || a.m.

a/n: heyy ok i know you guys have probably seen enough of the fics with hozier songs but i also love him and when i heard this track the minute it was released, i was like oh yeah this is arthur morgan core. if ur bothered by me writing this then i say that is simply your problem ngl. in the case that you are reading this, it's just a silly little blurb that sums up arthur morgan in the eyes of the song too sweet by hozier !

wc: 632 | warnings: mentions of smut (that's all)

Arthur Morgan was never an early bird. In fact he despised it. Most times he did was only during a hunt, when he woke smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze. You– you were different; completely rising before the sun rose like clockwork. While you always told him never to stay up till the sunrise, he did, arrogantly, anyways.

He was amazed at how you were so easily able to exist in a world that fought against you– not only in the gang, but as a woman. Drunk on life you seemed to be, Arthur would say, while he took his whiskey neat. In his bed at 3am many nights, he took pride in getting to lay next to you when the slower moments came to pass.

You kissed him in the early mornings when you rose, lips still tasting of the previous night's wine. The sweet morning greeting of your lips had him praying for you to lay with him longer. Arthur was lovesick and kept you wherever he went; whether that meant drawings of your from across camp, or your name written with a heart next to his on a different page. On the off chance he gets back to camp early in the mornings before you wake, he leaves you the most exquisite trinkets for you to remember him by.

It's not often he must stay out of camp for longer than a couple days, but when he does, he returns with a heartfelt apology that takes place in your shared bedroll, begging you to accept his apology with every praise. Your touch has been ingrained into his mind, body. and soul, and yet– it burns his skin every time. Each press of your lips and swipe of your tongue over his skin.

He's so goddamned lucky you've let him at your body long enough to know how well his melds with yours like putty. You're the cream he voids from his coffee– because you're too sweet for him. You're too sweet with your sweet lips like heaven's gate, and Arthur is marveled at how you let him of all men kiss you.

The natural beauty you walked around with every day made Arthur seethe with envy at the fact that other men would gaze upon what was his. Most times when you clock his jealous stares and frustrated grunts, it's instinct when you immediately reassure him that you're not going anywhere.

His frustration is released among his true aim towards the spots on your body that make you mewl and call out his name like a mantra. It boosts his ego through the roof like a rocket when you respond and intertwine your soul even more with his.

When he's free from the constant back and forth from camp and jobs, there's a rare moment where Arthur dedicates two or three days to only you. He whisks you away to an expensive hotel, and uses his every power to bring you a new kind of ecstasy when he shares the bed with you. Arthur never wants you to think he doesn't have time to spend on you; he proves that any moment he can.

At that point, he'd gladly die between your thighs just to hear the wanton noises of carnal desire you feel for him and only him. He's seen so much pain in the world, that he's astonished someone like you can be beautiful and perfect so naturally.

You're the sun he wakes to every morning, the contrast of the heat during the cool rainy nights. As sweet as wine and the grapes it has been made from; he'd wait forever to taste your kiss again as long as you were there to ease the aches and pains.

Until then... he'll take his whiskey neat.

#ryesff #devnmonwrites #devnmon writes #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan blurb #rdr2 fandom #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fanfiction

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devnmon · 1 year

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You Deserve the World

Originally written by @avanatural; credit to her for the idea and inspiring me as well.

Summary: Daryl's been insecure about his age starting to show, and is worried he'll lose you. You show him every way he won't.

warnings: comfort, (a lil angst), fluff, implied smut.

wc: 3.4k

Daryl's back ached.

He slid the bow from his back and dropped it onto a wooden side table, letting it clatter loudly. His vest was the next thing pulled off his body, left on the chair beside his bow. Unbuttoning his shirt, the cotton tightened around his biceps, until he finally ripped it from his torso and left the shirt on the ground behind him.

Now freed from the confines of his tight clothing, his arms stretched out, muscles flexing in the process. Daryl glanced around the room per usual, until his eyes came across the mirror in the corner of your room. Slowly, he sauntered towards it, pushing his shoulders down as he approached.

The archer studied himself intently. All of his features remained as they were - same cerulean eyes, distinctive birthmarks, scar crossing over his left eyebrow and part of his cheek, and his rounded nose. Daryl couldn't help the fact of time passing, and he definitely couldn't help the fact that aging was catching up with him. A few new lines on his face became more prominent, and the bags under his eyes from minimal sleep only bore into him further.

He tried to force a smile, but stopped before the realization of wrinkles and other lines made him even more self-conscious. Daryl grunted to himself, before running a hand through the tousled hickory of his hair. Sunlight hit the crown of his head, illuminating its unwashed state, along with the few grey hairs that managed to show themselves. The hairs of his beard were the first on him to become grey without him knowing.

Aging was an aspect of life he couldn't get used to. He didn't want to get used to it either. Though it was only a part of growing older with time. Not only did he grow accustomed to working out more often in order to stay on top of his game, but his hunting agility was having a lower success rate each time he was out there.

On the contrary, he'd been worried about keeping up with his partner.

You, the one of his dreams. If his aging continued at the rate it began, he was worried that you'd grow tired of his older features and desire someone younger than him. Someone better than him.

Daryl knew you were popular amongst the men of Alexandria, those better options only poking at the back of his throat as if it were bile waiting to give. Being in a constant state of hyperawareness whenever you two were out in the community had exhausted him to his core.

Every time one of Deanna's sons or any of the other guys in the community even caught a glance of you from across the courtyard, Daryl wanted to pummel them into the ground, but push you into their arms from his all the same.

Although Daryl felt this way, he realized the strength of your bond with him went deeper than just physical attraction. The two of you cared deeply for one another, and you always tried to clear his mind of any negative thoughts.

You're enough the way you are, my love. I don't want you any other way than that.

With a deep breath, Daryl decided to push the nagging thoughts from his mind and trudge over to the dresser. He fidgeted with the button of his jeans, pulling them off his legs and ending up next to the shirt he'd tossed as well.

There was conveniently another mirror in the corner, one that took the full image of him into account. It was noticeable to him when he'd noticed movement from out of his peripheral vision. It would have only taken a glance to the left before seeing his figure in full length. Stood in only a pair of boxers, his hands sifted through one of the dresser drawers, pulling out a pair of black jeans. A glance downward at his body stopped his movements, and the pair of pants fell from his grip.

Despite everything telling him not to, his eyes drifted to the left. Once the full image of him in the mirror hit his eyes, the disgusting thoughts he had a moment before busted down the door in his mind. Daryl stepped in front of the mirror, jeans left on the dresser.

Cerulean eyes raked over every inch of his body as harmful thoughts flooded his head again. His thighs weren't as taught as they once were, his pecs weren’t as defined. His fingertips grazed over the expanse of his belly, where some scars lay not as prominent as others. Eyebrows furrowed and a scowl made its way onto his face.

His partner was perfect to him, and he wanted to be perfect to them, too.

As if you'd read his mind, you came walking into the room, same smile on your face that made Daryl want to live forever. He hadn't noticed you at first, standing against the doorway. You tilted your head to the side, taking in the view of him in only boxers, hands tracing his stomach.

"Checking yourself out?" you chuckled softly, picking up a book on a dresser near the door.

Daryl's eyes locked on his reflection, his button nose scrunching up.

When he didn't reply with one of his quips or side comments like you were expecting, you took notice of the furrowed eyebrows and slouched state.

You'd noticed something different in Daryl these days. One look at the displeasure on his face, and you realized something was up. More solo hunts, fewer intimate moments in the bedroom.

Daryl, of all people, was insecure about how he looked.

Your lip caught between your teeth, dropping the book back onto the dresser. "Daryl, are you alright?" Shuffling over to him, you placed a hand on his shoulder. The contact made his muscles flex, the warmth of your palm against him growing his enamor for you.

Daryl sighed, knowing he'd been brushing you off every time you asked him if he was okay. His avoidance level had dwindled down to nothing, not wanting to push you away any more than he already had. You were his person, the one he could always confide in, and you listened every single time.

"Do you- Do you think I'm gettin' old?" he questioned under his breath, eyes still unwavering from the mirror.

Your chest tightened at the mere suggestion of his aging. To you, Daryl was the most perfect anyone could ever be- his aura, his personality, his appearance, his quips, even his idiosyncrasies, but most of all, his heart.

"No, I don't," you replied honestly, "You been thinkin' about that a lot, huh?"

Daryl's shoulders stiffened as he finally ripped his eyes away from the view of the mirror, turning completely to face you. Reaching out to cup his cheek in a loving touch, he leaned into it and closed his eyes.

"What made you think about that?" you inquired, letting go of his cheek and trailing your fingers over the soft hairs that adorned his face.

Daryl's eyes opened again, lines on his face reappearing in the furrowed state of his eyebrows. "I know the way those pricks in the town look at ya.. Younger guys."

Your gaze shifted back and forth from his sapphire eyes, the realization hitting you. "Is this about Spencer?"

When you'd first gotten to Alexandria, your relationship with Daryl was just beginning. You hadn't told the rest of your group about it yet, but from the first time you saw the older Monroe, he had his eye on you. He'd admittedly been attractive to you at first, but he had absolutely nothing on your Daryl.

Spencer had pulled you aside the night of Deanna's party, asking you questions about yourself and wanting to get to know you better. His motives seemed innocent but there was a slight glint of mischief in his eye. When he suggested something more perverted, you knew he only saw you as a one night stand and nothing more. You explained to him that you weren't interested, on account of being taken by a different, better man.

Spencer Monroe could never compare to Daryl Dixon.

"He didn't want me like you want me. I could never want that asshole, and I don't." If Daryl knew the things Spencer said about him after you told him you were taken, he would have pummeled his face into the ground.

"I'm way older than you," Daryl mumbled, "One day ya might wanna take him up on that, or any of 'em."

"You really think I want them? That they're better than you?" you questioned, your hand grabbing his.

"Don't ya think so?"

You scoffed, "What could any one of them give me? I know for a fact that they couldn't be as good to me as you are. I'm a damn lucky person to have you. I scored you, Daryl Dixon. Not the other way around. You always had my back, every time I've needed you."

"'Course I do, an' you always got mine, too. I jus' don't see why," He shook his head, "You don't gotta settle for me-"

"You know what? Enough, look into the mirror right here," you stated, grasping his shoulders and turning him to see his figure. "Let's start with your shoulders." You gave them a slight squeeze, flesh emerging from between your fingers. "They're so big and broad, and I'm obsessed with them."

Your statement made a corner of Daryl's mouth jolt upwards, forming just the tiniest bit of smile on his face. His mind brought him back to the memories of you gripping them when intertwined in a hug or kiss, but especially when you were making love.

You shuffled to stand next to him, affectionately running your fingers down his thick forearm. Meeting his eyes in the mirror, you took his hand in yours. "These hands and arms of yours are so strong, especially when you're holding me close, when you touch me. You know I appreciate how handy you are, especially when you're using that crossbow of yours, and working on your bike or cars."

Daryl hummed, intertwining his fingers with yours.

Smiling at his reflection, you continued, "I adore your stomach, know that? You're all muscle and firm where it matters most, but the softness of your stomach doesn't compare to the rest of you. I find that so incredibly sexy, know that?"

"Ya really like that?" Daryl questioned with disbelief, locking his eyes with yours in the reflection.

You nodded, leaning your cheek against his arm before placing a soft kiss on his bicep. "Yeah, I do." You already knew the tension in his body was starting to dissipate. "You wanna know what else I think?"

"Mhm," He replied almost instantly. Daryl felt selfish asking for your compliments, but he knew you'd give them to him every time he asked. It was simply too fulfilling to pass up.

"Your thighs are perfect, and they're such a strong part of you. I love sitting on them in your lap. And this?" You dropped his hand from yours, sliding it behind him to lightly squeeze his butt. He jolted slightly at the contact and smirked. "This is firm and so cute. A lot perkier than mine, too."

Daryl opened his mouth to speak, but your hands began to play with the hem of his boxers near his crotch, silencing him. "I assume this morning is a good example of what I think about this?"

His smirk widened, filling him with satisfaction of the fact that he could still make you feel good in bed.

"Don't even get me started on your pretty face," You shifted, cupping his cheeks with your hands again. Your eyes trailed over his face, taking in his intoxicating features. "Your eyes are so deep, like the ocean. When you look at me, I forget what I'm going to say most times."

Daryl shifted closer, purposely to make you flustered. His eyes met yours in the playful way he'd done a thousand times before, and you recognized the expression immediately.

"Don't do that to me now.." You said, rolling your eyes.

A hearty chuckle erupted from him at your flustered state, wrinkles around his eyes emerging once again.

"Your lips are so damn tempting, pretty and pink like they were made for mine," you went on, "You have perfect teeth and whenever you smile at me, my heart jumps a mile high. I'm also jealous of your birthmark, and how it gets to go everywhere with you on that handsome face of yours. But this..." you took a moment to run your hands along the wispy hairs of his chin and jaw, "is my favorite thing to feel when we kiss."

"Oh, really?" He questioned, that signature smirk of his growing inch by inch, "Guess I better kiss ya more often."

You beamed at his words, a blush rushing onto your cheeks as you let go of his face. "I'm such a lucky woman to have you, such an attractive man, by my side. You say guys notice me, but you aren't aware of just how many women practically drool over you when you're around the town. Warms my heart and makes me jealous at the same time," you confessed.

Daryl's head tilted to the side, "You got nothin' to worry about, sunshine."

"Well, neither do you, got that?"

He sighed, meeting your gaze with enamor filled eyes, another smirk tugging at his lips, "Yes, ma'am."

Daryl leaned down to your face and attached his lips to yours. His kiss was soft and slow, a low hum escaping you. His toned arms surrounded your waist, pulling you in close to his chest.

Your hands flew up around his neck, toying with the long strands, "I'm obsessed with your hair, too." You told him after pulling back from the kiss.

His grasp only tightened around you, arms flexing around your waist, bodies pressed together. Your foreheads slightly touched as you talked quietly.

"I gotta few gray hairs..." He retorted, those large hands of his snaking behind to your lower back.

"Yes.. and? You'd look so hot with gray hair."

"You sayin' ya wanna grow old with me, hun?" He inquired, hands squeezing around your butt now.

You grinned up at him through your lashes, "Of course. That is, if we live long enough to do so."

Daryl sighed, "Sounds good to me, darlin'. Now, I believe you were talkin' about my hair.."

You took the opening to run your hands through his bangs, pushing back the strands of hair that framed his face. "I love your long hair, It's so pretty and wavy, for a man like you. I'd love to braid it sometime, if you'd let me. Don't think a guy like Spencer could pull it off as well as you do."

"You love playin' with my hair, don't ya?" He questioned, voice lowering. His large palms rested comfortably on your behind. Daryl enjoyed touching your butt, even when it wasn't in a sexual way. Because of you, he craved intimacy in its most raw form, and with you, it came even easier.

"Absolutely," you responded, taking away what little distance was left between them and rejoining your lips with his. Daryl picked up on the change in tension between you two and grasped at your behind a lot firmer than before, using his strong grip to push his crotch against yours.

You mewled into his mouth when she felt the tent in his boxers against you, but you weren't done yet. You placed your hands on his broad chest, and pulled back.

"You okay?" Daryl asked, eyes darkened with lust.

Your fingers found the tattoos on his chest, the heart and other small ones littered across his collarbones. "I have more to say, that's all."

"An' what's that?"

"Your body isn't the only thing about you that makes me crazy for you."

The thought of you worrying about him in this state made his heart race, since he hadn't been thinking very highly of himself. The truth was, Daryl had been thinking that way his entire life, and couldn't help it. Brought up by people who only put him down and made him think so little of himself, he weighed his decisions with every one he made. When he met you, though, was the first time in his life he'd witnessed genuine love and support. You managed to bring him back from those moments every single time he got trapped in one.

You knew he deserved to be loved the way he was, with nothing standing in the way between you and his true self. In this world, he deserved to be given the same amount of love and support that Daryl gave to everyone in the community.

Just hearing about what you thought of him, in every way possible, kept him going in the darkest of times.

"Daryl, there's never been anyone in my life like you, you're so good to me," you said, tone in your voice filled with disbelief. "You think anyone else could treat me the same way you do? Those pricks only want to get in my pants, and dropped me like a fly when they realized I wasn't interested. But you, you became my best friend before anything. You became the one person in my life who knew me. Like, really knew me. And then I just.. fell for you in the process. I'm the luckiest person in the world to have you."

You could've sworn a blush crept its way onto his cheeks, but he dropped his head before you could see better. Two of your fingers looped under his chin and lifted it again. "Don't ever hang your head, Daryl Dixon. You are the best man I know. I've never met anybody as caring as you. I see it in everything you do, the way you care about Rick, about that little girl, Jude? It warms my heart to see. You deserve the world, Daryl."

Daryl knew every word out of your mouth was true. He knew you would never lie to him, and even then, you were terrible at it. The minute you got lost in his ocean eyes, every little fib crumbled to nothing. Like all things, Daryl was better at expressing himself with actions, and not many words. He pulled you into another kiss, and it took your breath away. His strong arms hooked under your thighs, scooping your body up into his arms. A squeal threatened to leave your chest, but it only got swallowed by the archer's lips on yours.

Without restraint, he carried you over to your bed, one you both shared on many occasions, letting his weight fall back on top of it. You giggled as you landed on top of him, taking his pretty face into your hands again and slipped your lips between his. He groaned, hands attaching to your waist as you attempted to deepen the kiss.

Daryl slid his tongue across your bottom lip, making you moan into his kiss. In response, he opened his mouth to you, tongue gliding across yours with desire. A moment passed before Daryl pushed you over onto the bed, now hovering over you.

All the kissing made you hot, and pretty soon your hands were clawing at Daryl's boxers, chuckling at you as he pushed them down his legs, leaving him bare between you both.

"Hey, now. Tha's not fair at all, is it?" Daryl questioned, very upset with the fact that you couldn't be more clothed. His hands immediately went for your shirt, tugging it over your head. Your pants and underwear followed, placing hungry kisses along the expanses of your skin. There was something different about Daryl now, he hadn't resumed the usual acts of self-consciousness he had recently been taking part in.

Though his hand reached out to turn the lamp in your room off, he felt a restraint when his fingers met the button. Since the days of his insecurities, he felt safe in the darkness while making love to you. It meant security, and kept him from the nervousness that came with the thought of being judged by you.

But now, he didn't have a reason to hide anything from you anymore. His hand resumed his loving touches on your skin. You loved all of him, every single part. There wasn't anything luckier than that.

"How 'bout I leave this on?" he declared, locking his eyes with yours.

"I'd like that."

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon/you #daryl dixon & reader #daryl dixon the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #twd fanfic #ryesff #devnmon writes #devnmonwrites #daryl x you #daryl dixon x female reader #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon x y/n

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devnmon · 9 months

Text

Hidden Comforts (Under the Covers)

Summary: Winter in the prison keeps Daryl awake for days, and it seems his only solution for rest is seeking you out in the dead of night.

a/n: yep. it’s me, devnmon, writing yet another daryl fic after months of not writing. here’s one of my favorite trope(s), tweaked a bit for the likes of this fic: the one bed trope. lots of cute pining from both sides, shyness and uncertainty for the like of the masses. i hope u guys will survive as this is the softest shit i’ve ever fucking wrote. enjoy <3 [credit 2 cafekitsune for dividers]

warnings: none

wc: 2k

Windows froze solid shook against the wind and ice raining down from the sky, along with inches upon inches of snow to make the prison courtyard a white frontier. The only thing this kind of weather helped was depleting the amount of walkers around, ones who hadn’t frozen solid against a tree or upright in the ice.

Among the cold walls of the prison, a shiver of slight wind continuously fled through the building. There were god knows how many cracks in the foundation, windows that were void of panes, not to mention the ginormous hole in one of the halls that had been sealed off from the otherwise livable quarters. All the rebuilding of your home, yet the frigid temperatures persisted.

It was cold enough outside, your group couldn’t help the breeze finding its way in above all they’ve done to patch the place up. There was no way of setting a fire for just a smidge of warmth, either. So, the remaining members of your group were left to the clothes on their backs, and whatever they’d scavenged from the cells to help fend off the frozen temperatures.

Outside, the wind rapped against windows and a shiver ran through your body. You’d been hunched over in your cell, layers upon layers of clothing attempted to clothe yourself from the weather. It did nothing to help the cold from seeping to your core. Your teeth chittered against one another, a hand wrapping around the wool blanket from your mattress to cover your body with it.

From a distance, you heard footsteps down the hall. Probably just Rick or Daryl making their rounds in the cell blocks to see how everyone was holding up during the storm. It was hard for everyone, especially the new people taken in from Woodbury and Judith, Rick’s infant daughter, to deal with this discomfort of winter.

Thudding of feet on the stone flooring became louder minute by minute, knowing now that it had to be one of the two men, now, leaders of your group of survivors you called family. You weren’t as advanced as Daryl was with his tracking, so you really couldn’t tell which one of the men it was. Though, as the steps became louder, it came to your attention the distinct sound of heeled boots, as well as metal clinking on his belt. It was only a moment before you heard the sound of the sheet blocking your cell doorway being pulled back.

“Hey. How you holdin’ up?”

Hesitating on movement at first, you sighed, then turned toward the southern voice in the doorway. Rick stood in the hallway, hand on his hip, the other holding the curtain back.

“Hey, Rick. I’m... hanging in there… best I can. Not much I can do to change how fucking cold it is but… how’s everyone else doing?”

You hear him respond from the hall, “They’re managing. Carl was askin’ about you though, wanted to make sure you were okay. He’s spending the night with Judith.”

“Mm, okay. I’ll check in with him later… or tomorrow. Whenever I’m not freezing my ass off..” Chuckling, you shift the blanket tighter around you.

“Right, well don’t freeze to death tonight, ‘kay? We need you,” He says, beginning to drop the curtain until he pulls it back open and says, “Daryl was askin’ about you earlier.”

“Daryl was? What- what did he say?” You double blinked in surprise at such an idea.

You had just recently become close with him, but it would be a lie if you said you weren’t holding back some teeny tiny feelings for him. A teeny tiny crush that made being in the mere presence of him overwhelming. Your palms always began sweating whenever he got close to you, making your voice shake and train of thought lost in the way he held himself. Daryl was intimidating, but you knew he was kind, and even quite funny amidst the struggles he’s been through.

“Somethin’ about him not being able to sleep in this cold. Was wondering the same about you. He’ll probably be up all night...” Rick scratched the back of his head.

“Poor guy... I mean I thought he was a night owl, but I couldn’t imagine not being able to sleep at all.” You stated, concern for him growing.

“He’s had it rough. But I don’t think he’ll put his head down even if he got within an inch of being tired. Would you check on him if you get the chance?”

“Sure. You should go get some rest yourself. You definitely need it.”

“Yeah, I’ll try. Have a good night.” You smile at him this time as he drops the sheet fully this time, the clicking of his heeled boots drifting away.

What kept you awake for the next half hour was the thought of what went on behind those pretty eyes of his, always considering everyone around him while not thinking of himself at all. You sigh, I wish I could make things better for you. Show you how much love you deserve. Fuck…

You drift off after that, succumbing to fatigue that had your eyelids feeling a hundred pounds heavy.

A couple hours pass before slight stirring outside your small room catches your observant ear. It was far past midnight yet, late enough for everyone with a normal sleep schedule to be out like a light.

You lay in bed, eyes still closed, thinking, who the hell is up at this hour?

The footsteps fade to nothing, thinking whoever it was went back to sleep, perhaps to use the bathroom or something. Then you heard someone clear their throat from the hall, sounding right outside your sheet. It’s then your eyes shot open, peering over to the entrance of the room. You’re about to call out, but remember the dozens of sleeping individuals in the other cells. So you wait.

Sure enough, you hear a sigh still outside of your room, patiently waiting for some, if any, response.

You hear a faint call out of your name, given by someone with a low, surly voice. It takes a minute to register in your head as to who it was, and then you remember what Rick told you earlier.

“Daryl? That you?” Rubbing your eyes from sleep, you sit up.

“Yeah, ‘s me.” You hear his faint footsteps approach slowly, his silhouette painting a dark figure against the white of your sheet. His hand lifts it, peering in with curiosity.

“Come- come in. You don’t have to stay out there.” You state, waving him into the cell, noticing his poncho thrown over his usual leather jacket and shirt. When he’s fully in the room, you notice the dark circles lingering under his blues, proving Rick’s knowledge of the man was true.

“I didn’t wake ya, did I? Shit- couldn’t sleep. Been up forever.”

Shaking your head, you give a small smile, “No, don’t worry. I got some sleep but the cold wasn’t really helping.”

He nods, chewing the inner side of his lip.

“What’s up, Daryl?”

“I just- Ya know this weather, there ain’t a smidge of heat in this damn prison. No matter how many blankets I got.” He half chuckles, but you can tell it’s more of a scoff. Daryl’s wringing his hands within each other and pacing across the floor.

“I know, feels like I’m wearing ten layers of clothes just to not freeze to death. It’s fucking awful. Like I’ve never seen…” You stop for a moment, taking in his stressed state before he glances at you, “Uh.. never seen Georgia of all places have harsh snow like this. Lived here all my life and it’s never been this bad.”

“Yeah, me too. Except that was when we had electricity, and fuckin- road pavers or some shit. I don’t fuckin’ know.” Daryl picks up the chuckle you let out at his words, and you’re nodding when he looks over again.

“Hey, listen. It’s late and I know you didn’t come all the way from the perch to talk to me about the weather.. so really, what’s on your mind?”

Daryl’s pacing halts abruptly, knowing you can read him like a book. It feels as though his stomach turns inside out when he thinks about what he really wants to say. “I uh… I’ve been up for probably two, no, three days now, haven’t been able to sleep since the cold. And… fuck.“

“You know you can tell me anything.” He huffs out a breath and nods to himself, almost like he’d been trying to hype himself up for wanted, no, needed to say. His hesitation had already made you anxious and you wanted to pick his brain to ease all his worries. But you stayed silent and let him speak.

“Okay, listen. I’m damn freezing… and uh, I know you run warm. Like a damn furnace in the summer. But I was wonderin’ if… You wouldn’t mind if I… um, lay with ya?”

You hold off on responding for a moment as his words turn the gears in your head. Daryl wanted to… lay in bed? With you? Just the idea of his body that close to you made your hands sweat. Your eyes darted around swiftly, before you responded.

“Like, in- in my bed? With me?”

“Uh, yeah. Feels like that’s the only way I’m gonna be able to get some shuteye.” His eyebrows furrowed, and you noticed his fidgeting hands. Your silence made him immediately think it was a shit idea and he should’ve just kept it to himself. Should’ve just suffered through the fatigue and gone back to his perch. He began to realize you were about to deny him. What was he thinking?

“Daryl, this bed is not big enough for the two of us.” You chuckled playfully and watched his stern face drop.

“Oh, alrigh’. Sorry t’bother ya.” He began to turn his broad shoulders toward the door.

“But…”

He froze in his steps, turning back.

“Your warmth and rest is more important to me. So, get your ass over here.” A small smile formed on your tired face, painting the tips of his ears red. Daryl kicked off his shoes by the doorway and padded over to your bed. Once you moved to lay down on your side, you lay your head on the edge of your pillow, inviting him to share the blanket with you, your arm out in a welcoming embrace.

Daryl, still caught off guard with the fact that you were letting him be this close to you, kept his poncho on and crawled in next to you on the creaky mattress. He wasn’t surprised at the warmth radiating off you once he fully laid down next to you. The second he looked up at your face, the realization that your faces were inches away made his eyes widen.

“Glad you’re not one to shy away in close quarters..” You giggle, gazing at his facial features for the first time, and this is as close as the two of you have ever been. A corner of his mouth quirks upwards, the smallest inkling of a smile on his face.

“This tiny ass bed is somehow more comfy than mine. Maybe ‘cause you’re here..” You could tell Daryl’s fatigue was catching up with him, as his words slurred, and his eyes began to flutter closed. A piece of his hair falls in front of his eyes, and you move your hand up to move it from covering his eyelids. Once your fingertip ghosts over his face, he flinched, only slightly for a moment and remembered you’re there. He knows you’d never hurt him, leaning into your movement, his shoulders easing up their tightness.

“Shh.. get some rest. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Your voice is low and soft, it right about lulls him to sleep.

“M’kay, sunshine.” Daryl scoots in, pressing an inch or so closer to you. You don’t realize at first, but his right hand lays directly on top of yours. His warm hand caresses your palm, slightly moving your fingers to intertwine in his. You cup his cheek, and lightly press a kiss to his forehead. He grumbles to himself a bit more, till you sense he’s fallen asleep, allowing your eyes to flutter closed as well.

He's warm and familiar, safe and closer than ever. You wanted to breathe in the scent of his leather jacket and never let go.

Seems like you were just what he needed for a good night’s rest.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #devnmonwrites #ryesff #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon x you #daryl x you #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon

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devnmon · 11 days

Text

Reason on the Common Tongue (of you lovin' me)

Dutch Van Der Linde x F!Reader

Summary: You’ve taken another man in camp out for drinks while Dutch was busy and unwilling to take the night off. Who’s to say he’s forgotten where you’d gone by the time you return?

warnings: oral (f&m receiving, sir kink, rough!dutch, dom/sub roles, unprotected piv, orgasm denial, cumming inside (not recommended for irl experiences), sweet aftercare <3

a/n: anyone else insane about dutch van der linde? just me???? anyways just wanted to say this is filthy and also one of my favorite things i’ve written. i say that everytime i write something new but i truly love this fic. [who would have known this was going to be my first fic for rdr2.] also huge shoutout & credit to my moot jay @bandittlikemee for everything she’s done to help me write this fic. youre truly a genius bestie! also this is set in the clemen's point camp!

Dutch Van Der Linde was a busy man. So much so that he didn’t have time to get up to ludicrous activities such as drinking the night away in the Rhodes saloon. It was another sweltering night in Clemen’s Point; nothing exciting had happened for a few days on account of lying low to skip out on any facetime with the Pinkertons. Since you’d been itching to get out of camp, and your ever-so-important leader wouldn’t spend a singular night with his partner drinking and dancing, you offered the trip up to a familiar gunslinger instead.

With a wave towards his tent, the two of you were off to the local saloon on the back of Arthur’s horse. It was long after dark before the two of you returned; you had been more indulgent than your companion, practically making Arthur carry you out to his horse before you got too inebriated on the drink. Being swept off your feet like Arthur had done felt like flying, especially when he sped up his horse on the ride back to camp.

“Whoo! That was one fun night, Mister Morgan. Even if you didn’t let me out on the dance floor.”

“Don’t you dare get sick on this horse b’fore we get back to camp.”

“I ain’t drunk!” you called out.

“Yeah, and I ain’t a gunslinger.” Arthur joked.

You both boasted with laughter and quips during the ride back into camp, fairly shortened by Arthur’s ability to ride a horse, and soon enough you were entering the clearing.

Dutch, spending his night nursing a cigar, perked up once he heard your familiar laughter in his ears. He knew the minute you’d left camp with Arthur, it was a mistake. Were you to blame? Or was he? Surely you could’ve known all he was combatting at the moment; the leader of a powerful gang, the Van Der Linde’s, had more on his plate than you could even fathom. Moves, and countermoves, he’d say. All in good time, Dutch has a plan.

To find out you’d left camp with Arthur of all men, his son, whom he’d raised since just a boy– was he a fool to you? Did you underestimate all he was capable of? Did you think him a fool?

He’d show you, indeed he was not.

Dutch took another deep inhale of his cigar, the tobacco filling his mind with a haze of your figure. Then he’d remembered who you’d been spending the time with. Another laugh escaped your lips, louder than usual, and his dark eyes found you sat on the back of Arthur’s horse, reaching toward the cowboy for assistance in getting down. He can’t help but glue his eyes to your waist, accompanied by Arthur’s hands for what seems to be a moment longer than he’d like.

Sat in silence, he's almost as red as his vest when you approach the tent.

“Hey, baby. Wish you came with us t’night. I almost punched a man for makin’ a crude comment toward me. You would’a loved to see it, the guy basically pissed himself when Arthur threatened ‘im.” You're slurring your words while babbling on incoherently; your balance is shoddy at best, and he doesn't even say anything until you mention his right-hand man.

"Have fun drinking with Arthur, dear? Was he able to... satisfy you?"

"Mhm, Arthur was very kind to me tonight." To even suggest you'd be satisfied being in the company of anyone else but him makes Dutch furious.

"Did he... rustle your feathers, dearest?" With the way he punctuated his words, you're a bit confused by what he means, since the drink's gone to your head.

"What'dya mean?" you ask, batting your eyelashes at him by chance he'd forget Arthur was by your side all night instead of him. Dare you poke the bear.

"Did he–" he let out a breath of smoke, "Was he such good company that you'd forgotten about me? Your leader?" The grumble in his voice fans the flames in your chest; if you weren’t warm from the alcohol, you certainly were now.

Your glazed eyes make out the vision of Dutch, his silhouette darkened by one lamp still lit. When he starts sauntering towards you, step by slow step, you know he's not amused by all this Arthur talk.

"Mm, no, never." Your intoxication doesn't help you sound convincing, though sober you knows Dutch loves the reassurance.

"Sounds like you're lying to me, my love."

He flicks his cigar out of the tent and watches as you stumble to sit down in a chair facing him. Then your mind pulls you back to the events at the saloon– drinking with Arthur and watching him dance drunkenly to the piano– you're giggling at the image. But Dutch.. he's not finding this funny.

"What’s laughable, right now, dear? "He asks, accentuating the h sound while tilting his head at you down with his dark eyes.

"Jus'... Arthur was so fun to be with t'night. An’ I missed you... wish you'd come with us, handsome."

"Well I had to tend to more pressing matters, my darling. You'd only understand if you weren't so piss drunk right now. Maybe I ought to teach you a lesson about what company you should be keeping."

Dutch takes a seat on his cot, his right hand tapping the corresponding thigh. As if instinctual, you lunge yourself over to him and take your rightful seat.

Dutch has always been intimidating, it was one of the reasons you've become enamored with him. But when he narrows his eyes and guides them down your face and figure, close up? you're blushing out of being perceived by such a man of power in this world.

"What're you giggling about now?" he inquires, holding your head with his palm so you'll make eye contact.

"You're jus' so handsome, Mister Van der Linde. My sweetest, the most dashing man I've met."

"You, my dear, are adorable,” he began, and with a click of his tongue, he continued, “But, I still don't believe you. How ‘bout you… make it up to me, hm?"

At that point, you can already feel him hardening under you in his lap, and you clench around nothing. For the first time tonight, your voice shakes.

“What.. would you have me do?” You swallow nervously, wavering your eyes from his for a moment; he ordered your gaze be brought back to his immediately with the clearing of his throat. As if to check you for disobedience.

“On your knees… now.” Dutch’s voice lowered, his words putting a spell on you once spoken. Sliding down to your knees, your hands glided over his thighs for just a moment, letting the friction spike his legs with another level of desire to show you who you belong to.

“Don’t tease me, darling… lest I have to remind you why you’re on your knees for me.” Dutch’s eyes darkened once you were firmly on your knees, tongue darting out to wet your lips. It was as if a Greek god asked you to bow down to him and solely him– Dutch’s physique and natural manliness only contributed to that image of him in your mind.

Your hands reached for the button of his pants, pulling them down his muscular thighs to see his growing hardness underneath the cloth. For a minute, your palm brushed against his girth, earning a grumble from the man above you. It wasn’t lost on him the way you were acting, all innocent like you weren’t aware of the way you were making him burn for your touch.

Once your hands had them down far enough, the dark tuft of hair from his mound came into the light, which opened your eyes wide upon pulling it all the way off. Dutch’s length sprung upwards and caught your eye, especially frustrated and swollen, much like his growing displeasure with your actions. Freed from the confines of his pants and undergarments, his cock stood tall, lying well past his navel against that black vest of his.

As your grip surrounds his base, Dutch clears his throat once more whilst observing every move you made. Your thumb runs along the prominent vein sticking out and moving your hand up his length. He’s certain you aren’t aware just how vexed you had gotten him.

“Get to it.” he spat, enunciating every part of his words with that sharp wit and tongue. Without another second to spare, you licked the pearling precum resting on his tip, before enveloping it with your lips. Luckily for you, he filled your mouth quite nicely, his fingers running through your hair to grip tightly at the back of your head. Tongue running down the underside as you began to ravish him with your lips, he took the advantage to push you down a couple inches more.

With his tip almost nudging the back of your throat, you push down another inch or so and bobbing up and down on him to your heart’s content. The alcohol-buzzed vision of him, burning brighter with each inch you took further past your lips. Dutch rolled his shoulders and neck out in a slow motion, locking those gluttonous eyes of his back onto you with a smirk.

You came up for air with a pop of your lips, his erection shining under the warm light from your saliva.

“So big…” you whispered, stroking him with your hand and going back down for another taste. This time, Dutch was not simply fooling around; his hand forced you down rougher this time, the back of your throat welcoming him once again. It was ravishing to be put under the control of a man such as Dutch; the power he held over you was maddening and traveled to your head every so often. With the tip kissing the back of your throat after each shove down his length, your eyes begin to well up.

“Takin’ me so deep, love, you’ve got tears in your eyes. Now I have truly seen it all.” Releasing his hard grip for a moment, you come off his cock and wipe them away like they aren’t anything special.

“I’d do much more for you, sir.” You choke out, lips swollen from just his cock, and you press a kiss to his tip before sticking out your tongue and swallowing him whole again. The hand that was once gripping your hair was cupping your cheek, the other had undone two of his vest buttons, leaving his broad torso on display in just that white and blue striped shirt.

This time Dutch chuckles in that deep gravel of his, surging your heat with a plethora of warmth. His chest broadens with every exhale of fervent breath, the slow burn of dissatisfaction eating him up inside. Beads of sweat begin to form on his forehead, the knot in his groin tugging at him ever so slightly.

You let his length fill your throat wantonly, pushing yourself down enough to take every inch. Your nose became buried in the dark patch of curls he’d kept tidy, clearing his throat once more while relishing in the warmth of your tongue against him.

“You’re gonna taste me for days, sweetheart. Gonna – fuck – gonna remind you who you belong to. Make it so you don’t forget this time.” Dutch’s right hand combed through your hair, controlling your mouth’s movements down his shaft, saliva messily covering his skin. A particular thrust of your head in his grip pushes your nose into his curls, making you gag around him. It’s not much to remind him why you were his, the raw class he omitted an infectious disease; it just so happened to be you found under his spell.

Repeatedly, your head moved up and down his cock, Dutch gripping your hair and taking what he deserved. After all, you did take another man out to drink. How dare you not bask in the appreciation of his company otherwise? Dutch had no discretion– no temper to waste on explaining himself to you. You should have known he’d get mad.

On spur of the moment, his controlling movements halted and your tongue swirled around his tip. A feral growl erupted from his chest, painting your cheeks pink before releasing him to catch your breath.

“Mmmph, Dutch…” comes out as a whine, shifting the weight you’d been sitting on.

“What now, dearest? I don’t think you deserve to complain after what you’ve done.” His words manifest a wave of arousal scorching your skin and mind– Dutch was torturous in that regard. When he clicked his tongue, you knew there was only a matter of time until he truly took control. This was only the beginning of a very long night.

Dutch had a way of changing the temperature of a room with one fell swoop. To you, it was a life altering experience being under his discipline, especially in this setting.

Another whine escaped you, words eventually choked out, “I’m sorry, Dutch…”

He solely chuckled, sitting up and raising your chin with his index finger.

“That’s funny, my dear. You didn’t seem sorry when you stormed off and took Mister Morgan as company.” He sneered, the permanent smirk on his face, becoming bigger by the second. You clung to his words like water coating a piece of cloth, soaking up every syllable for a smidge of satisfaction.

“Please, I’m so…” you trailed off, your thoughts whisked away when you heard him chuckling.

“You’re sorry?”

Nodding almost instantaneously, he clicked his tongue.

“Fine. As much as I’d love to fill that sweet mouth of yours all night long, I’m itching for a taste of your perfect cunt. Come here.”

Two fingers motioned you towards him, tongue sticking out to wet his lips, while inclining his head at the vision of you still kneeling for him. Dutch didn’t miss the slightly pained sound as you relieved the weight on your knees, knowing they’d most likely be bruised tomorrow. He took incredible amounts of pride seeing himself in the bruises, teeth marks, and spend he left behind on your saccharine skin.

Your swollen lips wet from your tongue, sensitive thanks to the friction against his length moments ago. Still shy of that dark gaze when he too stood, a forefinger and thumb brought you right back to him.

“I need you to know…” he spoke breathlessly, crushing your lips to his in one motion. Dazed by his sudden affection and the thick tension in the room, you drowned in his taste.

Unbound by any other attachments, your soul was his.

Dutch’s lips pressed against yours were fervent and skillful, a new taste of himself on you. By the third peck, Dutch had forced his tongue into your mouth, venom coating your mouth. Intoxicating.

His right hand finds your waist, pulse hammering in your chest as that broad figure of his flooded your visual field up close.

“... that your actions have consequences.” His grip tightened around your jaw, tobacco on his breath as he spoke.

“Just because I don’t wish to accompany you to the town saloon for a drink does not mean you’re permitted to take the next desperate fella in company who’d so easily strike you from my arms.” That slight growl in his voice paired with the liquor in your system triggered the heat at the apex of your thighs to burn hotter.

“Arthur ain’t like that–” you slurred, getting cut off by a hiccup; a clear sign you were still not understanding how gravely Dutch was taking your little excursion out of camp. His voice was nothing but otherworldly, smooth and rich with charisma and magnetism. No surprise you obeyed his every word without question.

“I don’t remember asking for excuses,” he spat, smirking, “Let’s get you out of this dress..”

Those calloused yet talented hands of your leader find the back zipper quite easily, wasting no time by pulling it down your shoulders roughly. The fabric was tight, but with the level of Dutch’s strength, you wouldn’t put it past him to create a few rips. His movements were followed accordingly, still ravaged with the current indignation he held upon you.

Once you met his eye, seeming to shrink a bit more when looking up to him, that foreboding glare into you was similar to putting a flame near a stick of dynamite. There was no telling when he (or you) would explode. That dashing face of his created another spark inside you, one bold enough to pull his lips to yours once again. A hand grasped the back of your neck tenderly, the first soft action Dutch made upon your skin.

Don’t fall into his touch… you tell yourself. But the drink was too strong, and his venom made its way into your bloodstream. There was no turning back.

Aphotic, tantalizing eyes studied you, the only way you could sense his willingness to please after the fury that still embodied him.

“Satiate me...” he beckoned, walking you backwards to his cot where your knees met the side. Adhering to his plea, your back found the fabric and sighed amongst the sight of him above you. His hands never left your body, sliding down your back to the side of your leg, then moving to your inner thigh with the slightest touch before gripping it with his broad palm.

Suddenly the thin chemise was much too hot against your skin.

“Dutch, please…” you begged once again.

“Ah ah… that’s Mister Van Der Linde to you, my sweetness. You’ll receive the right to say my name when you’ve earned it.” His voice was like honey, eager fingers tugging at the white cloth. Dutch didn’t need permission, he gladly took what he believed to be his, no matter the cost. You swallowed thickly at the cool air prickling your skin with the tensity and vigor the man before you withheld.

“Yes, sir, Mister Van Der Linde…” you professed, breathlessly.

Dutch’s cock twitched upon the sir that fell from your lips. He chuckled, tightening his grip on your undergarment and dragging it down your skin. Your chest was exposed to him first, keen skin still layered with sweat and goosebumps while your nipples hardened against the nighttime air. You were just as he expected, breathing heavily and quivering under the first touch of his fingertips. Impatient, the garment was dragged down your legs by the older man and discarded on the floor.

Dutch’s hands parted your quivering thighs, calloused palms from years of using a gun gripping around you firmly. You could practically feel the flame of his gaze make its way up to the tuft of hair making an appearance from between your legs. He slid both palms up your legs, parting them accordingly so that your slick caught the light. Focused on his face, you notice his walnut eyes catch yours, immediately heating your cheeks.

It was meant to be; Dutch was your siren, luring you in with each word he manifested, every spill of his cherry wine words onto a white tablecloth. His mouth neared the thick curls protecting your supple skin from harm, a similar style in which Dutch protected his people.

“Such a divine sight laid out for me like this. I’m going to remind you exactly who you belong to, have you come back to me.” The baritone and rumble in his voice was like nothing you’d ever heard before. He was quite honestly a man starved, no matter how angered he was at what you’d done.

Before you knew it, Dutch’s nose was poking your clit the slightest bit, meanwhile he’d pressed his tongue through your folds and covered himself in your taste. You gasped, your breath coming in ragged bursts as everything you’ve ever felt for Dutch comes flooding back in the blink of an eye. Each stroke of his tongue was another day you’d spent by his side, loyal to no other.

Your leader, your lover, your siren.

Nothing else filled your senses, except for Dutch Van Der Linde.

Those dark brown eyes were lidded against the lack of light, his tongue skillfully drinking in your sweet nectar as if it was his last meal. You danced across his taste buds and he groaned, the vibration sending your hips rolling against his mouth out of impulse. Exhaling sharply and continuing to breathe shakily, the tip of Dutch’s tongue circled around your sensitive clit.

“Fuck– sir… oh god,” He pressed a chaste kiss to your clit, breath hitching in anticipation. The flat of his tongue ran kitten licks up your folds, each movement sending a jolt coursing through you. Before you could protest, he ended another stripe up your cunt with a tantalizing drag against your sensitive bundle of nerves. It was particularly frustrating when he hummed against you once more.

“Hope this is reminding you,” he swallowed, “of where your loyalties lie. To whatever man you can get your hands on? Or me, your leader? The sole individual responsible for keeping this entire group pieced together?”

It was a no-brainer.

“You– fuck… My loyalty lies with you, Mister Van der Linde. I promise… never to take another man in company… again.” You breathed, in disbelief at how composed he was; you were a downright panting mess, but a goddamned sight laid out like this for him.

Upon your hips stuttering against his tongue, Dutch shifted closer to your core, hooking his large biceps around each of your thighs and gripped with his overpowering strength. The cool gold of his rings was a contrast to how hot your skin ran under his touch. That tongue of his circled around your clit repeatedly, until he pulled away to admire the mess he’d made of you in such short time.

“Fuck– oh god…” your nails ran through his jet black hair to grip at the back of his head. Dutch’s mouth worshiped each part of you equally, sticking his tongue inside you every so often; it was driving you mad.

Thinking himself clever, he pulled his right arm from gripping around your thigh. His rings ran across the vast expanse of your skin, trailing the chilled metal close to where you were most sensitive.

His amber eyes glanced upward, past the natural curves of your breasts to your fully blissed out expression; your eyes were scrunched together, mouth hanging open with bated breath. The haze of intoxication still coursing through you sent ripples of pleasure surging up your spine.

“I’ve decided to let you redeem yourself, my love. What would you say to that?” Dutch inquired, using that philosophical tone of voice he’s picked up from reading and quoting Evelyn Miller often.

“I’d do… anything to have you. To please you, to bring you bliss, sir.” Your breath quivers at the point of offering yourself to him in a plea to finally satisfy you.

“I’m not quite sure if you’re deserving of it– just yet, that is.” Maintaining eye contact with you, Dutch stood himself up to undo the buttons down his shirt and let it lay open under his red-backed vest.

“Been… been so good for you, sir. Please,” you implored him an inch further, watching his broad chest heave with deep breaths. His hand adorned with two thick gold rings heads straight for the belt buckle around his waist.

“Have you understood, yet, my darling? How I must be torturous? For it is the only way you’ll learn never to disobey, betray, leave me?” Dutch’s prophetic stance above you was truly enticing, the vibrato of his words coaxing another whimper from you.

“I’ve… understood, sir,” you eyed the belt coming undone within his skilled fingers and exhaled in relief.

“You’re going to have to do better than that to convince me. Speak, girl.” The astounding heat, not only flowing through your veins like hot magma, but also flooding your head and hazing your mind with him. Interested in what you had to say, he waited for your response and discarded his belt.

“Sir, I’m a fool… a fool thinking anyone else could satisfy me in the ways you do.” your voice quivered, breathing heavily and watching his hickory eyes study you. His black pants found themselves in a pile along with everything else he’d discarded from your body and his. “My leader, no one else can replace you, you’re the only man made to save people in the ways you did… even me. We’re– I’m so lucky to have you. And I’m– I apologize deeply for my actions, sir.”

He’d be hard pressed to admit the praise wasn’t intoxicating him at this moment, a growl erupting from his chest among his length stood tall against his exposed torso.

“Well, isn’t that nice. An admittance of your mistakes. Such a lovely difference from the snark I’d been given earlier. Hopefully you’ll learn your lesson.” He gripped the base of his cock and crawled above your supple figure on his cot, noticing your sharp inhale once he was fully perched above you. Dutch’s free hand parts your thighs, making room for his tip to slide through your folds, stopping below the little bundle of nerves that ached for any kind of stimulation.

It was easy for him to pick up on your sharp, quickened breaths upon his close proximity, scrunching your eyes shut to avoid that beckoning gaze of his.

“If this is going to work, my love, you must look. Observe how I split you open, how you take my cock, how I fuck you.” He snarled, pecking the side of your face with open-mouthed kisses. Your eyes fluttered open as if second nature, meeting his gaze while pushing himself completely inside of you.

His length filled you to the hilt, every ridge and groove of him welcomed by your warmth. Dutch breathed a moment with you, smashing his lips against yours to swallow the whimpers you omitted. Your hands ran up his chest, dragging your fingers through the thick chest hair to Dutch’s broad shoulders. He shrugged off the shirt and vest upon your hands sneaking under the cloth, leaving him fully bare to you.

The first drag of his cock against your insides manifested another filthy moan to secrete from your lips while he pushed back in.

“Sir–” you gasped, his natural musk clouding your senses. Dutch thrusted into you deeper, kissing that special spot inside of you to send you seeing stars. Quick as light, his thrusts picked up pace, setting a steady rhythm with his hips.

“Say my name.” Dutch’s voice in your ear echoed through your head like a mantra, the only thing bombarding your senses being him.

“Oh god, Dutch–” you choked out, his name on your tongue only spurring him on more to push deeper.

“Yes, that’s it, again.” he spoke between thrusts, clenching around him while pulling groans of his pleasure into the air. His cock has molded to your walls, relentlessly beating such a punishing pace.

“Dutch… ah-!” His name in your throat like a jewel only spurred him on more, humming approvingly and latching onto your neck with the sweet sucking of his lips. There was absolutely no chance of Dutch letting you get off easy without any showable marks. He had an inkling all the men in camp would think twice before making any advancing remarks toward you– lest they forget who you belong to.

A glance downward had you turning lightheaded– did he really always look that dashing? You’d become tantalized watching his girth disappear and reappear at least a dozen times before his fingers brought your gaze back to him. Each thrust of his hips was dizzying, picking up the familiar groans in your ear once again.

In this moment, you were completely and utterly his, transcending into a place of physical surrender and letting the world fall away. A particularly rough thrust had you calling out for him again, his hand coming up to wrap around your throat.

“Got myself such a good little whore, ain’t that right? One who knows her place is with me– your only leader.” You could scarcely manage a nod upon reveling in the touches he gave you.

Dutch was maddening, luring a groan from him once he saw how far gone you were. It was immensely overstimulating the minute Dutch’s right ringed hand dragged up your torso to the pebbled nipples standing upright from stimulation. Goosebumps expelled across your skin as the knot in your stomach began to tighten, walls fluttering around his length aimlessly. He leaned down again to the side of your face, breathing heavily above you. Slowing to deliver deep and agonizing thrusts, Dutch only drew out your orgasm further, as if he read your state of overstimulation like an open book. His fingers twisting your nipples, those smacks of his hips against yours– your sheer bliss in the center of it all.

Your hand fisted his dark waves at the nape of his neck, another grumble aligned with his thrusts. His pace wasn’t as merciful as you hoped it would be, the sting of his precise and rough thrusts pricking tears in your eyes the same as before. You were at such a heightened state that you weren’t able to control what left your mouth anymore.

“Daddy… I-I’m gettin’ close..” you whimper, running your other hand up his bicep to grip desperately. He felt the pride well in his chest upon his skill to pleasure you like this while also making you cry. To see you in such desperate of situations fueled his ego like a bonfire.

“Oh, are you, my love?” he began, snaking his hand down to your navel and pressing his hand against it. The tip of his cock poked just the slightest bit against his palm. “Feel how deep I am inside you, darling, and know that nobody could fill you the way I do.”

Dutch’s deft fingers moved downward to rub at your clit, throbbing incessantly upon his first touch. The whimper you let out was like music to his ears, filthy and drenched in content of being pleasured by him.

By the expression on his face– he’s impressed at how well you held back from letting yourself go. It’s Dutch’s realization then that you’d always known you were his to touch and please like this, more than any other before. Dutch Van Der Linde is the object of all your desires; continuing to orchestrate bliss under any means possible.

Every ridge and vein of him massages you in such a euphoric way, and it’s not too hard for you to be sent over the edge. It’s as if every inch of you explodes in that moment, allowing each morsel of stimulation; his fingers twisting your nipples and on your clit, the sensation of him throbbing inside you, and the sound of his voice in your ears; come together to send you gasping and moaning over his cock once again.

You can’t hear much else other than the wet slide of him inside you, walls slick as his once steady rhythm grows erratic, forcing his thrusts to become harder and harder. An ache like this would always have a way of satisfying you in more ways than most. Dutch’s groans became visceral as he thrust one more time into you until he too was sent keening over the edge. His hips stuttered, white ropes of seed coating your walls while riding out your high to the sounds of Dutch’s melody of sweet groans and praises.

Both of you breathed heavily as the moment passed, your grip on one another grounding you back to Earth.

“Now, say ‘thank you, daddy’.” he snarled in your ear, keeping himself sheathed inside you while moving his hips the slightest bit.

“Thank you, daddy..” You swallowed, breathless upon his capability to have just come down from his high and keep that cocky attitude.

“Well, what are you thanking me for, doll? Be specific.” Dutch cupped your cheek, his thumb running along your skin lightly.

“For… reminding me who I belong to. You.” Your lips crashed against his once again, the passion and heat of the moment still rung in the air.

“That’s right, my darling.” He pulled out of you, lying beside you with a smug grin on his face. The two of you laid in the warmth your body heat offered, catching your breath. Cool air continued to seep into the tent, a drastic difference than the heat you two shared. Dutch was the first one to break the silence, your alcohol dazed mind still fluttering from such intense contact.

“Oh, my darling, are you alright? You were ravishing tonight.” You glanced over, his forehead glowing with sweat in the warm lantern light.

“Yeah, I’m good, baby. After all that, ’m glowin’. You sure know how to make a woman stay loyal.” you smirked at him, struck by his handsome face in the light.

“I’m sure,” he chuckled, “Hope I wasn’t too hard on your precious body, my love. The last thing I would want is to injure you or push a boundary I should not have. Tell me.. dearest.” Dutch sat up, grabbing your hand with one of his, caressing your wrist with his thumb. His hair was disheveled in the most perfect way, afterglow still apparent on his cheeks.

Warmly, you beamed at him, “Of course you weren’t, not if I made you mad in the first place. Not at all…”

Your words brought a smile out in him, and you caught it just before he pulled you in closer to an embrace. That skin on skin contact fueled every desire for him you had since meeting him. When he noticed and made you his– that was the real luck of the draw. So many women chased after Dutch Van Der Linde as a dream, something to grasp onto as an escape from their lives. But for you, it was all so very real.

“You are mine, my love. Don’t ever forget it again.” Dutch’s voice tickled your ears once more, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before grabbing a nearby blanket to cover your body from the chill of night.

“How could I, my leader? No one could possibly compare to the man before me. I love you.” You sweetly spoke to him, one of your palms lying against his chest lovingly.

“I love you too, my sweetness. I’m so overjoyed to hear you’re loyal to the right man.” He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your cheek and letting his forearm wrap around your waist.

“That I am.” you replied, laying your head on his chest with content, sleep overcoming you from the exhaustion and haze your body had been through with the night’s events. Warm and safe in his arms, your heart was Dutch Van Der Linde’s.

#signed rye #ryesff #devnmonwrites #devnmon writes #dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde smut #dutch van der linde #dutch rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 fanfic #dividers by benkeibear #dividers by peachesboard #dividers by rookthornesartistry

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devnmon · 2 months

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dating sadie adler, kisser of women hcs ♡

obviously i had to do this for my bbg sadie. she deserves MORE appreciation and if nobody will write for her I WILL!!!! i gladly will. i love her, so enjoy these! luv u all!

[also just pretend this is historically accurate bye!]

Sadie is a very intelligent woman... she knows how to hunt, how to use a gun, who knows what else is in that brain of hers. She must have so many hidden talents and skills, and you intend to find out what.

Though her addition to the group was somewhat abrupt, you and Abigail do your best to make her feel welcome. You aren't sure if Sadie feels the comfort that you hope your words provide to her at first. Once the group moves to Clemens Point, you find she's coming out of her shell little by little. You see it in her pristine new outfit when she returns from a run with Arthur, and the way she holds herself is much different than before.

This new version of Sadie Adler was fiery, confident and stickin' it to the man– you quickly found out not to get on her bad side. Though you think you'd let her do anything to you if it were the right situation.

The minute Sadie realizes what she's feeling for you is more than platonic... it takes her back a step. She never thought she'd find someone other than Jake to want in that way– but here you are. You're always at her side, perfect to her, and she will protect you like her life depends on it. When she silently swallows her feelings and pretends she doesn't care, you notice.

You all but have to drag her out of camp in the middle of the night to get a minute alone with her; otherwise there's prying eyes and others whose attention you really didn't wish to grab.

Once the two of you are alone you'll go off on how she's been avoiding you at every turn, rambling on and on like you'd done something wrong. "What happened to you?" you'd ask. She sighs and goes "You happened to me."

"I've been a fool. Do you hate me? What have I done?" statements flow from her when she notices you're silent, staring while she stutters over confessing her feelings. It's at that point you shut her up by kissing her and you can almost hear the sparks flying from the two of you. There's a big ass smile on her face afterwards and she kisses you in between her smiles. Sadie Adler is a smitten fool for you.

She's observant, patient and good with her hands. That is: she teaches you how to shoot a rifle, since you're more comfortable to ask her. She gladly shows you, and when you think you've got it, her arms surround you from behind to adjust your aim– and you're blushing. After she takes her hands away, you're flustered by the loss and silently begging for her to put them back.

Will match outfits with you nonchalantly as a statement to your relationship with her. Like say you're wearing an outfit with blue or white, she'll wear a blue scarf and her white shirt to match you. She'll even give you a piece of her jewelry to wear in that instance, or get you a piece of your own to match hers. Sadie's sentimental & cute like that!!!

Sadie will also leave you notes secretly, to which you fawn over every time. She also definitely gushes over the ones you leave her, when you compare her to the sweet flowers you pick for her. [Arthur noticed how hard she was blushing one time and got curious, she's had to read your notes in private ever since!]

Definitely gets veryyy touchy and affectionate when she's had a few drinks. She's slurring out "Heyyy pretty girlll I know where you can find a nice place to stay for the night..." in your ear and you have to excuse yourselves in *attempt* to get her to sleep.

Sadie is definitely the type to say "i owe you a hundred kisses" if you had a bet with her about something. Usually it was silly, harmless contests that either of you could compete against each other in playfully.

Sadie also introduced you to pranks, which she loves to pull on the other guys. One time the two of you messed with Arthur, sending him silly letters from someone named "Hugh Janus". The two of you tried to hold in your laughs when he got frustrated and yelled out "WHO THE HELL IS HUGH JANUS??" in camp unprompted.

Sadie is a huge cuddler at night, intertwining her whole body with yours to keep warm, especially when it gets chilly at night. There's not a smidge of space to have for yourself, it's shared with her always. Other examples of this are her linking her pinkie finger with yours when you're standing around the group. She loves physical touch so much that she'll do anything to have her skin on yours no matter what; if it's riding on the back of the same horse, or pouring her a drink, she's making some sort of contact. It's her way to say "I'm here & I love you". She's such a sweetheart to you.

NSFW

Yeah Sadie is a top this Sadie is a top that... may I suggest... she's a switch. On rare occasions, Sadie Loves being on her knees for you. She's a real freak like that. She'll beg and beg and beg until you cave and give her what she wants: you.

“Please, stop teasin’ me, just give me what I want. You know I’ll return the favor, sweet girl.” Her raspy voice, her gentle commands, her pretty thighs spread for you..

But when she's in control? Oh it's absoluuutely over for you. She'll praise you constantly cause she knows it's what you want to hear. “Doin’ so good for me, pretty girl. C’mon, let me hear you, use your words. I know you can.. Such a good girl.”

Her soft little whimpers & pleas as she climbs higher & higher. she’s so desperate for release & your touch, she’s basically sobbing for it. her eyes never leave you once she hears the same needy whine come from your side of the room, wanting to watch you come undone from the sight of her spread out for you.

You can't tell me she doesn't get off on you pulling her hair when it's in a messy braid. You love to run your fingers through it and grip, but it's too hot out for that. Plus she thinks it's easier for her braid to be pulled, and fucking loves it.

Her skilled hands could make you a whimpering mess, easily. She knows her way around, and boy if she isn't good at what she does.

"There you go, you got it, takin me so well..." in that accent of hers.. You'll fold every time. “Oh, look at you, pretty girl. Fallin’ apart for me so easily. D'ya know how whipped you got me?" Yeah, she's a lady who knows how to rive you crazy.

Then again... she's a goddamn tease. Especially if you've been bratty? Oh it's over for you. She feels your body up and down, making you work for any other sensual touches by begging. It's music to her ears. She lovesss to make you work for it.

She'll take her time for however long edging you with her fingers, then her tongue, and once you've had about two orgasms from just that, she sticks her strap inside you and gets another.

For aftercare, she'll ask you if you're feeling alright and lay with you after she cleans you up. Usually the both of you fall asleep afterwards, or take a bath or a shower before you do. Her brown eyes shine in the light while she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and kisses your cheeks while you lie together.

#signed rye #sadie adler #sadie adler x afab reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #devnmonwrites #ryesff #red dead redemption 2 #dividers by cafekitsune #dividers by plutism

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devnmon · 7 months

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soul tie.

Summary: You plead to tie your soul with Tess.

Warnings: dominant!tess, thigh riding, tess spits in reader’s mouth, mommy!tess, touch starvation(?) minors DNI.

word count: 2.2k | my tess masterlist

A/N: heyyy it’s been a while since i posted smut, right? figured it was time. anyway, you all know the teaser of this fic i posted months ago? this is that very fic. it has also been a long time coming and i believe it’s worth the wait. that’s just me tho… but what i have written here… i can’t lie, it’s pure filth. i hope you all enjoy. :)

Knees already growing sore from kneeling on them, you whimper, head being tilted upward towards the woman towering over you.

Your words are mumbled, almost low enough under your breath so she can't hear it; but she does. The phrase comes out through desperate pants, a depraved plea for her to give herself over to you, in the most intimate way.

A soul tie, one that lasted till infinity and beyond.

"What'd you say, honey?" Her voice picks up your utterance, beckoning you to say it again.

"I said... spit in my mouth." you whimper again, hoping she'd move the begging of yours along fast enough to give you what you wanted. Tess was a giver, always willing to bring you pleasure for her own enjoyment, listening to moans of her name fall from your lips, while gazing lovingly at the mess she’s made of you. It was always that way with Tess, relishing in the adrenaline and power rush it gave her.

She scoffs at first, wondering how someone so innocent could say something so perverted. Where you got this vulgar mouth from, she didn’t know. But it's doing something to her that she doesn't know how to control, and she didn’t want to. Eyelids hooded, the woman gazed at you intently.

"Never heard you be so dirty, baby. Want me to spit in your mouth, hm?" Tess’s features moved slow and soft, soaking in just how needy you’d become.

“Yes, need it, please..” you beckon, head tilted downwards, flustered with the way her low voice sounded. It was almost as if she couldn’t go without the way you begged for her, your pupils blown out and lips swollen. She could always tell when you got desperate for her. This side of you was something only Tess could see.

The heavy making-out beforehand only made it worse; you were a mess before she even thought about letting you initiate the flurry of hands that’s brought the both of you to the brink of pleasure.

“Please, what?” Tess’s thumb and forefinger slip under your chin, pulling your gaze back to her. Her calloused hand was wrapped underneath your chin, holding your head firmly, knowing you wouldn’t shy away from her touch.

You sat in front of her, hands resting behind your back in only your panties, nipples red and sensitive from being pulled and twisted, with soon-to-be hickeys lying red on your neck and chest. Tess stood over you, maroon shirt unbuttoned with a few dark hickeys forming on her neck. She would be lying if she denied her guilty pleasure of letting you mark her up to ensure no one would mistake her as available.

“Please, mommy.” You swallow with a whimper, growing impatient to touch her. Tess relished in your sounds, a smirk painted on her face.

"Attagirl, now open up for me." Her thumb swipes across your bottom lip, another gesture for your mouth to open in her fervor.

At the command, your mouth opens, tongue sticking out. Your eyes met her hazel ones and she pauses, dragging her eyes over your body at just the sight of you in such a position for her.

She grips your chin again, dragging her eyes back up your body, to your flushed features. Tess leans over your figure once more, letting her lips part the slightest bit, before spitting directly into your mouth. Going to close it with her finger on your chin, you let your lips hang open a bit, and the tiniest bit of her dribbles down your chin.

“Such a messy baby, hm?” The spit dribbles down your skin further, onto the skin of your neck and down your chest.

"Want you..." If it wasn’t for the way Tess gave in to dragging out your pleasure so rarely, the begging and pleading would’ve gotten you into a different situation; over her lap, on your third or fourth orgasm before she’d decide to stop. Even that seemed much less torturous than this, being edged for longer than you’d ever experienced, hungrily aching for her touch.

"Don't be selfish, sweetheart. I'm just enjoying the view."

Tess took her time. She always took her time. Her tone of voice entrancing in its rasp had you trembling. Goosebumps littered your skin and all you could think about were her hands on your body. The thumb you so welcomingly let open your mouth moments ago brushes against your cheek, her gaze locked onto yours.

“Mmph, please…” You whimpered again, pouting with your bottom lip jutted out. She hesitated on giving in to what you wanted, although a part of her thought it was fun to see you like this for her.

“Hm, maybe I should let you sit there longer.” Her grip on your chin drops as she steps a few inches away from the side of her bed, dropping to grab her belt. The clinking of metal filled the air as your view turned into Tess stripping from her jeans and shirt. Hazel eyes became sultry in that trained gaze she held on you. The depth of your appreciation you had for her body never shallowed. She could see it in your eyes most days, how everything about her, especially her imperfections, were beautiful in your eyes.

You moaned out suddenly, “Let me touch you…” shifting your gaze to her exposed skin now. “Fuck, Tessa. You’re everything… can’t believe you’re mine.”

Watching her undress, your eyes caught the curves of Tess’s body, never losing her physique with age. She was strong and intoxicatingly gorgeous; sometimes you really wondered why of all people, she’d chosen you.

“If you could see how you look from my point of view…” Tess took a few steps forward and unclipped her bra, kneeling down on the bed before you. “C’mere.”

Darting towards her from adrenaline, you inched closer on the bed with your heart racing and hands eager. Reaching out, your hands, impatient, hesitated to make any sort of movement. When you hesitated before touching her, she huffed.

“Don’t be afraid, hun. Come closer.” Those sultry words were your final tug, as you jolted forward. Locking your lips with hers, a feverish flurry of deep and desperate kisses were exchanged in a matter of seconds. Kissing her drained your lungs of air, only pulling away when you couldn’t hold it any further.

Her warm, calloused hands lay on your waist, watching as a smirk grew on her face.

“Go on, babe. Ride my thigh.” Tess breathed, grasping your hips a little firmer. You nodded silently and straddled yourself over her leg. Pressing your sensitive nerves against her was enough to send a jolt of pleasure up your spine at the friction.

Taken aback by the heat growing between your thighs, a string of your moans filled the air with pants and whines. Underneath you, Tess groaned and your face contorted with pleasure.

It was overtaking, the enjoyment she got from watching you, and she fucking loved every second of it. Her strong hands rubbed feather light touches up and down the sides of your body, along with feeling the goosebumps litter your skin.

“Touch me, please, mommy.” She knew what you meant, but Tess just wanted to watch you, desperate on top of her. You picked up the look on her face, and began kissing her neck in a feverish manner, aiming to convince her but only allowing her the opportunity to grip your hips harder and chuckle to herself.

“It’s my thigh or nothing. I’m not lifting a finger to help you get off.” Your hips slowed on impact as well, her firm grasp holding you down. The slick from your cunt made grinding on Tess’s thigh much more stimulating.

“Yeah, that’s how you do it..” Her gravel voice whispered in your ear intently, lips making their way to your neck, the tiniest nips scattered across your skin. Your hands trailed up her torso, feeling her hard nipples from watching you, and tugging on them slightly to hear her gasp.

“Feels so good, baby.” Tess felt your weight dig into her thigh a minute longer, and her lips traveled to your face, placing soft kisses on your cheeks. Her words in your head and the utter feeling of her under you were perfect, souls latched together in the moment. She glanced down where your skin met hers, immediately smirking at the evidence of your arousal on her thigh.

“You look so pretty like this for me, baby. Look how wet you are, and I haven’t even touched you..” Tess whispered, ghosting her lips across your neck. “Gettin’ close already?”

The sound of pure bliss you let out was a sign enough, hips stuttering and familiar heat growing. You squeezed your eyes shut, overcome by the sensation between your thighs.

“Nuh uh, baby. Keep those eyes on me. Need to see you.” Your eyes shot open, one of her hands grasping your face to make you look her way. She finally let go of your waist with the other hand to grab at your breasts, twisting your nipples between her fingers desperately.

“Mm.. yes, mommy.” Pretty sounds trail out from you, continuing to rub yourself against her muscle. “Touch me, please baby.” Your knee digs into her groin the slightest bit, and you feel her reach down to push it against her more. You’re whining at the amount of pleasure the friction is bringing you, shut out from everything else in the world, except for her.

“Already made a mess, honey. You’re almost there.” Your whines get louder when she bounces her leg a bit underneath you. The sight of her brimmed hazel eyes only pulled you further towards your high, her figure underneath you moving in unison with yours.

“Mmh… feels s’good- please lemme come..” Your back arches, Tess’s hands steadying your hips once again. The strands of her caramel-colored hair wisped across her skin, some falling over her shoulders. She resembled a goddess in this moment, from the view of her beneath you.

“Go on, then. Come for me, sweetheart.” Your head shot upwards, eyes closed in bliss, trailing your arms up her body to wrap them around her shoulders. Her fingers pinched one of your nipples, yelping at the touch.

“M’gonna- g’na come..” Slack-jawed as she watched you, your thighs trembled against hers the moment your orgasm washed through you. Letting out a gasp, your hips stuttered again. For a moment you went quiet, noticing Tess’s hands on your waist again, slowly still moving you against her leg. You let out a low mewl, body falling weakly against Tess’s, her gentle hands catching you.

“Attagirl… let it all out.” She whispers against your chest, nodding silently as you caught your breath. Her hands cup your face softly, pressing her lips against your forehead. Her movements gradually slow to a stop, once you’ve come down from your high.

“Mmm, I love you, Tessa. So good t’me.” You peck your lips against her cheek ever so softly, trailing them over to her lips. A little drained form your previous orgasm, her thumbs rubbed soft circles into your skin.

“Love you too, honey. So much. You feelin’ okay?” One hand reached up to push a piece of hair from out of your face, noticing it was covered in a light sheen of sweat.

“Mhm, so good. A little tired.. ” You went to rest your head on her shoulder, peppering her skin with light kisses.

“Come lay next to me then, honey.” About to move, you realized that you hadn’t even bothered to look down to where your bodies collided. Once you glanced down at the sight of your slick on her thigh, the mess you made installed a little bit of embarrassment in you.

“Oh.. I should- let me-“ Attempting to raise yourself from the bed for a towel, Tess shook her head and held your waist still.

“I’ll clean it in a minute. Just lay with me for now. You sure you’re alright?” She swiped more strands of hair from your face, grasping one of your hands in hers. Nodding to her, you moved onto the bed, moving one of your hands to cup her face.

“You’re so beautiful, Tessa. Perfect, and all mine.” Your hands were warm against her soft face, a warmth she leaned into almost immediately.

“Mm, so soft in your afterglow, baby. It looks so good on you.” Bashful, you bit your lip and looked away slightly.

“Wanna take care of you too..” You partly mumbled, playing with a couple strands of her hair mindlessly. Tess pondered in silence for a second, then looked towards you.

“Well, we should get cleaned up one way or another. Does a shower sound appealing?” Your gaze lifted to her again, eyes bright with excitement.

“Mhm.. It does.” A slight nod from your head signaled to Tess to move from the bed, which you followed immediately.

The two of you stepped towards the bathroom, and entered the warm shower to relax a bit more. You both shared loving touches and kisses to intertwine your souls furthermore, and felt by the end of the night how much stronger they had become intertwined.

It didn’t matter to you how far apart your souls were, you knew no matter what that they’d be tied together for eternity.

#ryesff #devnmon writes #tess servopolous fanfic #tess servopoulos x female reader #tess servopoulos smut #tess servopolous #tess servopolous x reader #tess tlou #tlou tess #tlou fic #the last of us fanfiction #tess tlou hbo #wlw fanfiction #tess era is forever #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic #im so fricking back with this fic like u dont get it #this one is for my homies #dividers grom cafekitsune and reveriesources!

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devnmon · 2 months

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red dead redemption 2 masterlist

Arthur Morgan

Snuggles at Horseshoe Overlook

Braids

too sweet.

[new!] sfw/nsfw dating honey boy arthur morgan hcs

John Marston

Birdwatching

[new!] sfw/nsfw dating golden boy marston hcs

Sadie Adler

Blind.

[new!] sfw/nsfw dating sadie adler hcs

Dutch Van Der Linde

Reason on the Common Tongue (of you lovin’ me)

all works coming soon xx

#devnmonwrites #devnmon writes #ryesff #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #sadie adler x reader #sadie adler x female reader #john marston x reader #john marston x fem reader #arthur morgan x fem reader #sadie adler x fem reader #dividers by cafekitsune #softcowboi on pinterest for john/arthur photos #sadie pic from itsdoritoz on pinterest #john marston fanfic #arthur morgan fanfic

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devnmon · 1 year

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Season One: Written in My Stars

Daryl Dixon x Reader Slowburn

↠ Series Masterlist | Playlist ↠ Era: The Quarry ↠ Summary: A man named Daryl's world changes drastically when a virus wipes out half the world's population. Coming from a history of trauma and unrequited love, Daryl Dixon copes through the end of the world by writing in a leather-bound journal, as he tries to find tranquil in a world that is everything but. When his plans with his older brother go out the window, he finds himself conflicted as to whether or not he'd be better off alone. How can the end of the world make a man like Daryl feel things for a person, for people, he never thought he would? ↠ Warnings: typical twd gore/violence, mentions of past abuse, scary situations and trauma, [smut eventually... it's going to be a while], Daryl being shy but also an asshole...

Chapters

Chapter One, Days Gone Bye

Chapter Two, A Familiar Notion

Chapter Three, Long Winded Safe Haven

Chapter Four, Bellwood Quarry

Chapter Five, An Almost New Day

Chapter Six, Tell it to The Frogs

Chapter Seven, The Return To Atlanta

Chapter Eight, The Overnight Reckoning

Chapter Nine, TS-19

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devnmon · 1 year

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Rush.

Summary: The hot water floods not only your skin, but your head with thoughts of the man you loved.

A/n: Wrote this after a long day of missing Daryl and being so head over heels for him... anyway enjoy my brainrotted thoughts.

wc: 560

It was the hot water, and it was him.

Each droplet traveled the expanses of your skin from the moment it left the head of the shower. The sound of rushing water and warmth behind closed lids was only a reminder of him further. Within the water was heat, one that burned in your heart for him the way his burned for you. Your fingertips scraped through the grime and dirt thick in your hair, almost the same way he did for you the first time you convinced him this place was safe. That this place was home, Alexandria.

What was once a calm and peaceful place for you, could never be made the same without him. Through the river of water covering your face, you felt him. You always felt him, more when you knew he was around somewhere nearby, but even more when his presence escaped you. Every second your eyes remained closed was a second more you wished with your whole heart that he was there. Standing opposite you, just watching you wash the buildup on your skin, the stress, the sweat, all of it-- he would study you washing yourself clean.

He only wished bathing came easy to him like it did for you.

The only thing that remained, in his eyes, was your perfect self. Your only wish bouncing about in that head of yours was that you'd open your eyes and see him. That your heartache would be cured just by seeing the archer, his face, hearing his voice, feeling his hands caress the canvas of your skin.

Each and every droplet of water descending down your back was, to you, each kiss he'd planted on your body, running a shiver up your spine. Goosebumps were only ever evident in his presence, raising the delicate hairs that grew over your skin. In him, you found home. A safeness you had only felt in dreams of someplace safe to spend the rest of your life with him.

But in a moment, your eyes open, the lonely ache returning at the sight of a wall of blue tile. When the drop in your stomach returned, it only returned in a way the every day dirt and blood returned under your fingernails. A breath you hadn't realized you were holding withdrew from your chest, the next inhale finding a strong shudder before a lump formed in the back of your throat.

The state of vulnerability hits you when you realize just how alone you are. He's not there. He isn't even in the walls of Alexandria. You have no idea where he is, and that tears up any feeling of security you had into shreds.

Two years gone-- away from you. Two years looking for his best friend, his brother. Two years without his kisses, his voice, his touch. Two years without his strong arms around you, the gravel of his voice whispering he loved you and that he'd rather die before losing you.

But this, this felt worse than losing him.

The water still trickled down your back, cold now from how long it's been running. You still couldn't get the thought of him out of your mind. Like he'd been tattooed on the expanses of your skin and stuck into the ridges of your brain.

This feeling would never go away, and neither would he.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #devnmonwrites #ryesff #daryl brainrot has caused me to write this out of pain and anguish #i miss him so bad can you tell #enjoy this blurb filled with my thoughts in the shower yesterday #yes my own experiences influence my fic writing yes im mentally ill. next.#rush.

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devnmon · 1 year

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Long, Long Time.

'Cause I've done everything I know To try and make you mine And I think I'm gonna love you For a long, long time

Summary: Irrevocably in love with the woman you can’t have, a wine drunk night over classical reading and a fireplace aids in decision making.

Ao3 version | tess masterlist

prequel fic

Warnings: smut [a tiny bit], reader hopelessly in love with Tess, use of y/n (a couple times); based on ep 3 of TLOU

wc: 13k

A/n: Okay ummm first of all don’t blame me for writing this much on one character that i’ve never written before, but this fic is literally my baby. It’s my favorite thing i’ve written. I thought it was my turn to take a spin with writing for Tess. Since tlou came out i’ve been obsessed with her and… well you can tell by how much I wrote. Here it is, my perfect Tess fic. Enjoy <3

Today was the day.

A warm morning in September, 20 years after the Cordyceps infection sunk into the deepest depths of society, crumbling down its once high, strong walls, to a brittle, cracked dictatorship of community. The Boston Quarantine Zone was one of your least favorite places in the world, but from what you heard about other cities' QZ's, it was a walk in the park.

As a smuggler, you handled runs for more than 75% of the place, with the help of a few desperate FEDRA officers that offered to look the other way for a price.

If risking your life for bottles of pills and useful supplies was the most dangerous thing to do, then so be it; you were the unlucky one.

Most runs, you were accompanied by one of your two partners, Tess Servopolous or Joel Miller. They were older, skilled, smart, and resourceful, and they knew how to kill. Especially Tess. She could handle her own like it was nobody's business. Hard headed and courageous, Tess became a good partner and soon enough, a close friend.

Although, there was another part of you that found her alluring, captivating and so, so gorgeous. She was confident in herself no matter what, which only drew you towards her more.

Ever since the early days of the outbreak, you three had each other's backs, and nothing could come between you. To you, they were the only thing you'd known after being found by the older woman and taken in. The day she found you, beat up and bloody with several injuries, was the day she had quite genuinely saved your life.

Now a part of Joel and Tess's smuggling business, you were off to a town called Lincoln, a five hour hike from the walls of the QZ.

The hot sun glared down on your skin, a chill September breeze flowing in gusts that kept you cooled off enough throughout your journey.

A majority of the trip was spent in silence, lost in your enamor for Tess, eyes trailing over the back of her figure. She had glanced back once or twice at you, like she could feel your eyes burning into her body.

Some nights you lay awake wondering what it would be like to drag your fingers up and down the expanses of her skin, trailing over her back and caressing the soft skin of her figure till you fell asleep.

Time passed as you traveled behind Tess and Joel, and the image of a metal fence coming into view.

"This is it," Joel stated before approaching the gate. You begin to follow the two older individuals before you pause, stopping a minute to remember something that Frank had mentioned about their gate.

"Wait, I thought you said this thing was booby-trapped or something.. How do we know it won't get triggered?" The concern of your safety was imminent, the unknown patiently waiting behind the metal gates.

"Well we don't, but Frank said if we came from the road instead of the forest that it wouldn't get triggered. They'd see us coming that way, too. Trust me, I know Frank. He wouldn't lie, not when he knows we can work together."

Tess was the expert on the two men that lived behind the gates of the completely deserted town; she was the one who arranged their meeting, after all.

"Alright.." You sighed, walking right up to the gate with them.

There was a box attached to the entry gate with a few buttons on it. You watched Joel walk up to the gate and press a button labeled 'Call'.

A loud buzzing sounded out after he'd pushed the red button in, and a moment later, a male voice responded from the intercom.

"Password."

The voice sounded deeper than Frank's, only assuming the speaker was Bill, the other half of the couple that resided in Lincoln.

"Uh- Ahem," Joel cleared his throat, before stating the code word Frank had given you three before coming.

The feedback rang out as Joel spoke, another buzzing sound coming from the gate as you hear it unlock.

"Alright, let's go. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious, since we really don't know what we're walkin' into here."

Tess scoffed at her male partner's words, a smirk on her face saying otherwise from your tense anxiety of meeting new people.

"Tess, hey," you grabbed her arm ever so softly as you trailed behind her, and she looked toward you, "Are you sure we can trust these guys?"

A tiny smile formed on her face as she recognized your nervousness. She thought it was adorable and sweet how you went to her for comfort at any point in time. It warmed her heart and made her feel important to somebody again.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Frank wouldn't hurt a fly. Bill on the other hand.. he might be a bit standoffish at first. From what Frank said, I'm sure he'll warm up to us with time. Don't worry."

Tess rubbed your arm up and down a couple times, hoping it would soothe your worries. As she did, your face broke out into a small smile, nodding before you dropped your grip and continued walking. You could get lost in the hazel of her eyes like it was hypnosis, or something close to that. The way Tess made your world stop by even being in your presence was something entirely familiar to you, and it kept you up at night, pondering about the simplest things.

It seemed the little town of Lincoln, Massachusetts was surrounded by this perfect bubble of safety and security. Like a dream, the familiarity of a place as different from the QZ.. felt a bit unreal. You never thought you'd have the chance to make friends in a world with infected, much less one with access to such a large range of supplies in a deserted town, highly protected by its sole residents.

The feeling surrounding you was oddly similar to how you felt around Tess, her warmth and beauty heart-warming, much like a hug.

Your focus is brought back to reality as you almost bump into Tess's back, her and Joel had abruptly stopped walking.

"Oof- sorry Tess-"

"Y/n.." Joel says abruptly, not realizing they're both holding their hands out to the side, the cocking of what sounded like a gun putting the realization into place.

"Shit.." You whispered, stepping out from behind Tess, arms out in the same fashion as your partners, and you realize there's a man holding a gun out at the three of you.

Then, from the house the man stood in front of, another man came running out. He calls the name of the man who's holding his pistol at you, Bill.

Which means.. that's Frank. You thought to yourself, as the sweater-wearing man approached and tried to beckon the other man to lower his weapon.

"Bill, these are the people I met over the radio. We can trust them.. they aren't going to hurt us. Put the gun down, please? I don't want to scare off people we could potentially be working with.." The man named Frank said with a chuckle, almost having to force the gun down himself. After another moment of brooding stares being passed between Bill and Joel, he lowers the gun and places it in his holster at his thigh.

Your hands drop to your sides after freezing with them out in the air due to fear. It wasn't the first time someone's pointed a gun at you, but it sure as hell was one of the times you thought someone would actually shoot. Relief washed over you as Bill's arms lowered.

"Perfect, thank you," Frank says to Bill, before wrapping his arm around the man's shoulder, "Welcome to our home, I'm Frank, and this is Bill. I'm so glad to finally meet you guys. We have a lot to talk about! Come on, follow me."

Frank had a home-like smile that was warm and welcoming. It was the first time in a long time you'd seen anyone smile like that. So carefree. You guessed it was the effect of not being behind the walls of a QZ for too long. That, or Frank knew how to stay true to himself in such a rugged, rough around the edges world.

The uncomfortable gaze Bill shot your way made you realize that it probably took a lot for him to even agree to let the three of you come into their town, much less want to work with complete strangers.

While being led back to Bill and Frank's home, you can't help but marvel at everything around you. Lincoln was much different than the QZ and open city; a town quite literally frozen in time from when it had been evacuated. A place like this was one you dreamed of settling down in, with a partner before the outbreak; it seemed like the perfect place to do so. Quiet, quaint, and bare of any infected or dangerous militia and resistance groups.

As their home came into view, it was exactly as you thought it'd be: another one of the huge houses a place like suburbia always had. It was one of the biggest you'd ever seen, almost out of a storybook. Except for the leaves blowing through the streets, it was as if the house hadn't aged a day. Everything about their home and its surrounding yard looked as if it had been tended to regularly; a mowed lawn, bushes with budding flowers, and not a single area of chipped paint to be seen.

"This is our place, I do my best to keep it looking its best and Bill... well he's just one hell of a cook. Aren't you, dear?" Frank turned to Bill with a smile, only to look away from his lover and back at you three.

"It's true, one of the many things I'm good at. Including defending my home." Bill's hand went to the gun strapped on his thigh.

"Yes, of course you are. Now, could you whip us up some lunch while I get to know our lovely guests here?" Frank turns his head towards Bill again.

"But-" Bill begins to speak, wanting to name all the reasons he doesn't want to leave his lover alone with strangers. Though, you notice Frank is quick to reassure Bill that everything will be alright.

"I'll be fine, I promise. They aren't going to hurt me, I've been extra careful with who I talk to, you know that. These people aren't dangerous. At least not to us." Frank's smile breaks Bill's resolve, trusting his lover enough to retreat into the house with haste.

Now alone with Frank, he guides the three of you over to the table on their lawn. You sit down next to Tess on your right side and Frank on the left.

"So.. Tess, I assume the lovely man you arrived with is the famous Joel Miller?" Frank turned to Joel with his hand out, receiving a firm handshake and nod from the Texan man.

"And you must be..." He turns to you.

"I'm y/n, the secret.. not-so-secret third partner." You laughed awkwardly, feeling somewhat out of place with the man and woman.

"That's right, I've only heard your name a handful of times, but it is so nice to finally meet you in person." Frank read your nervous state like a book, giving you peace of mind with a warm smile. Your nervous state diminishes when Frank's words set in, easing a smile onto your face and raising your eyebrows in slight surprise.

He's heard of me? I wonder what Tess's told him...

"It's nice to meet you too, Frank."

The four of you conversed with small talk, only butting in here and there to add something in, mostly keeping to yourself and not wanting to make the wrong impression on Frank. Tess and Joel discuss the details of a trading business between you all.

Soon enough, Bill began to come out with plates and silverware, to which Frank jumped up to help with setting the table.

"I can help if-" You started to speak, feeling a little guilty at not doing anything to help out as a guest.

"No, no. Sit, relax. You're our guests here, and I'm sure your trip has been long and tiring. Besides, it's been a while since I've set the table for more people than just me and Bill, and it's something I've always loved doing." Frank's kind smile once again eases your worries. But you swore to yourself you'd find a way to repay them for this.

You nodded as the two men made several trips to set the table, appreciating every little thing they added to it one after another. Spices, napkins, fine china plates and silverware with no scratches or rust on them. It was all a marvelous sight, one that reminded you of the old world and missing little things like this in times like these.

The amount of objects they'd placed on the table made you forget just how many of those material things you realized living without was doable. Even if you wished there were more aspects of the old world in the present one.

Fiddling with your thumbs again, you listened in to Joel and Tess's muttering about whether or not they could convince the two males on agreeing to work together, until you heard an exclamation from Tess.

"Oh my god.."

Your head jolted up towards the woman, about to ask her the reason for her outburst, until you picked up what had caught her attention.

The smell of fresh, hot food surrounded the three of you, hunger scraping at the edges of your stomach, making it even more evident that your last meal hadn't been as much of a hearty one as you'd wished. Dishes with meat and vegetables were all neatly placed in the same portion sizes as Frank and Bill put each plate down.

Before you dug in, you heard a familiar pop of cork from what you could only assume was a wine bottle. Sure enough, as you looked at Frank, the bottle he'd brought out resembled one you'd buy for a nice meal like this.

It wasn't until you heard the same cocking of Bill's pistol that you froze in your place. You watched as he placed it on the table for you all to see, a statement of protection and untrustworthiness he clearly still saw in the three of you.

Maybe not you or Tess specifically, but Joel, most definitely.

You decide to ignore the firearm's presence on the table, and begin eating the food that's so delicately placed on each of your plates. Instead of scarfing it all down like some rabid animal, you savored each bite of the flavorful, nutritious food and sip of wine like it was your last.

It might as well have been, since you had no idea whether or not you would be working together.

You wondered how people even ate on china plates that were as delicate and prettily detailed in the most extravagant ways. The silverware and wine glasses were also detailed and etched in such a beautiful way. It made you appreciate the smallest things before you had to go without them again.

A while passes, and everyone's finishing their food up. Light gusts of wind flow through Tess's hair as you look over to her, holding the glass of wine in her hand.

"Well, this really is just-- it's amazing." A slight smile on her face brings warmth to your chest, heating your body despite the cool air.

"Right?" Frank looks from Tess to Bill, who still has his pistol on the table, "Can you not please?"

He reaches over Tess's glass to fill it with the dark red alcohol, then reaches over to yours to do the same as you smile at him.

"I'm the same way," Joel states, understanding where Bill's actions are coming from. You realized in that moment that Bill and Joel are more alike than you thought.

"Oh, you're a paranoid schizophrenic too?" There's a slight chuckle that sounds out from you and Tess as Frank speaks.

"I'm not schizophrenic." Bill suddenly retorts, knowing the validity behind the methods to his madness.

Tess clears her throat, attempting to break the awkward tension that's so clearly grown between Bill and Joel.

"Well can I just say, gun aside, which I get, by the way, how nice this is to have a civilized meal in such a beautiful place? It's been so long. I mean it, I just- I wanna thank you. Even if we don't end up working together. I really needed this."

Her words seemed genuine, a slight twinge of silent and repressed pain in what she said. You only knew an extent of Tess's emotional wounds, ones she pushed down to do her job better.

As Frank lifts his wine glass to Tess with a small smile, he states, "We are working together."

The two clink their glasses together, making you raise yours to do the same.

"Cheers." Tess and Frank clink their glasses, and then Tess turns to you in the same fashion, quickly lifting your glass to clink together.

You all finish up your meals, occasionally glancing over to Tess with appreciation that you got to share something this special with your best friend.

And then the realization hit you, she was only your best friend, and you'd wanted to be more with her since she'd revealed a different side of her to you throughout the years. It was a kind, warm, caring side of Tess that made her feel like the familiarity of those strawberry candies that were hard on the outside, but soft, sweet and gooey on the inside. Tess was rough around the edges, but when she was alone with you were the times she revealed a softer side of herself.

Frank hadn't glanced anywhere other than Tess and Joel, picking up the way they discussed with one another, as if they were good business partners and friends. He'd been blinded by the fact that you sat furthest from Joel, barely even glancing his way for a split second.

The moment Frank gets a good look at you at the table is when he picks up on the way you look at Tess; it's different than the way you look at Bill and Joel, and by god does it open his eyes a mile wide. He only hides it behind his all-knowing warm persona and recognizes a light in your eyes that he saw similarly in Bill's the minute before he'd kissed him, that one day in 2007. Three years later, he saw that same spark of light in you, whenever your eyes glazed over to the only other woman at the table.

The warm younger man looks to his partner, who's anything but, to reassure you all again.

"We are." A moment passes as he sips from the wine glass and speaks again, "You know what? Let's go inside. Tess and y/n, I wanna show you something."

Frank begins to stand, lifting his wine glass from the table, Tess following next before you stand as well.

"Oh yes, it sounds amazing, I'd love to see inside." Now more sociable with the two glasses of wine in your system, you catch your balance before pushing your chair out from the table.

"Actually, I have been wanting to see inside, thank you."

Your words and Tess's overlap at the same time, chuckling a little at the synchronized movements and words between you and the older woman.

"Bring your wine. There's more inside."

"No, not inside. Frank.. Frank!" Bill's voice echoes from the table, as Frank holds the front door open for you two.

You're looking down at your feet as you walk up the porch and into the house, unaware that Tess was glancing back every few seconds to see if you followed. As you step inside, you wipe your boots off on the mat and Frank shuts the door behind him.

Your eyes finally pull away from the mat you've wiped your boots off on, to the inside of Bill and Frank's home. A deep breath of air fills your lungs to the brim as the sight of it all is a bit overwhelming.

"Wow..." you sigh, Frank stood behind you, Tess a few feet ahead, "I haven't seen anything like this in so.. long..."

You trail off as the sight of it all renders you speechless. There's candelabras with fresh wax from candles and picture frames with black and white photos. The image of inside makes it feel like a home, something you haven't felt in a very long time.

"Come on, it's right over here." Frank speaks out loud to the both of you, only you're still standing a few feet in front of the door, as the two walk into the open room just right of the stairway.

"Oh wow, look at these photo albums! I haven't seen one of these in forever.. Are they all Bill's?" Tess's voice carries to you from the other room, noticing her slight chuckle as you gaze over to where she's flipping through one of the albums.

"Yeah, yeah they are. Just don't tell him I showed you.." The two continue to giggle to themselves over the old pictures.

"Oh my gosh, I didn't even notice the extensive vinyl collection.. You know, I used to have a turntable back in college. I'd play the same old records every day, annoyed the hell out of my roommates.." Tess chuckles as she talks about her past life, something you always enjoyed hearing about when she brought it up.

With you, she could bring up anything from her old life, and you'd listen to every word.

You still had the suspicion that she and Joel had a thing going on, and your not-so-little crush on her was doing more harm for you than good in that aspect.

Tess and Frank are looking through the collections of vinyl and photos while you nonchalantly watch from afar, eyes glazing over to the massive shelves of books. Most of the ones on lower shelves were Bill's books on survival and guns, but the ones resting on the higher shelves were classics.

Before the outbreak, you'd been a sucker for those. There was something about the art of classic literature, the subtext and deeper meanings under every word. The beauty of those stories was unmatched.

I'd love to read one of those over some wine.. Matter of fact-

"Hey Frank? Where's that other bottle of wine?" You call out to him from the doorway, with your glass still in hand. Frank glances over to you from a few feet away.

"It's in the fridge, wine opener is uh- somewhere in there. You'll find it."

"Okay, thanks."

You finally break off from the two, eyes glazing over every single picture Bill and Frank have of themselves in their home, as well as the paintings Frank's done of Bill and himself.

Striding into the other room, the kitchen was in a state of what looked freshly used; pots and pans were everywhere, the scent of once heated oil lingering.

Your curious eyes peel over all the older pictures, then notice one in color that's stuck to the fridge with a rainbow magnet.

A twinge in your chest comes as well as joy for the two men that happened to find each other among a world of infected and dictatorships.

You just wish it would have happened to you already.

Bill must have had some vintage cameras lying around, ones Frank knew how to use, or learned to use for things like this. You crouched closer to look at the picture of the two men, bodies pressed together and hands clasped in each other's like they never wanted to let go.

And in such a world, why would they want to?

You pull the refrigerator door open, spotting the unopened bottle of red wine in the door. Reaching for it, you read the label, Beaujolais.

Huh, fancy name for a wine. It'll get me drunk all the same though.. Now where is that damn cork opener?

You're rummaging around in the kitchen drawers until you finally find it, oblivious to the fact that Tess has walked up behind you in your haste to find the damn thing. Her grey shirt is unbuttoned, with a white tee underneath. She always had the simplest style, but it didn't stop her from looking fucking stunning in anything she wore. Tess makes her presence known to you, arms folded across her chest as she leans against the doorway. Picturesque light chestnut strands of hair frame the soft features of her face.

"Whatcha got there?" your body whips around, wine bottle and opener in each of your hands (and almost slipping from them), to which Tess smirks a little at the sight.

You were surprised to not have heard the sound of her boots on the wooden floor, but Tess always had a way of surprising you like that.

You smile sheepishly, raising the bottle and wine opener in both your hands. Truth was, Tess popped in at the perfect time; you could never get the hang of opening things like this.

Opening bottles of liquor for you was always Tess's thing, since you didn't have the skill or strength for it. Your hands were just naturally smaller than hers as well, which meant it was only a job for a person with bigger hands.

How you wished you could hold them.

"Just in time. Could you open this for me? It's more your thing than mine.. Please? Before I drop it or something.."

Tess strides towards you and grabs both objects from your hands. She inserts the opener into the cork and twists until the similar pop from earlier indicates she'd removed it, the wine's aroma filling the area between you two.

Her strength was so attractive, the way she could make the simplest things such as opening a wine bottle look hot. The veins in her hands protruded when her grip strained, making you wonder what her hands would look like doing different things.

Tess lifts the cork to her nose, smelling the wine more intensely now, looking angelic as she breaths it in. Then, she lifts it to your nose, the gesture so familiar to you, but yet you've never seen Tess in a moment like this before.

The scent of the liquor paired with how Tess looks in the sunlight peering through the window is intoxicating in itself, as she places the bottle on the counter. Glancing outside, the golden light began to fade fast, darkness approaching quicker than you'd like it to.

With a smile, you walk over to the countertop and pour yourself another glass of wine.

"Thanks... you'll have to teach me that sometime." You couldn't tell if the flush on your cheeks was from the wine, or the gesture Tess just did for you.

"Yeah, but then what would you need me for?" Tess cocks her head to the side, a slight smirk on her face again. That damn smirk.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed.

As if I could ever go without you, Theresa.

"Oh, please. I'll always need you, Tess."

"Right.. So, Frank said we could stay the night, since it's more dangerous to travel when it isn't daytime. Our visit was longer than expected.." Tess's eyes move from you to outside, where Bill and Joel were still sat, discussing in what looked like a more civilized way than earlier.

"They have enough room for us?" You asked, sipping at the red wine.

"Yeah, they've got two extra bedrooms. So, I figure you and I could share one and give Joel the other room for himself. Plus they said we could use their shower," Tess shuffled closer to you and lowered her voice, "I hear they have hot water.."

Your eyes widened at the thought of a hot shower, something you hadn't realized was accessible anymore. Though, before speaking, you cleared your throat to minimize any indication of nervousness in the fact that you and Tess would be sharing a bed tonight.

"You sure you wouldn't rather room with Joel? I.. move around a lot in my sleep."

A confused look displays itself across Tess's face.

"I mean- I wouldn't want you to wake up with me on top of you or.. anything.." A nervous chuckle erupts from your chest as you laugh your awkwardness off.

"I think that second bottle of wine is what I should be worried about, not your restlessness." She smirks again, "But have fun with that. I'm gonna go wash up. Talk later?"

You only nodded, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of your best friend any more.

As Tess left the room, the strain of your journey finally set in. Soles of your feet began to twinge with pain, carrying you to the next room with the wine bottle and glass in hand.

You saunter into the living room, the amount of wine you've consumed making your cheeks, not to mention your whole body, flush with heat. The weight of your figure flopped down in a corner of the room as you placed the wine bottle down.

You gulped at the rest of the liquid in your glass, putting it on the side table. Gazing around the room at all the vintage items in perfect condition, your eyes meet the tall shelf of classic literature once again.

Pulling yourself from the chair, you pick up the bottle of wine by its neck, instead of pouring yourself another glass.

They're not gonna miss one little bottle... they've got a whole vineyard to themselves.

It's then you hear the front door open finally, Bill and Joel coming in, their discussion a little lighter than the one they were having earlier. You hear a chuckle fall from Joel in his Texan accent and your eyebrows raise.

Wow, they're finally getting along. Maybe we will have new business partners after all..

You stumble over to the bookshelf, about three glasses of wine making your bodily strength diminish with every sip you took. You were in a more tipsy state than usual; not having drank alcohol for years had more of an effect on you than it usually would.

The higher bookshelves are littered with dust, not having been touched since who knows when; you're just tall enough to drag your fingers across the top shelf on your tippy toes, the one below it littered with the many classic stories.

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, Little Women by Louisa May Alcott, Lady Chatterley's Lover by D.H. Lawrence, Emma by Jane Austen.

You read the titles off in your head, fingers trickling over the necks of each hardcover novel, stopping at Little Women and pulling it from the bookshelf. You also grabbed Pride and Prejudice, planning to ask Frank or Bill in the morning to borrow them till your next visit.

Slumping over in the chair again, you open Little Women, pages crinkling as the smell of the vintage book hits your face. It almost makes you sneeze, but you stifle it and begin reading.

You're mumbling to yourself in the little cozy corner of Frank and Bill's house, perched in a red armchair, and it's the most domestic you've ever seen yourself be in a long time. Granted, you were becoming more intoxicated with each gulp of the bitter alcohol you ingested. It floods your insides with warmth, your train of thought sidetracking from the story in your hand to the thought of the gorgeous woman that was Tess Servopolous.

She felt like home, the sweet smile she revealed to you your favorite thing about her. Her hardened exterior cracked and withered away bit by bit with every day you lay in her apartment healing from your injuries.

You're pulled out of the daydream when footsteps descend down the stairway, until the figure turns the corner. Frank's face comes into the warm lamp light, silently walking into the room and fiddling around with a few things before making his way over nearby where you sat.

Over the edges of the book, you watch him grab a few logs of firewood, placing one in the brick fire pit, before lowering your eyes back to the book. A few more minutes pass of his fidgeting before you realize the fireplace has come alive with flames of light.

Waves of heat flood the room, completely bringing your attention away from the book in your hands.

"No way..." Your voice draws Frank's eyes to you.

"Way. You know, my favorite thing to do in the fall is make fires.. Bonfires, campfires, any kind of natural warmth feels so home-like and safe. Don't you think so?"

"Yeah.. my childhood home had such a nice fireplace like this. It's really nice to see and feel again after so long." The two of you share a smile and look at the fire. Flames crackle and burn high, popping at times, the same way it used to before. Silence is adamant throughout the room, clutching the novel in your arms as the flames continue to burn.

"So.. you gonna tell me what's got you slumped over in a corner reading classic literature? I can't imagine it's that riveting.." Frank's tone tells you that he's joking, but you can't help from being at least a little offended in your drunken state.

"Classic literature is actually my favorite genre of novel, for your information. And you wouldn't get it…" The irony of your words slaps you in the face the minute they manifest themselves because.. Frank does know what it's like to feel the way you do. He’s just still in the dark about it.

"Hey, hey. You can tell me what's going on. I may or... may not have any experience on what you're going through."

Then the realization sets in that he's probably felt the way you do his whole life.

It's at that moment you decide to trust him. You close the book over, and look Frank in the eye.

"Okay, but this stays between us. Promise?"

"Of course."

A sigh leaves your chest and you begin to tell him how you feel about a certain one of your smuggling partners.

"Tess saved me... however many years ago it was... I can't remember how long it's been now. I've just always been around her since then. She's done things for me and- and I've done things for her... But I never knew why I always wanted to be around her.. until one night when I had a really, really rough day and she comforted me. I never wanted to leave her arms, and that's when I realized.. I liked her. She's my best friend, Frank.. What would I do if she doesn't feel the same? I don't think I could live with myself if I ruin our friendship because of some stupid fucking crush."

You finished speaking, letting out another sigh like you'd just thrown up all the thoughts reverberating in your head the second you made it out of the QZ walls.

Frank's silent until he speaks, analyzing and connecting dots in his head about this afternoon and the way you'd been acting.

"All that... doesn't sound just like a little crush to me, hon. You love her.. and you want what's best for her. Protecting yourself from the hypothetical hurt of her not feeling the same is valid.. but you're not gonna know how she feels about you if you don't tell her. Take the night, and think on it. Or... go ahead and keep on reading your classic literature while the love of your life goes to sleep upstairs. I'm just saying, if you don't try, then what's the point?"

The next time you look Frank in the eyes, they're filled with kindness, and you can tell he sees you for who you really are. There's no hiding your true self around him, he reads you the same way he read Bill the day he fell in that hole in the ground.

"You know what, you're right. I'm gonna take the night to think about it, thanks, Frank. I don't know what I'd do if I was alone in this."

Frank places his hand over yours in a compassionate and friendly way. He understood where you'd been coming from, especially with the way you both were.

The rest of your night is spent cuddling up under a blanket Frank had placed over your legs before he headed up to bed for the night. The wine drunk put you in an exhausted state, eyelids as heavy as weights until you ended up falling asleep curled up in the chair, fire dwindling away to nothing but embers.

A nudge to your arm slightly pulls you from your slumber, wine bottle abandoned on the floor from earlier. The next thing you feel is a strong grip lifting your body from the chair. With a groan, your arms flail weightlessly to the side, as you're picked up bridal style, the creaking under the wood indicating you were being carried up the stairs.

It's probably Joel who's lifted you like this with no effort at all, no chance it was Frank or Bill. Tess was already asleep too, and once she rested her head, there was no waking her. She slept like a rock.

You figure you're finally up the stairs as the steps steady, pushing the door open silently to the dark bedroom. Finally, you're placed down onto the soft bed, boots being tugged from your feet and placed on the floor. Rolling over a bit, you groan at the comfortable state of the bed.

Already comforted by the blankets, the heat of your body diminishes in the cool, dark room, as you doze off to sleep for the night.

As morning peeks through the shades of the cool bedroom, a pounding headache rammed behind your skull as your eyes inch open. Fluttering profusely, your pupils adjust to the rays of sunlight slowly, head still spinning.

Groaning at the pain, your eyes shift from the window to the side table, where there'd been a glass of water and two pills of Tylenol placed next to a small piece of paper. You sit upright in the bed, truly unable to recall the events of the previous night. The only thing you remembered vaguely was that second bottle of wine, one you regretted even picking up.

You reached for the note, headache only pounding harder as you attempted to read it.

For your head, since you really thought that second bottle of wine was a good idea. We've got breakfast made when you feel well enough. - Frank

It's at that moment you realize your mouth is bone dry, concluding on the fact that you hadn't drank one drop of water last night. As if a desperate plea for the quenching of your thirst, you drop the note in your lap abruptly, gravitating towards the very full glass of water sitting just a foot away.

The liquid slides down your throat as you desperately gulp it down, only stopping for a moment to pop both Tylenol into your mouth. After finishing the glass of water, you look down at the note again.

Signed Frank, but I've seen this handwriting before. Somewhere.. My hungover brain cannot remember right now for the life of me.

A yawn breaks through your chest, your hand instinctively going up to cover your mouth. When the smell of your breath hit your nose, it became apparent to you that you should probably take advantage of the hot and running water in the home.

Quickly, you threw the covers to the side, glancing down at your legs, body covered in the same clothes as yesterday. You didn't even dare attempt to sniff those articles of clothing, knowing how sweat stained they had become on the hike yesterday.

Yeah, you really needed to shower.

Standing from the bed now, you reach over to grab your bag, when you realize you've left it downstairs. Only when you look around the room is when you see a plain grey t-shirt sitting on the arm of a chair.

Tess's shirt, no doubt.

You pick it up and hold it in your hands, the scent of her sure enough surrounding your head.

As tempting as it would be to head back to sleep, you walk over to the bedroom door, opening it to the hallway. It seemed there was nobody remaining upstairs, evident due to the light conversation coming from downstairs. Your socked feet patter across the hall, peeping around a corner before b-lining straight for the bathroom.

Placing the clothing on the countertop, you reach into the shower and start the running water. As it slowly heats the small room, you stride over to a closet, pulling it open to find an abundance of everything you could've ever needed to bathe in the world before. Shampoos, conditioners, body wash, shaving cream and razors.

Wow, these guys really know how to keep inventory. They won't mind if I make use of some of this stuff, I definitely need it more than they do right now.

Steam fills the bathroom as you pull each article of sweat-stained clothing from your body, landing all together in a pile. As you pull the curtain back and step in, the warm water washes over your work-weathered body, goosebumps rising at the comfortably warm liquid.

It was euphoric, the temperature of clean, filtered water paired with the privacy of the shower.

You can only stand still as the dirt and other liquids patter to the tub floor, bringing you lighter in mood and vibrance as well.

As you scrub your scalp with the shampoo, the events of last night finally return to you.

Reading Little Women, admitting how you felt about Tess to Frank- the decision you told him you'd take the night on and think about.

You caught your head in your hands as embarrassment for yourself washed over you, much like the warm water of the shower.

"Ughh, I can't believe I told Frank that stuff.." Although you didn't regret it, not completely. The chat you had actually made you feel better, getting it off your chest after so long of holding it in.

You just wished it would be that easy to tell the person of your affection.

The spray of water from the shower ceased as you turned it off, stepping out onto the bath mat and wrapping a towel around you.

Regrettably, you had no other clothes to change into, so you pull on everything you'd worn the day before, except for your shirt. You put on the grey one for now.

Yep, it definitely smelled like Tess.

Pulling your cargo pants on, you stride out of the steam-filled bathroom, and your feet lead you into Bill and Frank's room.

Though you feel it's trespassing on an already stepped-over line, you head towards their closet, quickly opening the door and taking in the massive amount of flannel shirts hanging there.

Frank had impeccable taste in clothes, deciding to yank one or two of the darkly colored button ups from their hangers. You took a pair of socks as well, since yours had holes in them from their constant use.

You thought about not telling Frank about your thievery, but it's going to become imminent when you walk down the stairs with his shirts in your arms. So you shove them in your bag once you find it resting next to the bed.

Heading back into the guest bedroom, you pull the fresh pair of socks onto your feet, beginning to reach for your black boots sitting on the floor. Reaching down for one, you hear a knock at the door before you can grab it.

Quickly, you stride over to the door, expecting to see Frank or Bill on the other side with a message from your partners about hurrying to leave or something along those lines.

To your surprise, the face on the other side of the door is Tess.

Shit, Tess. The person you promised Frank you'd confess to last night over a drunken conversation.

She looks well rested, wearing a different shirt than the one from yesterday. It's a dark green, that compliments her eye color and the wisps of her caramel hair framing her face. Her hair is in that half up-half down bun, the rest of it resting behind her shoulders.

She looks fucking perfect, and you look like a wet dog, hair still damp from your shower.

"Hey, morning. How'd you sleep? I uh-" Tess is pulling at her collar awkwardly, standing in the same fashion as your eyes finally trail down to what she'd holding in her hands.

She had a plate in her grip, covered in freshly made, very appetizing breakfast foods. Some so freshly made, there was still steam coming off of it.

You're thankful in this moment to have taken those Tylenol earlier, or else the smell of any food whatsoever would've sent you hurling over the toilet like a hungover sorority girl.

"Oh my god, Tess. What is all this?" Your eyes widened in surprise, the smell catching your attention even before you had seen the plate of food in her hands.

"Well, you need a big breakfast for the journey back to Boston today, and I figured you could use it after last night.." A chuckle breaks through her chest, head dipping downwards before looking at your freshened state.

"Come- come in." You move aside for Tess to enter the bedroom, assuming you'd slept alone in here for the night. As she places the tray down on the bed, you sit down, Tess standing a few feet away.

"Tess, did you make this? What the hell- This looks amazing.. Eggs, sausage, hash browns? These are all my favorites.. Seriously, thank you. Wh-what can I do to make it up to you?"

"Well, first of all, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. And second of all, don't thank me, thank Bill and Frank, it's their food I cooked. Consider it a hangover cure. Once I get so drunk that I fall asleep in an armchair with a classic book in my lap, then you can pay me back. It better be a damn good breakfast." She chuckles again, in that low voice that keeps you up at night when you think about it.

The way it says your name, her low tone when she curses under her breath, the way she sounds in the early mornings when the sun still hasn't risen and she's drowsy enough to not make any sense in her muttering.

Tess went through all the trouble of making everything she knew you favored, the mere thought of her thinking about you as she cooked it all only made your enamor for her grow stronger, a fire of love burning behind your chest for the woman in front of you.

It's then she takes a seat on the bed with you, watching as you poke into the eggs and begin devouring the food on your plate. She wasn't leaving, by the looks of it.

In the middle of chewing your food, you speak again.

"Did Frank tell you I passed out down there?"

Her grin becomes larger now as her eyes move from the plate of food to your face as you consume your breakfast.

I wonder what else he told her. Hopefully nothing I haven't yet...

"No, I'm the one that found you, silly. Carried you up the stairs and put you to bed myself."

You continue chewing as your eyes widen, another realization from last night coming back to mind.

It wasn't Joel carrying you, it was Tess.

"You carried me up the stairs? Wow, I'm gonna have to start lifting weights if I have to do the same for you."

While you speak, you're enjoying every morsel of this delicious food Tess has made you, and you're grateful for her in so many more ways than you could express presently.

"You better," Tess says with a scoff. A couple more minutes pass by as you're finishing up the food on your plate. You notice that she's still sitting in the room with you, taking your silence as a sign of comfortability around her.

"So, what's up, Tess?" You say, shoving another fork full of hash browns into your mouth.

"Well, I came to check on you, since last night Frank told me you were drinking a whole 'nother bottle of wine by yourself.. and reading classic literature? For fun?" She laughs.. "I figured you might be hungover this morning and wanted to bring you something to fill your stomach. I can't have you fainting on me when we hike back to the QZ, now can I? Gotta keep your strength up, hun."

The name melts your heart a little and you smile. It was such a simple thing, one that indicated she cared about your wellbeing and didn't want to see you unwell.

"Yeah, always gotta be nourished and shit. Just human things, I guess. Though, a meal like this never gets old." You said with a smile.

It became more difficult to hold back the thoughts of holding and kissing the woman before you, her green button down shirt just aching to be pulled in order to kiss her. Those perfect hazel eyes of hers that resembled gems when they hit the sun just right, getting effortlessly lost in them every time they locked with yours. Her hands that completed her daily tasks so beautifully, with such care and concern in everything she did making you think she'd hold you the same way, love you the same beautiful way she did everything in her life with.

"I'm guessing you're feeling alright, then? Tylenol helped?" It was cute that Tess was still worrying about how you were feeling from the night before. Putting the fork down finally, you looked up at her.

"Yeah I- Wait, how'd you know I took Tylenol?" You hadn't mentioned anything to her about taking medicine.. so how did she know?

"Well I uh- I just.." She scoffed lightly before continuing, "I asked Frank to leave some by your bedside earlier and I was really worried about you, since yesterday. You don't drink like that unless something's bothering you."

Her eyes focused on you, hair lightly spilling over her shoulder, and she's in the moment with you now more than she had ever been. It's almost like she's reading you when you glance up again, pulling at the collar of your shirt.

"I know, Tess. It's just-" you sigh, thumbs fiddling with each other, palms beginning to prick ever so lightly with sweat.

"You can tell me anything, you know that right?" Her voice was sweet and soft, lowering a bit to hopefully ease your worries. One of her hands grabs yours, and the sensation is enough to make the breath in your lungs hitch.

If there was any perfect moment to confess, this was it.

"Tess, there's something I need to tell you." A slight quiver of your voice tells her that this thing that had been bothering you clearly meant a lot. You keeping things from her wasn't a common occurrence, which only happens when something was beyond frustrating for you to talk about.

"Okay, what is it?"

You're infuriatingly beautiful and I want to kiss you right now.

"It's the fact that I'm over here pining like an idiot for you and you can't even see it.." You mutter, not wanting to look Tess's way for fear of judgment or rejection. She notices, and in that very moment she longs to see the fire in your eyes burn its brightest. "It's the fact that- that I love you, and you probably love someone else.."

"Someone else?" Tess scoffed, "And who do you think that is, huh?"

"I don't know.. Joel, maybe.." Head still hung, your hands shake slightly, chest filled to the brim with uneasiness and anxiety.

Was it just you, or did the temperature in here get hotter?

"Y/n, look at me." You hesitate for a moment, then slowly your eyes move from their locked position on your hands.

Tess's hands are fidgeting in her lap too, you notice.

The second you lift your head, the glossy state of your eyes catches her attention, and her face eases once you're looking directly at her. Tess's bottom lip catches between her teeth for a moment, and she glances down swiftly, then back up at you.

"Joel and I are nothing but friends, you understand? I don't want him, never have." The words hit your ears and it's as if a weight lights off your shoulders.

It's the most clarifying moment that makes you giddy to spill everything onto her lap.

"Tess.." you breathe, closing your eyes for a moment and making a decision, "Please don't shoot me for this..."

You begin to lean in towards her, eyelids hooded as you glance down to her lips, watching intently as she does the same. It feels like an eternity before you're close enough to pick up on her natural scent, consuming your brain and going fuzzy upon the close proximity.

A warm tingling fills your hands as they brush over Tess's thighs and hover just over the dark denim covering them.

Once, twice, three times you glanced down at her lips, pausing to drag your eyes across her flawless face.

"Are you gonna kiss me, or what?" Her snarky tone pulls your eyes back to gaze into her hazel ones, almost getting lost in them before getting the courage to do something you couldn't come back from.

"Shut up," You say, before your hands grab onto her collar, and pull her lips to yours. Her kiss takes your breath away, crawling into her lap, collar of Tess's shirt still in your grip. Sparks flicker in your chest, and they're coming off of Tess's as well, deepening the kiss with another push of your lips against hers.

The weight of you in her lap pulls a groan from the woman opposite you, separating your lips from hers. You almost couldn't pull away, but the thought of hurting her made your worry jump a mile high.

"Shit.. Are-are you okay?" Tess gives you another peck on your lips, before trailing her eyes down your face and neck. The smirk on her face makes the heat from your cheeks travel down your torso.

"Oh, I'm better than ever... you wanna know why?"

Nodding your head fervently, her hands trail up your shirt to your collar, watching as her pupils dilate around the hazel in her eyes. The grasp on your shirt is tight, even tighter when she beckons you impossibly closer to her. The next moment, she's pulling your lips to hers in another passionate kiss. Your lips are pressed together for so long, it feels like you're out of breath by the time she pulls away.

"It's because I love you." The three words fall from her lips like a siren beckoning you with its song. Her voice has never sounded more perfect, and when she says those words to you, it's an indescribable amount of joy that fills your chest.

Her panting is an indication of not being able to breathe, but she doesn't fucking care if she got to kiss you like that.

"You love me, too?" Out of curiosity, you ask again, just to make sure it registers in your brain. Disbelief makes your heart jump, even though you've just kissed her, and you never wanted to stop.

Even though she told you she felt the same way, it was still a dream.

"Of fucking course I do. Ever since I took care of you, those few months you were living in my apartment. How could I not?" One of her hands trails up your face, brushing some stray hairs obstructing her view, so she could look at you fully.

The woman you've pined after for years has loved you all the same, and the realization feels a lot like you've wasted so much time behind a closed door. Sleepless nights went by with you writing about her in your journal, detailing all the ways you would love her if she only loved you back.

Tess adored you, she just hadn't let herself show it or feel any other way than a friend, and she'd been terrified to lose you if she fucked any of that up. The years and years of pining built to this very moment, tension in the room thick as you gazed at her lovingly.

"Tess.. kiss me again..."

It was a desperate plea for that fucking woman to press your lips to hers so you could taste her even stronger than you thought you could handle.

"I don't think I'll be able to stop if I do." Her low voice made your legs tremble, a new kind of desire growing due to her.

"Then don't." Your lips clashed together with hers, tongues exploring each other's mouths in a feverish attempt to taste even more of you than she already had.

The truth was, she had all of you for a long time, and now she couldn't imagine needing anything more.

A soft moan is pulled from your chest as Tess's teeth nip at your bottom lip. The both of you seem breathless as you pull away again, but every time you glance down at her swollen lips is when you want to just press them to yours over and over again.

"God, you're so beautiful, it's hard to look directly at you sometimes." Her words catch you off guard, feeling your eager hands travel up her neck, one resting on her shoulder while the other sneaks your fingers between her soft strands of hair. Twirling a lock of it, the blush on your face makes her smirk.

"Stop it, I mean just look at yourself. You're so hot and intimidating and perfect and-"

"You saying you're not those things?" Her brows furrow in distaste, because how dare you suggest otherwise.

"I'm saying you are. Pretty girl." A giggle erupts from your chest, raking your fingers through her hair with appreciation.

"If you don't say you're all of those things right this second, love, I'm just gonna have to prove it to you. And you know I will."

Your eyebrows raise, wanting to pull a little sneaky trick on her.

"Say that I'm what?" The smirk on your face makes Tess blush a little, chuckling to herself because she knows exactly what you're doing.

"Say that you're..." One of her hands goes to the top button of your shirt and unbuttons it as she places a quick peck on your cheek, "Perfect, intimidating, hot, everything I want.. God, fuck. Look at what you do to me.."

Her nimble fingers trail down your shirt, undoing each button carefully, letting the shirt fall open to your sides. Hands rest on the skin of your sides, just under the shirt you're wearing. Her shirt you're wearing.

"Tess.." You sigh breathlessly, still trying to gain back whatever air was pulled out of your lungs just a moment earlier.

"Hmm? Tell me what you want, baby." She tilts her head ever so slightly, the smirk on her face only enlarging when she sees the desire in your lust-blown eyes. Her pet name all but pulls a squeal from your chest, scrunching your nose upon hearing her low words.

"I want you, Tess. God, I want all of you.. But we can't-" Your hands run up and down her sides, shaking ever so slightly at her intimidating smirk.

"We can do anything we want, sweetheart. I've got you, now. No one's gonna take you away from me, ever. And no one's taking me from you. Got it?"

It's so warm, so Tess, such a loving and nurturing side of her that spills those words into your chest like a goddamn golden light, and it brings tears to your eyes. Sniffling, you try to blink them away every second they threaten to fall from your eyes.

The close proximity of her immediately pulls you into a safe hug, tears dropping on the cloth of her shirt, dampening the fabric bit by bit. Her hand rubs up and down your back, comfort surrounding you in the moment like nothing else in the world.

"So-sorry, Tess, I didn't mean to get your shirt all wet," You say, pulling back from her embrace, "I'm just.. so fucking happy because I love you and- and you're finally mine."

The words come out like the easiest thing in the world, like you could tell her your deepest darkest secrets and she'd still love you completely as you are.

"Aw, you look so pretty when you're in love. 'Bout the most perfect thing in the whole world to me, pretty girl."

"Well, yeah. It's all your fault that I'm crying like a sap, dummy." You playfully punch her shoulder and wipe your face, tears finally ceasing their descent from your eyes.

"You love me that much, huh?" This time, Tess's smile is sweet, intimate and all but this time your eyes lock with hers in a deep gaze.

"Love you even more than that, Tess." A giggle erupts from your chest as her lips press ever so lightly to your neck, ghosting feather light kisses across your skin. Before she pulls back, she attaches her lips to your skin and sucks obsessively, in the same spot. A particularly sensitive spot she gets to pulls a whimper from your chest, the sound making her pull away from kissing you, eyebrows raised with curiosity.

"What was that, baby?" You whimper again, embarrassment washing over you while your cheeks are being painted with a blush.

"Need you, Tess. Need you so bad.." The last word comes out rather quickly, hips rolling against hers ever so slightly.

"I'm right here, honey. Tell me what you need from me, and I'll give it to you." Her words come out like a plead, work-worn hands and fingers trailing over the waistband of your pants. "Come on, we don't have much time. Joel wants to get on the road soon.."

Oh God. Joel. Bill. Frank.

Your thoughts freeze and think to the three other men in the house, or probably somewhere nearby, if not lingering just a few feet away down the stairs.

"Shit, should we-"

"Yes, my love, we should. After all this time, we should."

"But the door-"

The bedroom door; it was swung almost completely open.

"Guess you better be quiet then." She mutters, voice low with lust and the need for you to fall apart for her just once before their travels.

"Tess-" You whimper breathlessly, and before you can speak another word, her lips attach to yours again. Her hair smells like lavender, and her lips taste like strawberries.

"Do you trust me?" She asks, wanting to know you're okay with her going further.

"You know I do. I trust you with my life." You reply, almost immediately. Her soft eyes gaze into yours and she nods.

It's the most perfect vision of Tess you've had your entire life, and nothing in this world could tear you away from that.

Once you feel her hands unbuckling your pants successfully, one of her hands slips down under the fabric, bypassing your underwear right down to where she knows you need her.

Her middle and ring finger slide through the arousal between your legs, and the second she feels you throbbing against her, is when her kisses trail from your mouth to your neck.

"Tess, fuck-" You whimper out, as her fingertips swirl around the most sensitive part of you.

"Needy girl, aren't you? So gorgeous..." The smirk on her face turns devious when her eyes meet yours again, catching how your face contorts with pleasure under her doing.

Another mewl leaves your chest, nodding fervently once again.

"Shit, all wet for me? You really know how to make a woman happy.." The slight laughter from her chest makes you clench around nothing. Nothing, until her fingers pursue lower than your sensitive bundle of nerves. Deep breaths of air make your chest heave, and Tess is only relishing in the way you're falling apart completely for her.

Before you feel her fingers prodding at your entrance, your hand grabs her forearm and she halts her movements.

"What about you?" Your eyes seem to beg for her without saying another word more, and she hesitates for a moment, until she speaks.

"You don't have to, love. You feeling good makes me feel good and-"

She pauses her words, because your doe eyes make whatever was left of her resolve break, the instant she looks into them.

"Alright, baby. Go ahead, touch me.. I need you, too." A smile breaks out onto your face, hands gravitating towards her belt, undoing it as fast as she can complete her sentence to satisfy you.

One of your hands slips down between her legs, watching as her eyes close in bliss at the first light drag of your fingers down her heat.

"Fuck.." Her head gets thrown back while her eyes shut at the amount of pleasure and love you have for her in that very moment. Tess curses under her breath as you begin slow circles on her most sensitive part of her body, goosebumps trailing all over her skin.

"Now who's the needy one?" She glances back up to your eyes, and just like that, her intimidating demeanor returns.

You almost yelp aloud when she pushes a finger inside of you, but her lips press against yours before you could do so. The fervent exchange of moans between each swirl of your fingers, and each thrust of Tess's fingers inside of you makes the moment feel infinite.

Everything you've ever wanted, you finally had.

She was yours to touch, to hold, to please. Tess gave you all of her, completely and irrevocably.

"Tess.. fuck, I love you.. I- never wanna be with anyone else but you.." Your tone of voice is pitched higher, submerged in the pleasure she brought. She could tell you were inching closer to release with every swirl of her fingers.

"I love you, baby. With everything inside of me. It's you. Only you.. Now be a good girl and come with me."

"Are you gonna-"

"Yeah, I am. Fuck- keep going, just like that. Cmon, baby." The hand that wasn't inside your pants snuck up to your hair, grabbing a handful and pulling in silent demand.

Sighing dreamily, Tess pulled her fingers out of you and rubbed incessantly at your precious bundle of nerves, triggering your hips to rock against hers.

"Tess.." You moan out loud, almost too loud for the people downstairs to hear, but at the same time, you don't care. Not when Tess is giving you the most pleasure you think you've ever experienced in your life.

"I love it when you moan my name.. Say it again." Her fingers swirl to no end, feeling a jolt of pleasure wash through you as your high began to rush towards you.

"Tess, fuck. Oh my god Tess- baby I'm gonna come.." Your sounds are uncontrollable now as your release is beckoning you further.

"Yeah, hun? Gonna come for me?" Your hand speeds up your movements on her sensitive bud of nerves, another low moan leaving her chest, dripping with desire.

"Oh, baby, I'm-I'm.."

"Me too baby, yeah..." Tess calls out, her movements on your clit pushing you over the edge, her high washing over her intensely.

A few more filthy moans leave your chest, release crashing over you like a wave, running throughout your body with relief, your partner helping you ride it out before you finally look back up at her.

Sweat adorns her skin, chest heaving as she pulls her fingers from your pants. You do the same, only watching as she licks her fingers seductively. Another wave of pleasure threatens to overtake you, just by watching her do that.

"Holy shit... that was amazing. I knew your hands were good for more than just holding a gun and punching people." Your head tilts back the slightest bit as you try to catch your breath after the immense pleasure washed over you only moments ago.

"For our first time, that's nothing compared to what I've been thinking about doing to you for months now.." The smirk on her face threatens the rise of arousal again, though you're too exhausted now to even think about doing that, with what a long journey you've got ahead of you.

"You-" Tess raises an eyebrow at your speechlessness, "are the most beautiful woman in the whole world, and you chose to love me. Isn't that something."

Your words make her blush again, leaving a few small pecks on your cheeks, before pressing one to your lips again. Then, Tess's hands reach to your pants once more, doing the zipper up and buttoning them so she could do the same to hers.

"Well, I don't think we choose who we love. But if it was.. it's because you're the most perfect person in the world. Isn't that something.."

You look to Tess with a soft smile, one that makes both of you appreciate the domesticity of your conversation at hand.

"Yeah, it is," You say, taking her hands in yours and interlocking your fingers together, "So, what does all this make us?"

You catch Tess staring into your eyes again, and it takes a second for her to respond.

"Well, I'm already in love with you, so whatever you want, I want it too. I'm all in, for you. That sound good?"

God, you've waited forever to hear those words.

Attaching your lips with hers, it's a slow, soft kiss, almost stopping time with how you craved more every second that went by. As you pull away, Tess looks radiant in the sunlight that's pouring through the window even more now.

Her words turn you speechless, already knowing you called her 'mine' but hearing it from the velvet voice of your lover made your heart swell ten times bigger.

"It sounds wonderful, Tess." You lean in for another kiss, soft and sweet, until you pull back again, "You'll have to teach me how to open wine bottles, though."

"Nah, I think I'd rather just keep doing it for you." Your lips locked in another kiss, one you wished would last forever.

"Oh, one more thing," Tess goes digging in her back pocket, pulling out a blue tube, "Deodorant. You stink like sex."

"And whose fault is that?" You quip, grabbing the tube from her and rubbing it under your armpits.

Tess shrugged, almost pulling you in for another kiss, until the sound of a male voice from downstairs snapped both of you out of the daydream.

"Shit, Joel. He's gonna be mad that I took so long up here.. that-that we took so long-" You begin to speak, pulling yourself from the bed, reaching down to slip your boots on.

"Joel Miller is not gonna say anything when he sees that hickey." Tess mumbles, standing from the bed as well, adjusting her shirt from where you'd grasped it before.

"What mark? Oh, Tess.. you didn't.." You rush over to the mirror hanging on the wall, and pull your collar to the side abruptly to see the darkening purple bruise on your neck. You scoff, only buttoning up your shirt with haste to get out the door.

"I did. Couldn't help myself, you know. You're all mine now, had to make sure everyone in Boston knows you're spoken for."

She walks up behind you, placing her hands on your hips as you continue buttoning the flannel up. You scoff, flipping your head around to kiss her on the lips again.

"Yeah, well did you have to make it so dark?" You questioned, knowing she could've gone lighter but didn't.

"You already know the answer to that. Now c'mon, let's not keep the man waiting." Tess pulls you by your hand to the door, looking back once more as you exit the room and walk down the stairs with her hand in yours.

Just as you thought he'd be, Joel was pacing downstairs with his pack already on his back.

"There y'all are.. was starting to get worried about- Oh." The tall, Texan man clears his throat when his eyes spot the mark on your neck, eyes immediately avoiding yours.

"Yeah.. I'll grab our packs and meet you outside. Cool?" Tess says, before sharing a look with Joel, not saying anything more as he turns to walk out to the front yard. Her hand slips from yours every so slightly, and you already miss the warmth and love in her contact the second it drops from you.

"Hey, wait- where's Frank?" You call out to Joel, but he's already to the gate of their yard before he can hear you.

"In here!" Frank's voice comes from the living room, and you saunter over to him.

"Hey, morning. Listen, I wanted to thank you for everything. What you said to me last night, and just your hospitality and all you're gonna help us with when we start working together. I mean it- I'm really grateful."

Frank looks up from the vinyl he's sifting through, and meets your eyes with a compassionate smile.

"I take it this morning went... well?" He gestures to the mark on your neck, one of your hands going up to sheepishly cover it, a bit embarrassed that you let her go that far.

"Oh, um. Yeah, very well. I did that thing we talked about." As soon as the words hit his ears, he's grinning from ear to ear and throws his arms around you with a tight embrace, one that caught you off guard, but you hugged back, nonetheless. The smile is still beaming on his face as he pulls away.

"I knew it would go well. You two.." He shakes his head, hands on his hips, "Sparks were basically flying over lunch yesterday, every time one of you looked at each other.. Wait- Is that my shirt? Nevermind, keep it. Looks better on you anyway."

Frank laughs at the realization that you didn't have fresh clothes after showering, so he understood.

"Seriously, thank you. For everything, again."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm such a matchmaker. Now go, run to your lover, and never let her go, okay? She's one special woman."

"Yeah, that she is.." Your gaze shifts from Frank to Tess appearing in the doorway with your pack in her hand.

"Oh, one more thing." Frank hands you the books you'd taken down from their shelves last night, Little Women and Pride and Prejudice. "Don't worry, Bill said it's alright. He doesn't read classics, anyways. You'll come back, and we'll trade."

That's the last thing Frank says before Tess beckons you back to her.

"You ready to go? Joel's gonna lose his marbles if we make him wait any longer, so.." Tess asks you, standing a few feet away, but it felt like miles before you could get back to her.

"Oh, God forbid a man wait on two fine ladies, such as yourselves." Frank says, turning Tess's way as you walk towards her, grabbing your pack from her hand and putting the two books into it, before slinging it onto your back.

"You make a good point, but he's gonna be grouchy the whole hike. He'll be done with our lovesick asses once we get back to the QZ." You say with a giggle, pressing a quick kiss to Tess's lips.

"Well, it's been lovely having you here, I'm not sure where Bill's run off to, but I'm sure he says goodbye as well. I'll walk you to the gate, since there's an idea I have as to how we can communicate back and forth on the radio.. I'll tell you on the way."

Frank follows you both out the door, spotting Bill already at the gate, the same holster with his pistol sticking out from his otherwise plain outfit.

As Joel finally spots the three of you coming from the house, he darts right out of their front yard, b-lining for the gate.

"Guess he's got a new friend..." You mutter to Tess, Joel's steps bringing him towards the gate faster than you three were walking.

"Maybe he just doesn't wanna look at the huge hickey on your neck." She retorts, her reasoning better than anything else you came up with.

Chuckling, you nudge her side, hands falling beside each other's before locking your fingers together again.

Frank catches up, walking alongside Tess as he begins to explain his idea for communication back and forth.

"So, I had this idea that we should use codes for the radio, in case anyone's listening."

"That's a good idea. Like, with what?" Tess tilts her head over to the man in curiosity.

"I was thinking, like, the decades. Like- 80's, trouble, of course." Frank states, as if he's put immense thought into something as simple as this.

"Yeah..?"

"70's- for when we get new stuff to trade with.. and 60's for not having anything new. Sound good?"

"Yeah, Frank. That's actually really clever. I mean, I wouldn't have thought of that. Right, babe?" It's the first use of any pet name around people, and you can tell it puts Tess in a lighter mood just by hearing you say it.

"Right. Well, radio back to me when you guys are ready to start our business together." He reaches out to shake Tess's hand, "Otherwise, it has been lovely having you three here, and I'm so ecstatic to have you back whenever." Frank stood still, watching you all walk ahead.

The sound of Joel's boots on the pavement approaching you all force you to turn your heads towards the third partner in your group.

"What are y'all lookin' at? Let's head out, already. Whenever you lovebirds are done.."

Grumpy exterior, but an ally, all the same.

"What are we gonna do with him..."

"Yeah, he's not nearly as much fun as you." Nudging her shoulder again, your bottom lip catches between your teeth for a slight moment. Tess's hair is blowing in the wind slightly, and you can't help but smile at the beauty of the woman you called the love of your life.

You share a look between Tess's eyes and your own, before tugging her along as you walk ahead, attached by a soul tie at your hands, linked together for a lifetime.

#ryesff #devnmon writes #tess servopoulos #tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopolous x female reader #tlou fanfic #tlou #lesbian #lgbt #other characters for exposure:#Joel Miller #Ellie Williams #The Last of Us fanfiction #tlou smut #The Last of Us #anna torv #tlou hbo #pedro pascal #bella ramsey

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devnmon · 1 year

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Written in My Stars Masterlist

Summary: A man named Daryl's world changes drastically when a virus wipes out half the world's population. Coming from a history of trauma and unrequited love, Daryl Dixon copes through the end of the world by writing in a leather-bound journal, as he tries to find tranquil in a world that is everything but. When his plans with his older brother go out the window, he finds himself conflicted as to whether or not he'd be better off alone. How can the end of the world make a man like Daryl feel things for a person, for people, he never thought he would?

Daryl Dixon x Reader Slowburn

A/n: I've never written a series before, especially one i intend on making very long [the length of the show basically]. This fic will be written mostly from Daryl's point of view and the things he experiences, but there will also be times when it shifts to reader's point of view (pov). The journal entries of his will precede events of each day in the twdu. Reader insert in this story is an oc, with their own backstory and things about them that will be revealed as the fic goes on.

Though I am writing reader with my own thought process and analyzation of how she would act or would look like, please feel free to use your imagination as to how reader would look in your mind. [Reader is you, of course]. That being said, I will not describe reader with any sort of highly specific detail, rather than a few other traits i have already written into reader's character.

Warnings: typical twd gore/violence, mentions of past abuse, scary situations and trauma, [smut eventually... it's going to be a while, sorry], Daryl being shy but also an asshole]

spotify playlist

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Reader pronouns: she/her/they/them

Pinterest Board [for a better view on the aesthetic of the early seasons of twd and little things about the story. just a little cute thing you guys can look at for fun!]

Season Masterlist

Season One: The Camp at Quarry

Chapter Masterlist [1-9]

Each chapter will be out every other Friday at 3pm EST!! [on hiatus currently]

#written in my stars ff #daryl dixon x reader #devnmon writes #ryesff

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devnmon · 2 months

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save who you can save // t.s.

A prequel to Long Long Time, detailing the first time the two met.

pairing: smuggler!reader x tess servopolous slowburn

Summary: One of your smuggling deals goes wrong– almost deathly wrong. A stranger decides you're worth saving.

word count: 12k

warnings: descriptions of several injuries, reader gets beaten up, non-sexual nudity, tw for random guys in the qz, physical assault, mentions of blood, death, drugs, and typical tlouverse violence... reader is mid 20's, tess is early 40's, tess gives reader stitches (but it's ok they're unconscious), mentions of tess's past, tess and joel aren't a thing in this, but he is an asshole for the better part of the fic [lowkey enemies to friends w/ joel]. pining (a lot of mutual pining oh my god guys.) also pls don't come at me for inaccurate qz stuff, this is fanfic. nonbinary pronouns used the reader is afab! also this fic starts in readers pov and ends in tess's and i just realized that so don't hate me for it! xx

a/n: happy valentines day GAY PEOPLE. this is for you guys. and all the tess fic lovers. here is my prequel of Long Long Time that i wrote a little over a year ago when tlou hbo came out. i pour my heart into each and every fic i write. this is my child, be kind with her. i hope you all enjoy and don't forget to reblog to support your favorite creators!!

That day she found you, beaten and bloody with several injuries, was the day she had quite genuinely saved your life.

You never should’ve made this deal.

Becoming a smuggler required more skill, more cunning –more than you had. Somehow, you’ve ended up right where you never thought you’d be: on the sour end of an unstable client.

You knew your stock wasn’t as satisfying as the client demanded, but the amount of ration cards seemed too good to be true. It happened to be– regrettably you’d been a fool to try and weasel out of the deal without repercussions. Nothing was ever that easy in this world.

The first thing you felt was the end of a very sharp knife pressing into your back. Then you heard his voice in your ear, speaking punctually.

“Where do you think you’re going? Nobody gets past me. Not even you. I let you think you’re good at sneaking around. But I see everything.”

Your breath hitched as his grip pulled you backwards into the alley. Once you turned away from the main road, you were met with another man, one you knew accompanied another man you dealt with often. He was dressed the same, and had that classic sketchy-guy look that told you exactly who’d approached you this hostile.

It was a particularly unstable client, one you hesitated to continue business with due to his poor self-control. He was a junkie through and through, just a man too weak to settle into this world, needing a constant escape. You had unfortunately promised him a supply you didn’t have, and things escalated too far soon after.

There was no reason to call for help either; it would be that easy for him to rat you out to FEDRA for selling pills. Even if those same soldiers were frequent customers of yours. Your voice had gone hoarse and the cut on your lip swelled enough to make it hard to speak.

You couldn’t decide what was worse, the fact that you never saw this coming, or that nobody would be coming to your rescue.

Crack.

Your shoulder was slammed into the wall with enough force that you toppled to the floor. Followed by multiple kicks to the stomach and sides, with not even a second’s notice. Your lunch felt closer to coming up with every rough kick of their boots into your torso.

The amount of stock wasn’t nearly as close to what the client demanded, but his ration cards seemed too good to be true. To be fair, you weren’t cut out to be a smuggler; you were a fool to try and weasel out of the deal without repercussions. It was never that easy in this world.

Your knuckles scraped against the blacktop like sandpaper while attempting to stand, painted crimson while your skin ripped. When your vision went double, then triple, squeezing your eyes shut alleviated the pain for just a moment.

Other than the blood you felt gushing from your hands, the throbbing in your head and torso made it difficult to move without immense pain. Weakened by several blows to the stomach, your legs finally gave out. Your ankle twisted the wrong way as you fell, while your palm caught on a sharp piece of rock, scraping it enough to burn. You were damned if you tried to yell for help.

You huff a breath, before a sharp pain stopped you short, coughing up blood that pooled in your chest. On all fours like a dog you were, with the two men standing above you muttering to themselves.

Mercy, they called this having mercy on you.

Some form of laceration cut deep enough to drip red hot blood down your forehead, and there was no doubt you had several more covering your body by the way everything burned. It dripped down your face and made everything blurry.

Coughing hoarsely, you somehow found the strength to pull yourself off from the prone position, finding a wall to sit up against. Each time you moved, it felt as if your body was getting ripped apart. Your bones felt like glass, your skin like paper. Blood gushed from a slash on your arm, and your stomach had taken one too many blows to pull yourself to your feet.

How the fuck did this happen?

You had been traveling through the QZ during late afternoon, around the central hob of trading. In the midst of the zone's chaos, you ducked into an alley as a shortcut, which was your first mistake. Minutes later, you had been roughly attacked from behind, and thrown against the wall with one motion.

“You got our pills, bitch?” Two sets of feet pointed toward you while weakened.

“I need more time,” you breathed, convincing yourself more so than the man in front of you, “My dealer’s stingy with his supply. I can get it out of him, though. Soon.” Your arms raised at your sides, knowing how many people secretly carried knives around the QZ. There was no way you were taking that chance.

A pair of hands grabbed the collar of your shirt, lifting you up so you could hear them clearly.

“We want the rest of our pills. And a pack of cigs. End of the day tomorrow. Or you’re all the way dead. You hear me?”

The other man approached, unsheathing his blade and immediately pressed it to your cheek, standing not even a foot from your body. His blade was forced onto your skin so hard that it drew blood, and you called out in pain.

“End of day tomorrow. The usual spot.” The one holding your collar said pointedly.

A fast nod of your head paired with the incessant throbbing of his words within your mind had you struggling to comprehend anything. He released your collar, which resulted in you toppling onto the ground once more. The blood you coughed up afterwards stained your shirt, wiping it away with the sleeve of your flannel.

You’d survived the chaos of outbreak day, almost running yourself into the ground trying to escape everything. That was the day you knew this would be a life of running, until you arrived in Boston.

You weren’t sure about the Quarantine Zone at first. But then you saw a bed and pillow to sleep on every night. No more camouflaging yourself in the backseat of a car or suffering drastic temperatures and hoping you wake up not frozen to death the next day.

To be fair, you tried to sign up for work shifts, but manual labor was never for you– especially not when it was shoveling shit, or transferring corpses to burn in fire pits. That kind of work was not how you intended to live out the rest of your life.

That was when you landed on smuggling, since people had to be desperate for some kind of relief after taking orders from soldier douchebags all day. You probably would’ve been better off in the academy, not taking shit from a weasel of a dealer whose name you forgot, but whose ponytail you remembered. You’d gone from risking your life every day in the open world, dodging the swarms of runners underground to being forced into risking your life trying to make the junkies and downright miserable people of the QZ happy.

Now, you’ve accepted that you were going to slowly bleed to death in this alley. Part of you wanted to resist, but the idea of not having to deal with anything like this ever again. It would just be that much easier to close your eyes and succumb.

You whimpered at the pain running through your leg, a patch of maroon seeping through your jeans. Too weak to put pressure on any of your own wounds, you let your eyes close in defeat. The voice at the back of your head protested, wanting you to get up and fight for your life. But you just couldn’t.

Eventually the air got cooler which you noted meant the sun had gone down, and you were in and out of consciousness. Warily, you opened your one good eye, spotting the patch of blood that had spread further from the gash on your leg. The sight made you queasy, so you closed your eye again and went back to unconsciousness for a while. It was the lone way everything stopped hurting, and bliss once you floated into it.

“Psst. You alive?” The words rang sharp in your head with an ache so bad you couldn’t focus. The nudge at your foot woke you a bit, pulling you to consciousness slightly. No reply earned you a slightly harder kick to the leg, which shot another stinging pain up your leg. You groaned and your body moved a bit.

Is someone there?

Footsteps crunched against the blacktop, getting slightly louder.

Fuck, please don’t hurt me, please, please..

“I’m just gonna check your pulse, so if you can hear me, don’t freak out.” Your head moved an inch weakly, unsure about this person being so close to you. A low groan of discomfort came from your chest, alerting the woman you were conscious.

“Hey, hey. I’m not going to hurt you. Just needed to know if you were alive.” The voice was low, and it sounded feminine through the ringing in your ear.

“H-help… me…” You managed to speak, your mouth and tongue tasting like iron.

The woman went silent for a moment, taking a look over the state of your injuries.

“You’re pretty fucked up, honey. God, what piece of shit did this to you?” She picked up on the multiple gashes on your body, staining your clothes, and your shoulder was visibly out of place.

You decided to open your eyes to see who was crouched next to you. It was no use, your vision was still spinning from earlier. Sharp pains drummed against your head and obscured your ability to see. The one sole thing you could make out was someone with long, light colored hair and a dark pink shirt, but you kept looking around to see if your vision would come back.

“Shit. I’ve gotta get you out of here. Just- just hold on. Name’s Tess, what’s yours?” You picked up on her moving about, unzipping what you assumed was her pack.

You mumbled again, still unable to speak clearly.

“Right, dumb question. So, I’ve gotta stop your bleeding, and your shoulder looks dislocated. I can only do one of those things right now, and then we can get you someplace safe. That means I’m gonna have to put pressure on your leg. Okay?” Her words came out matter-of-factly, and she seemed like a true survivor of this world.

You begin to protest, moving slightly away from her and moaning with distrust.

“Look, I promise, I will get you out of here. But I can’t have you leaving a blood trail through the streets. Alright?” She asked, and you hesitated for a moment, but nodded slightly.

“Okay, this is going to hurt, but I need you to keep it quiet so it doesn’t attract soldiers. Can you do that?”

Immediately, you shook your head no, and you heard the woman mumble to herself while she shuffled through her bag.

“Here, bite down on this. It’s a clean rag, and I promise that if you scream, it’ll be a hell of a lot quieter than if you didn’t have it.” She raised the rag up to your lips and waited for you to open your mouth. Somehow you trusted her to let her put it in. If this were some other old injury, you wouldn’t be giving an inch. But you happened to be on the brink of death right now, and you realized she’s probably saving your life.

“I’m gonna put pressure on your cut now.” You heard her rearrange herself to be crouched over on the other side of you. With both her hands, she pressed down firmly on your wound. The stinging pain that died down earlier came right back when her hands made contact. She noticed your wound gushing through the first bandage in her hand. You groaned loudly into the cloth, grateful for its existence.

“I know it hurts…” The woman spoke again, “Just hang in there. I’m gonna wrap your wound, and then once we’re safe, I can stitch it up.”

You begin to protest, borderline trusting the woman in front of you. Then you realized, she was the only one here.

"Look, I need to get you out of here. Need to get us out of here. Soldiers are gonna be swarming the streets all night, and it's almost sundown. I can take you to my place, and I’ll have a better chance to take care of you there. I know you probably don’t trust me, but it's the least I can do."

Considering the current situation, you didn’t have much of a choice.

“Do what you… h-have to..” you muttered weakly.

The pressure on your wound had lightened, while one of her hands rested on it as she used the other to grab for her bag again. She met your eye level for a moment, glancing up to survey your state. She went back to wrap some gauze around your thigh, tying it tighter than you would’ve liked, even though you knew it would help your wound begin to heal.

“Okay, I think the bleeding stopped. You poor thing, let’s get you out of here.” You watched her zip up her pack and shrug it onto her back, while grabbing yours with her other hand.

“It’s probably gonna hurt a lot if you try to stand, but we gotta get you up one way or another.” You felt her at your side, slipping your left arm around her shoulder. She had already noticed the sharp inhales you were taking upon moving from your spot.

“Here, lean on me. I’ll carry you. Just keep breathing, honey.”

The minute she began to lift you was when you knew something was really wrong with your other arm. It tingled all over and your shoulder ached something awful.

“‘M t-tryin’– it hurts…” had been uttered under your breath with another whine of sharp pain as your body moved with hers.

“I know. Shhh, Shh. Hey, Just put one foot in front of the other. You’ve got this.” Something about her voice was calming you, and it almost made up for all the pain. The two of you begin walking, slowly at first, testing out your strength for the journey. It took a minute of tripping over your own feet to steady yourself.

“Promise we’re gonna get you fixed up, brand new.” She muttered under her breath, low enough so other people nearby didn’t hear.

Somehow her words kept you going, limp after limp. Tess made sure you knew when you had to take a step up or down, and kept you going the whole time.

“Yeah, you got it. We’re halfway there. Keep it up, doin’ great.” Her words reverberated in your head with an echo. You couldn’t see where you were stepping for the majority, but you trusted her to guide you. Another few minutes of walking had your body much more worn out than normal. Once she stopped at the side of a building, her arm went to push the door open.

“Here we are.” Tess kicked it shut behind you two, and balanced you against her body. The interior was warm on your skin, but somehow your body still shivered to its core. Inside, you could hear people shifting around, but the sounds blended together amongst your attempt to stay upright.

“I’m s-so cold…”

The strength in your body was draining with every step you took; you were ready to collapse.

“I know, but you gotta keep your eyes open a little longer. We need to get you up these stairs. Then we’re home free.”

You didn’t protest as she brought you closer, inching up each step carefully in order to not strain yourself. Your legs ached with every step, persevering to make it all the way.

The last step up the top stair drained the last of your stamina, evident by the way your fingers throbbed with each beat of your heart. You were out of it more intensely than when you had been outside. Your whole body was sensitive with some form of pain you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

Tess led you down the short hallway, stopping in front of her door. She fumbled with her keys, although the jingling chain sounded more like glass breaking in your head. The door flew open, and she brought you inside, tossing your pack to the side while tossing her keys in another direction.

“Alright, let’s set you down on the couch. Should be more comfortable than the damn ground.” Tess scoffed as she brought you over, keeping an eye on your limp. She turned you to the right, your bad arm on the outside of the couch as you were lowered down onto the cushions. When your feet were finally off the ground and your back rested against the pillows, it made a world of a difference.

“Fuck… I’m so tired. Everything hurts.” You stifled a groan, but Tess saw how much pain you were in. Your eyes scrunched together every time you tried to move and there were multiple patches of blood seeping through your shirt.

“I know. But I can’t leave your shoulder the way it is.”

“My shoulder?” You hadn’t the slightest idea what she was talking about, your arms felt fine.

No, it’s definitely the shock you’re in.

“It’s dislocated. Pretty swollen already, you must be in shock. And I already told you that I’d have to pop it back in. Before we left, you don’t remember?”

“No…” You mumbled, trying to recall; your memory was so groggy; you couldn’t remember half the day.

“Shit, you probably have a concussion too.” Tess reached to the back of her jeans, pulling out the same rag as before. “But I’ve gotta set your shoulder before it’s permanently damaged. It’s probably been way too long already.”

“How d’you know all this? Were you a doctor or something? Before?” Tess turned to face you, and you were able to focus on the features of her face for a moment. Her eyes were a light hazel color, and you could see little strands of grey peeking through her light brown hair.

“Or something… I did a lot to survive after the outbreak. Learned a lot more to survive the hard times.” Her words trailed off, and she went to grab something from another part of the room. Tess had collected an old shirt of hers, and came back over to you.

“Okay, so… I’m not good with pain clearly. Hope you still have that rag. Cause I’m gonna yell… or pass out. Either way, it’s gonna hurt a shit ton, and I’m gonna need it.”

Without a doubt, Tess pulled the rag from her back pocket for you.

“Got it right here. Kept it out of my pack cause I knew you’d need it again. This is gonna hurt a lot more than just some pressure on your cut.” She began tying the t-shirt together in a specific way, but you weren’t sure what she was doing with it.

“Shit. I know… I know. Just do it.” You groaned, feeling a slight tingling sensation in your left hand shooting upwards to your shoulder.

Tess set the now tied shirt onto the floor, as she kneeled down next to you. With one hand, she held the rag up to your mouth, and you bit down on it. Among the various other pains in your body, your shoulder was the worst of all. Taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself enough, Tess met your eye once she had leaned down in front of you.

“Ready?”

Wordlessly, you nodded your head. You were trying to keep calm, but the shock was wearing off and your pain came flooding back. One of Tess’s hands grasped your forearm, though you could barely feel her grip.

“Okay. One, two…”

Crack went your shoulder back into its socket with one swift motion. Just as she thought, you went groaning into the rag once again. Tess took her hands away and grabbed the makeshift sling she had tied together earlier.

“Does that feel better?” She asked, watching you spit out the rag. You took another deep breath in and out, surveying the current feeling in your arm.

“Yeah.” You weren’t sure if you believed it yourself, but for now you decided to. “Pain’s still there, but it definitely feels different. Better than before.”

“Good. Here, you’ve gotta wear your arm in this sling while it heals.” Tess lifted the tied up sling over your head, and it slipped on easily on once she had it situated the right way.

“Could I get those pills now? The idea of any kind of grace from the amount of pain I was just in sounds like a dream.” You tried to laugh, but a cough came up instead.

“Yeah. I’ve got Oxy, Hydro, Morphine…” She trailed off, not even knowing if you knew what she was talking about.

“Honestly, whatever you think will be best. I honestly don’t know anything about dosages very well, and I trust you. Besides, I just wanna knock out for the night. I’m fucking exhausted.” Your words slurred a bit, due to your swollen lip, but Tess heard you well enough.

“Alright, I’ll be right back.”

Instead of trying to keep your eyes open, you shut them again in an attempt to alleviate the pain in your head, but it pounded nonstop. You listened to Tess’s boots on the wooden floor walking around to ground yourself. A couple minutes later, she returned to where you lay on the couch.

You peeked your eyes open, and she’d crouched down with two pills in one hand and a cup of water in the other.

“Got you water to wash it down with, if you want.” Her cupped hand held two of the white pills and you raised your good arm to grab them. Patient as she was, you moved slowly.

There was no indication of any burdensome look on her face, which was odd– no one had ever been this kind to you before. You didn’t know how to feel about it.

Slipping the pills between your lips, you grabbed for the cup of water. It began to slip out of your hand the minute Tess loosened her grip.

“Here, let me. You’re gonna be really weak for a while, so just close your eyes and relax.” She said, to which she brought the cup to your lips with no hesitation.

“Now, while those pills kick in, I’ll see what I can do for your gashes and other injuries. All I want you to focus on is getting some sleep. You’re safe. I promise.” She touched your hand softly, then stood up and walked off to leave you space to rest.

Once you closed your eyes, you felt the exhaustion wash over you, though it finally felt good to rest again. A few minutes passed, and the groggy effect of the pills began to set in. You were out in no time.

In the meantime, Tess darted back and forth gathering supplies to fix you up; she’d sterilized a needle and thread to stitch up your leg, and took the last of her ace bandages out from her pack to use for your ankle. She grabbed the bottle of whiskey on the countertop, and brought what she needed over to you, couchside.

Before Tess took the needle and thread between her fingers, she cut away the area of denim that was ripped from your gash.

“Sorry, kid. I’ll get you some new pants.” To be fair, those jeans of yours were filthy with dirt and muck stains you’d never be able to wash out. Not to mention the blood that spread had well enough to become a large patch. She attempted to wipe up the dried viscera around your cut best she could, dabbing with the alcohol lightly to sanitize it. She’d counted on you being unconscious from the pills to start stitching up your gash. Hands steady, she looped the needle and thread through your cut, pulling it closed with each tie.

Though it wasn’t the most ideal situation for something like this, Tess had the experience. Stitching up cut after cut on the road for god knows how long, trying to keep moving forward, but somehow someone always got hurt. People kept dying, or turning– and that wasn’t even the worst part. Upon making it to Boston, she learned what it was to be calm under situations like this. To become cold. It got the best of her, more often than not; any idea of the old her was lost to dreams of the world before. She never looked back, never slowed down, never took even a moment for herself. Her routine was based strictly around finding the best way to get by in the QZ. The constant eye of FEDRA’s guards and firefly bombings were enough, let alone the mile-long lines for rations that were barely ever in. It was too much to subject herself to being controlled by an invasive military, especially after all she’d done to survive. Each person Tess left behind etched a sliver of her humanity off, chipping away the heartfulness she once carried with pride.

Save who you can save, the last words whispered to her by someone that sacrificed themselves so she could make it to Boston. Everything blurred together sometime after getting admitted into the city; by then, she’d worn down that kind version of herself into the ground. Possibly that same place where she heard those words before. Quickly, she gained a reputation with Joel by her side in the smuggling business of the zone. It paid well– better than hard labor all day for a cruel amount of flimsy ration cards, just to repeat the same thing over the next day. There was a respectable line Tess drew between the things she’d done in the name of survival, and things she strongly disliked doing.

Tess’s time in the QZ had only reinforced that rigid outer shell of hers, confident the softer, weaker person inside her was left behind for good.

She’d almost made it through the day without finding any trouble, but her path through the streets was detoured by FEDRA vehicles and it happened to be the quickest route back to her place. Tess’s steps were quick, aiming to make a b-line straight back.

Then her eyes caught the image of your thoroughly beaten self, and attempted to shut down the itch in the back of her throat she couldn’t quite scratch.

Just keep walking, she’d told herself. But her subconscious knew better. Then those words echoed lightly through her head.

Tess, save who you can save…

“Shit…”

She thought she’d forgotten them all. But time never does. Those poor souls lost to hordes of runners, clickers, stalkers– each one shoved down so deep inside, and the outside shell of her was simple glass.

Keep walking, just keep walking…. No–

She truly tried to keep going, but each step gnawed into her further. Remembrance of the ones she’d lost shattered the glass holding her back, and glued her feet to the ground in place. A quick curse had Tess looking back over her right shoulder, catching a glimpse of your unmoving body. She’d figured if this were a trap, others would’ve already surrounded her.

A deep sigh came from her exhale of a tightly held breath; her heart pounding against the inside of her chest, as if something about to burst. Any second thought of moving further had vanished, her feet pivoting against the concrete, toward the stagnant body lying soundless against the brick wall.

Darkness swallowed every corner of that alley; Tess was fortunate to even have seen you at all.

It wasn’t often she found herself stopping for anyone that needed help, let alone in the QZ. Underneath the swollen and crimson stained injuries, she saw a young individual subdued and unconscious from their injuries. That was the moment she’d called out to you.

Tess shook those pre-Boston nightmares from her mind, putting all of her focus onto fixing up your ankle. With the discoloration of bruises that covered your ankle, it baffled her how you were even able to trek as far as you had gone. Her eyebrows furrowed relentlessly, each one of your injuries more surprising than the last.

“Jesus, kid. What the hell did you get yourself into?” She muttered to herself, before grabbing the roll of bandages from her pack. Tess was so focused on getting your ankle wrapped, that she hadn’t heard the creak of the wooden floor from behind her.

“Tess… what’re you doin’?”

Unbothered by the voice, her hands kept working. Though, she knew she’d woken her roommate from his slumber. Joel Miller hadn’t thought this was what he’d be seeing at almost two in the morning.

“Wrapping an ankle, the hell do you think I’m doing?”

“Tess. who the fuck is this?” By the tone of his voice, she knew he was pissed. She dare not poke the bear this late.

“It’s uh… well, no. I don’t know. They couldn’t speak when I found them.” She’d finished securing the bandage around your ankle, and placed it back down on the couch.

“Do you even know their name?” Joel stepped towards Tess, his brow furrowed.

“Joel… they were lying beat up and bloody in an alley. I wasn’t gonna take the chance and leave them there to die.” She reached for the other pillow on the couch, and placed it delicately for your ankle to rest on.

“Well, did you even check their pack for weapons?”

Tess huffed a breath, and stood up straight, turning to the man.

“I was a little preoccupied making sure they weren’t bleeding out. Besides, they didn’t have any on their body. But if you insist…”

She took the moment now to move towards your pack she’d thrown into a corner earlier, taking out a notebook, some ration cards, and a couple bags of pills.

“What the fuck? Tess, this could be a setup.” Joel muttered, the tone of his voice unsettled by the situation.

“What? No. No fucking way, Joel. I’m telling you, they would’ve died out there if it wasn’t for me.”

“You’ve gotta stop tryin’ to save people that ain’t worth it. That’s how we’re still alive, why we’re here and the dead ain’t.”

“No, I don’t believe you. They’re unconscious and didn’t even see you, by the way. I think you’re fine.” Tess shook her head while she spoke.

“Well, it’s our business that goes to shit if you’re wrong.” Joel spat, beginning to walk back to his door.

“I don’t really give a shit. Not tonight. What I do care about is making sure this person stays alive. I couldn’t care less about distributing pills to junkies.”

She did care about the smuggling, just not as much as she did about keeping you alive for the night.

“Yeah, whatever.”

His door shut and locked, leaving Tess alone with you for the night. She collected herself after that conversation, preparing anything she might need throughout the night to treat you. Just in case.

Her muscles finally relaxed the minute she’d sat down in a chair adjacent to her couch. While she draped a blanket over her legs, Tess took one last look at you, studying your rising chest and calm features.

You’re gonna be alright.

Beams of sunlight painted the walls with a glowing warmth, cast across the older woman’s skin. Morning broke early, waking Tess before either of the habitants that resided in the Boston apartment. She’d always been a light sleeper, despite that it was loud most hours in the walls of the QZ. Living in Detroit her whole life had certainly accustomed her to it.

Her hazel eyes opened against the light, finding themselves staring upwards at the ceiling. Tess had woken up several times throughout the night, which had become a normal occurrence for her. Events from last night flashed through her mind as she rose from her slumber. Her slumped position resulted with an uncomfortable spot in her neck from the chair she’d been in all night. Tess sat up as best she could, grasping the nape of her neck for comfort. No matter how many times she tried to get rid of the pain, nothing relieved her. Defeated by the lack of sleep, she rose from the chair and looked over at you still asleep on the couch.

Rays of sunlight happened to catch right over your face, peeking through the blinds as they awoke you from rest. Yesterday had become a blur quicker than light.

Where am I? What happened to me? It hurts everywhere…

You shifted lightly with a groan, eyes still closed. A headache pinged at the sides of your temples, and you took a sharp breath out of reflex. You weren’t able to move your body freely; exhaustion had drained you enough. Out of the blue, you heard a female voice echoing in your ears. Your one good eye opened, and it took a minute to adjust to the light, along with any blurriness.

“Hey, you with me?” Her voice called out to you, unintelligible at first, but once you focused on the words more, you understood.

“Where… where am I?” You mumbled, attempting to lift yourself up. You didn’t know what was worse; not knowing where you were, or not being able to lift your body normally.

“Don’t try to sit up. You’re safe, but you’re too weak to sit up right now. I saved you last night, patched you up. Remember? My name’s Tess.”

“Not really…” you sighed, accepting your weakened state.

Tess knew it would take more than just one night to gain your trust; she also knew Joel wouldn’t be as patient. She crouched down by the side of the couch where you were, getting closer to make sure you heard her.

“So, I pulled you out of that alley last night, patched you up and kept you safe the past twelve hours. I think that warrants me your name.”

Your eyes glanced over her figure, the image of Tess still fuzzy. Considering all the factors, and the fact that you were still alive, you gave in and told her your name. Tess nodded contently and spoke again.

“Well, you probably have a concussion. But I cleaned and bandaged up everything else I could. Your left arm was dislocated, but I popped it back in last night. That’s why it’s in the sling. Don’t try to move it much, it’ll take a while to heal. As for your ankle, it’s twisted pretty bad. Bruised, too. You’re gonna be off your feet for a while.” Surveying the bumps and bruises you’d received, she set other supplies to the side on the floor.

You glanced down at your body, pulling back the blanket over your legs to find your stained jeans and the stitched up gash, with other bandaging around your ankle.

“You saved me? And bandaged me up?” You speak clearly for the first time, and Tess stopped in her movement.

“Yeah. You’re lucky to be alive. I wasn’t gonna let you die out there.”

“What..” you swallowed, “What happened to me?”

“From the looks of it, you were on the bad side of a shitty deal gone wrong. Like I said, you’re lucky to be alive.” Her tone was calm, and impressive to see in a situation that was anything but.

“You went through my pack?”

“I found you in an alley. Almost dead. Can you blame me?”

“Guess not…” you said, sighing and trying to sit up. With one arm in a sling, you were having trouble moving without anything hurting. The pills were wearing off little by little as time passed.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t do that. You’re gonna be couch bound for a while.”

“What? No way. I need to… I have business and shit I need to get done–”

“Don’t play coy. We know you’re a smuggler.” She shoved her hands in her pockets, pacing in small circles.

“Well, you went through my bag. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. Wait, did you say we?”

Before Tess could respond, a gray haired man emerged from behind her, jutting into the conversation.

“You’re real cocky for someone that almost ended up dead from one of your clients. For all I know, this whole thing is a setup for you to rob us, kill us, or somethin’ else. But I ain’t gonna take that chance. Not now, not ever. Are we clear?” His southern accent came out as he spoke, and it wasn’t often you heard a voice like his among the Boston streets. It was intimidating enough; you didn’t trust him.

“Yeah– okay, dude. Jesus, I don’t even know who you are. I didn’t know you guys were smugglers!” your voice strained while you lift your arm to gesture.

“Joel, I was the one that brought them here. Like you said, this is on me. And I’ve got it. Walk it off, Texas.”

The man named Joel walked backwards, dark eyes trained on you until the moment he turned around and left. He shut the front door in haste.

“Is he always that tense?” You ask, taking a deep breath.

“No. It’s not every day I bring anyone back to this apartment. Let alone someone who looked half dead, like yourself. No offense.”

“Yeah… Why did you save me, by the way? You could’ve just left me there. But you didn’t.”

“I told you… I wasn’t going to let you die. I thought you were dead at first, but I took the chance and saved your damn life. Is that what you wanna hear?” Your vision was still a little blurry, but you could focus on the woman’s features much more easily up close. You finally made out the face of your savior, Tess was a woman with light brown hair, longer than her shoulders but not too long. Her eyes were green, and there were lines on her face from time passing. With her stern voice, you wouldn’t know her face would look as calm.

“Well, thank you.” You admitted, half ashamed you even thought about staying there to die in the first place.

“You’re welcome.”

Just as the silence settled, your body became aware of every injury you’d received. A sound of discomfort slipped past your lips, furrowing your eyebrows together.

“Are you in pain? What hurts?” Tess began looking over the stitches she’d done the night before.

With a groan, you replied, “Everything…”

“Alright, I can give you a couple more pills for the pain. Uh wait– do you need to use the bathroom? I assume it’s been a while…”

“Oh, yeah. I think in my near death I’d been.. You know, going without the ability to control it.”

“Right… Well, I can get you a clean pair of clothes, but it won’t do any good if you’re wearing your own body fluids. Do you– would you like a bath?”

Immediately insecure, you realized how filthy you must’ve become, spending most of yesterday soaked in your own blood and urine. Quickly, you nodded while looking down, shame washing over you.

“Okay, Joel’s not gonna be back for a few hours. I can spare you some new clothes and underwear, but your boots I can just clean off later. I’ll re-wrap your injuries after, too. For now, we’ve gotta get you cleaned up.”

She lifted you from the couch dutifully and slung you over her shoulder to head towards the bathroom. Tess recognized your sounds of discomfort, a string of sharp breaths and muffled groans you thought she didn’t hear.

“Almost there. Here we go.” Her hip pushed the door open, sitting you on the chair next to the tub. Once the water was on and flowing, Tess found the right temperature and began filling the tub. She made her way back to you, and began to untie your boots, placing them off to the side. She took off your button down shirt, which revealed more black and blue bruising across your back and shoulder. You hissed a breath as she pulled the sleeve down off your left arm. Before moving further, Tess looked toward you with kind eyes.

“It’s okay. Don’t feel ashamed. It’s just hard now. But you’ll be alright… Can I continue?” Her hand rested on your good shoulder patiently. You nodded silently, realizing the intimacy of the situation and looked down at the floor.

Slowly, cautiously, and gently, she undressed you while the tub filled beside you both. Not only was your body covered in bruises and scrapes, but dried blood and other viscera had caked on a few layers. The bandages from last night were discarded to the side, fresh ones in the other room for when you were clean. She saw your reaction as you entered the water, your face contorted in both pain and pleasure while you sat. The warmth of the liquid against your torso was another level of soothing, flooding your skin with goosebumps and washing off some of the dried blood upon submerging yourself into the tub. Tess grabbed a washcloth and bar of soap, lathering it up before wiping it across your back.

“I don’t know how to thank you. This is…”

“You don’t have to say anything. And you don’t have to thank me. Please– please don’t thank me.” Tess knew this wouldn’t make up for the numerous people she’d left behind– left to die so she could persevere ahead. But all she had to do was goddamn try.

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you, sighing while she kept cleaning off your body. Her hands were soft against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. Though she was doing something as intimate as washing you, it didn’t bother you as much as it would have on any other occasion. She carefully avoided running over your scrapes and other open wounds, yet still washing them lightly with the soap and water. Before long, the water had become a dark brown color from how much had washed off of you. Tess began to drain the tub, keeping the faucet running as it drained.

“Mind if I wash your hair?”

It was just a simple question, but it sparked your anxiety a bit more than when she undressed you earlier.

“Uh.. sure.”

Tess washed out the tub with a bucket while you sat in it. She lathered some shampoo between her palms, rubbing it across your scalp with gentle fingers.

You couldn’t deny, Tess’s hands were calloused and rough, but they felt like heaven against your scalp. Rubbing the pads of her fingers into your head was somehow better than all the times you’d done it yourself. Eyebrows furrowed against the sensation, and you groaned lowly. You somehow alerted Tess, wondering if she’d pressed too firmly on your head.

“What happened? Does it hurt? Sorry if I’m going too hard–”

“No, it’s great. Keep going.” You breathed.

“Okay..” she chuckled a bit before continuing, then used the bucket to wash the rest out from your locks before applying conditioner. One of her hands grabbed the brush on the floor, slowly untangling the mess of knots in your hair. The warm water calmed you like nothing you’d experienced before, at least not since after the world fell. Appreciation flowed through you, and the comfortable silence reinforced that all the more. It was a safe feeling, one you shared with this kind, and beautiful woman. She’d washed the leftover soap and conditioner off your body, and began to towel dry your skin in a gentle manner.

“Here, wrap yourself in this. I’ll be right back with the clothes.” Quick footsteps brought her to the pile of clothes she’d attained over the months on the run. She’d returned to the bathroom with a few things in hand, and approached you. Carefully, she stood you from the tub and stepped back onto the floor while wiping the remaining water droplets off your back.

“Thanks..” you shivered a bit against the cold air, wanting to be clothed and back under the thick blanket. The socks she slipped over your feet helped warm you, while carefully slipping on the rest of her clothes. Tess even brought a spare sports bra for you to borrow for the time being. Something about the way she moved so calmly, spoke with such a soothing voice that made this whole situation seem lighter. On any other day, you’d be stressing about finding the right pills for a client or risking your life outside the walls. Her soft movements sparked something inside you with a new kind of warmth, and it almost atoned for everything you’d been through the past 12 hours.

Once you were dressed, Tess towel dried your hair and began to tie up another sling for your arm.

“When you’re back on the couch, I’m gonna put some ice on your ankle. It’ll help with the swelling and probably some of the pain.” You nodded silently, taken back constantly by her kindness.

“If you’re in pain, I could give you another dose of pain meds. But it depends on if you want to eat something beforehand. It’s been since yesterday since you ate anything, probably for the both of us. I can fix you something to eat, though.”

“Oh, uh, sure.” You weren’t completely sure what you were doing here still, your mind foggy from the night before. The way your injuries burned and ached against one another had you aching for some kind of relief– any kind at this point. How you got yourself here, you weren’t sure of either.

Not much later, Tess came over with something suitable for you to eat, before giving you a couple more pills for the pain. Again you fell drowsy from the pain medication, resting the day away. With you resting calmly on the couch, Tess did her best to stay awake until Joel returned, running on less than five hours of sleep. It felt like ages before he came through the apartment door once again.

“Hey, can you… keep an eye on them, please… I barely got any shuteye last night.”

“I just got back–”

“Joel, please.”

“Fine.”

“Don’t hurt them, Miller. Seriously. Or I’ll hurt you.” She mumbled under her breath, trudging to the door.

“I’ve got it. Just go.”

With that, Tess collapsed on her mattress, not even bothering to pull the sheet over her, before drifting off to sleep the minute her eyelids fluttered shut.

On the couch, you woke to a silent morning; no movement could be heard amongst the apartment. Your eyelids fluttered open, turning your head to look for Tess; instead you were met with the dark eyes of Joel Miller. His figure sat across from you, adjusting the gun in his hand so you could see it well.

“You try anything funny, you get a bullet.” Joel raised his hand to gesture with the weapon. He noticed the bags under your eyes were dark and sunken in, making you appear more dead than alive at the moment, despite all the bandages.

“You wouldn’t shoot me here. It’d be too loud and soldiers would be here quicker than light.” You rasped, coughing lightly from your dry throat.

“Wanna bet?” He leaned in with a menacing glare. You kept eye contact with him as he began to stand, the intimidation not making a dent in you. It was enough to make Joel second guess his opinion of you for a moment.

“Joel, stand down.” Tess called from the other side of the room. You called her name from the couch, and she quickly replied.

“I’m here. Do you need anything?” She came into eyesight now, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and casually wearing a sweatshirt. Tess gave Joel a look, motioning for him to leave the room.

“Yeah. I need to get out of here and home.” Your eyes watched the older man get up, watching as Tess approached, “My client’s probably freaking the fuck out and wreaking havoc across the QZ looking for me.”

“About that…” She strolled over to where you were, taking a seat, “You need to tell me who did this to you.”

“What? N-No… I can’t. He’s my client. I can deal with him.” You shot up in your seat, groaning slightly.

“Oh right. Like that worked out so well last time?” Joel spoke, walking away. Your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance at what Tess was suggesting.

“Trust me, kid. You’ll thank me later.” She added.

“I’m already thanking you later. I’ll probably be owing you for the rest of my life.”

“No, kid–”

“Don’t call me kid. I’m grown. I can take care of myself.”

“Okay, you’re gonna have to prove it, then. You still need time to heal.” Tess insisted you lay down again, but her words flew in one ear and out the other.

“I need to not be couch bound and sleeping through the day! I need to have a life, some kind of life in this shit hole of a city! Don’t you get it?” Your voice was rising, straining against the irritation.

“I do, trust me. I do. It’s why we got into that business, too. But hun, you didn’t deserve what happened to you. I hope you know that. Now, I’d like to know…” She leaned in closer, lowering her voice to look you in the eye.

“Let it go. It doesn’t matter!”

“Yes it does. Who did this to you?” Her voice spoke pointedly, holding strong eye contact with you. Your eyes closed for a second, throwing your head back with a sigh.

“His info is on the third page in my notebook. You’ll know it’s him cause his orders take up almost the whole fucking page.” You pinched the bridge of your nose as Tess stepped toward your pack, rummaging through it until she found the notepad. Pocketing it, she walked over to Joel’s door, ajar, and spoke.

“Texas, make our guest something to eat. I have some business to attend to.” She turned toward the door, exiting the apartment with your notebook in hand.

“Wait, Tess!”

Your voice fell on deaf ears; she was already down the hallway and gone. Once the man emerged from his bedroom, you shared a plain look as he made his way to the kitchen. Before reaching for the cupboard doors, he grabbed the bottle of amber liquor and poured some into a glass.

“Pour me a glass of that, please.”

“Are you even old enough?”

“Are you kidding? I’m 25. Now can you pour me a damn drink already?”

Silently, Joel rolled his eyes and poured some into a glass for you. It was his peace offering before he went back to find something for you to eat. You ended up sharing some soup and crackers with Joel for dinner, awaiting the older woman’s return afterwards.

An hour or two passed before Tess made her way back. You were resting on the couch when the door opened. She took a sharp breath in upon entering, and let the door slam behind her louder than usual. It gained your attention and Joel’s, looking toward the door. You heard her hiss a breath, while she shook out her fist.

“Shit, Tess. What did you do?” She walked further into the apartment, the light glimmering against the fresh blood across her lip.

“Took care of that client of yours.” She muffled a groan, stretching out her fist while her knuckles bled.

“Did you kill him? The fuck–” You began to try and stand on your good foot, but stumbled before you could get any closer to her.

“What? No, I didn’t kill him. Just taught him a lesson. That smug fucker. I don’t know why you did business with him. He’s a bad junkie. You never do business with a bad junkie.” She sat down near you again, noticing the empty whiskey glass nearby on the floor.

“He was my most frequent customer. Shady as hell, if I’m honest, he kinda scared me. That’s how I knew it was him when I got attacked.

“That’s naïve of you. Why would you ever do something that risky by yourself?”

“I… didn’t have anyone else who was willing to risk their lives sneaking around the QZ. So I said fuck it.”

“Well, I still think you’re a dumbass. You’re just lucky you’re staying out of the smuggling market for a while.”

“No, I told you I can’t. I need to–”

“You need to rest and heal. I swear to god, if I hear one more word about you getting on your feet before you’re a hundred percent, I swear I’ll chain you to the couch.”

“Jesus, fine. I won’t go back out there. Throw my entire business away just to wait till these injuries kill me in the middle of the night, I guess.”

“Hey, you’re gonna be fine. The only reason I’m being an asshole about this is because I want you to survive. I didn’t pull you off the street to let you go back to that shitty situation.” Her words were honest, even if you didn’t believe them.

“Well, thanks. I guess.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” She shrugged your thanks off and went about her business.

The future weeks proved to be the longest haul you thought you’d ever been in. It consisted of a lot of reading, sleeping, and wishing you could be on your feet. You ended up asking Tess to take a trip to your place and retrieve some of your things; you were tired of having to put her out of her own clothes to wear. Plus it would just be more comfortable for you. Tess checked your injuries daily, reapplying bandages and cleaning on a steady schedule. She would not let you die from infections after doing all she could to save your life that night.

The two older individuals went about their days more regularly once you were out of the woods with all of your injuries. Tess helped you to and from the table so you could join them for meals, otherwise spending the day rereading old books and magazines while trying to find other things to do than just sit around and rot. You were grateful for Tess saving your life, but this healing process was a bitch.

Standing wasn’t as easy as you thought it would be, especially having been off your feet for days on end. Much less the blood loss you’d experienced, it was humbling to not be able to get around on your own. Slowly as the first week passed, Tess helped you get back on your feet bit by bit. You had enough strength after another week to stand on your own.

One day, the smuggling duo was planning a run while surveying a map they’d drawn up. You nonchalantly watched, sitting in a chair neary. They hadn’t noticed you, until you mentioned a route they hadn’t heard of, and her attention turned to you, impressed with your knowledge and jotted the trail down for later.

“Wait, question. Do you guys know Robert?” Your arms crossed over your chest.

Both Joel and Tess turned towards you now, their eyes widened and faces grim.

“Why?” Joel asked with a stern voice.

“He’s one of the guys that uses that route. At least, his guys do. So be careful.”

“You’re telling me you used to run with Robert?”

“Only for a little. Seemed like he wanted more than just business… with me. But I got out of there before it was too late.” Tess scoffed, a smirk forming on her face.

“Tell you what. You wanna keep smuggling, you join us when you’re fully healed.”

Joel turned to her, but she shot him a look and turned back to the map silently.

“You’re sure?” You asked, sitting up.

“I’m sure. Not gonna let you put yourself in danger again when you could have us at your side.” She looked back down at the map and continued jotting in her notes.

“Okay, cool.” You smiled to yourself, thinking Tess didn’t see, but she glanced up for a moment after she heard your words. She noticed the eagerness in your eyes and felt her heart skip a beat.

So, it wasn’t all for nothing, you thought.

You weren’t given a second chance to live just to lose what got you through the days and weeks on your own. This gave you another opportunity to survive with individuals by your side; you wouldn’t be alone anymore.

Caring came far too easy for Tess. She'd seem cold on the outside, and sure, she was a reserved person. But to see you so overjoyed about being able to continue smuggling, she couldn’t help but have a little warm feeling in her chest.

She thought the first time would be the only time a spark would flicker inside her. But then you were laughing at something idiotic one night, and she felt it again. The tensions between you and Joel had broken– finally. For the first time in a while, Tess saw multiple things looking up: you were recovering on a steady pace, and on an even better note, becoming a friend to her. She read you books, mostly classics from what she’d traded for. Ultimately grateful, you listened intently to every word she read, while trying to not fall asleep from her soothing voice.

Under all the scratches and bruises, Tess saw your kindness and personality reveal with everyday that passed. She became privy to the way you saw the world with a gentle hand, reinforcing that spark in her chest. Yet that same spark came with guilt; she knew it wasn’t fair to fall for you after all you’d been through. She wasn’t sure if you’d ever trust someone like that again. So that spark was only kept as embers, in a lockbox on a very high, very dusty shelf in her mind.

Another week of healing went by, and you were finally able to stop wearing your arm in a sling. You spent the day traveling back to your place to grab some things you’d need for the next few days. Tess insisted you stay in the apartment with her and Joel while you healed. You hadn’t been home since the day you were attacked, other than the days Tess was kind enough to retrieve some things for you.

As of present day, you had gained the ability to walk on your ankle back after almost a month of being off it. The first thought in your head the morning of was that a trip outside the walls of the apartment. You also knew others might want to pay you a visit if you returned back by yourself, which is when you mentioned the idea to Tess.

“Yeah, you’re definitely not going alone. I’ll come with. When do we leave?”

“Right now.” You grinned at her with content before you went to grab your pack.

The two of you flew down the steps and out the door, Tess following behind you with caution. Your first step into the outside air was something you missed within almost a month of being indoors. While it wasn’t exactly sunny, the cool air was refreshing against your skin and differed greatly from the apartment.

“Don’t run off now.” the older woman muttered, shutting the door behind her. Just from the way you moved, Tess could tell you were in need of something like this. You looked around at the same old streets of the QZ like it was something completely new. She felt lucky to be the one seeing this part of you, the healed and healthy part.

“C’mon, I’ll lead the way.” You turned back to her, noticing her hazel eyes trained in your direction, then shifted to the path in front of you. A few minutes of walking passed, and you’d picked up some pairs of eyes looking your way from people on the surrounding streets. It was more of a side eye glance than a stare, but still you noticed it. After being terrified to leave the four walls of the apartment, being perceived was a bit more intimidating than you thought it’d be. You slowed your steps, letting Tess catch up with you.

“Um, Tess?” You mumbled, glancing back towards her.

“What’s up?”

“All these people keep staring...”

Tess surveyed the area before noticing something you hadn’t, and she chuckled.

“They’re not looking at you, they’re staring at me.” You did a quick glance back and forth, fidgeting with your fingers nervously.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Let’s keep going.” You turned back after nodding to her, hiding the tiny smile that snuck its way onto your lips. It was almost like walking with a scary dog at your side, except said scary dog was the taller woman trailing behind you.

From the way multiple pairs of eyes shot in her direction, some glazed over, some didn’t notice as you passed by. Other pairs of eyes widened as they fell on the figure of the woman behind you. You don’t know how she’s done it, but Tess Servopolous has the Boston QZ wrapped around her finger. It seemed everyone–including Joel Miller himself– had themselves under her spell. They did whatever she wanted the moment she asked. There was no second guessing her, and when she said to do something, you were damn well to do it. You learned the hard way during your healing process, stubborn and complaining that you couldn’t get around on your own.

One night when you were bickering, she’d tried to convince you that you weren’t ready to try and walk on your bad ankle yet. Stubborn and impatient, you kept talking back to her.

“Don’t even try to get up.”

You’d been overstressing yourself about getting back on your feet, so as to find another way to keep smuggling.

“Watch me.” You had hoisted yourself off the couch halfway, then used the last of your stamina to pull yourself the rest of the way up. The first step you took was with your good foot, but the minute you stepped with the other, you groaned and stumbled from the pain, landing on the ground.

“I told you…” Tess was at your side before you could attempt to move yourself back to the couch.

Gentle and slow, her hands around your body were familiar as if you’d known them to be the hands of a long time lover. They were just Tess’s hands, but to you, they couldn’t hurt or kill any more than they could wash over your injuries with a soft touch. When you got a better look at her for the first time, you saw the kindness in her eyes, and her heart in the actions she took towards you.

Common human decency was to take care of someone injured or sick, but you felt something different in the way she tended to you. It was in the way she used her hand to lift up your chin to check how your cuts were healing. Especially when she inspected the one on your lip for a bit too long, claiming it was healing fast and that you shouldn’t try to open it again. All you could hear when she spoke was your own heart beating in your ears, lost in the hazel of her eyes. She’d even found you a cane, but you paid it no mind and kept letting her help you instead.

“I’d hate to feel like a burden…”

“It’s alright, I don’t mind taking care of you.” A warmth flushed through your cheeks when her words hit your ears.

You could tell somewhere deep down, Tess used to care for people as easy as breathing. From the way she knew so much about patching others up, she wanted to keep people going, no matter the circumstances, you knew she cared much more than she showed.

Being on your feet again, outside those same bland apartment walls brought a new feeling you weren’t able to identify. It was different not walking alone for once in the streets, always having to glance over your shoulder just in case. Now when you looked over your shoulder, you saw Tess, and you hoped she’d stay in your life for longer than just when you were healing from your injuries. She meant too much to you to just forget about after she’d been by your side the whole time.

The route to your apartment wasn’t far from where Tess lived, and you were there within no time. It was a bit overwhelming once you came up to the door, fidgeting with the keyring until it clicked into the lock.

“Well, here we are.” You opened the door, stepping into the stale air of your place. Things were as you’d left them, with a few odds and ends out of order from when Tess had stopped by for some of your toiletries. All your knickknacks were scattered about, some across the countertops and any spare surface you could find. Some, if not most, were collected on the road, and others were from your home when you first fled.

“Nice place you got here.”

“You should know, being the only person to be here besides me in the past few weeks.” you chuckle, shoving your keys back in your jeans pocket. They actually happened to be Tess’s, but you couldn’t tell the difference anymore. She didn’t mind either.

She’d been contemplating a lot on the walk over, worried about what might happen when you were fully healed. Tess knew there was a problem when her heart warmed at the sight of you sleeping peacefully on the couch, then remembered what you’d been through and wanted to burn the whole QZ down.

It was almost gone when you started to heal, until she couldn’t sleep thinking about what could happen to you when you went back out there. A wave of restlessness washed over her, and it’d been very hard to accept the fact that you could end up right back where she found you.

“Guess you’re right.” Tess muttered, stepping into the cool air of the apartment.

“I’ll be a minute, gonna grab some clothes and then we can head back.” You spoke, her eyes trailing down your back as you walked into the other room. Silently, she moved about the main room, her eyes catching all the different little objects around the space. Tess didn’t know how you had time to collect all these different things– from shells to rocks to other small toys and charms that lay about– there was no shortage of oddities. Before she knew it, she was standing in front of your open bedroom door. Timidly, she peeked inside to see you rustling through a few drawers and shoving clothes into a backpack.

“Nice… room. Cozy.” You glanced up at her for a moment while folding the clothes to put in your bag.

“Thanks, I tried to make it as home-y as possible. Makes up for the whole quarantine zone thing.”

“I get it.” Tess chewed the inside of her lip nervously, stepping into the room slightly, leaning one of her arms against the doorframe.

“Do you? That place of yours is barely decorated.” You snarked, trying to cover up how aware you were of how domestic she looked standing in your bedroom doorway. She was perfect with the light beams of sunlight peeking over her shoulder.

“Guess stuff like that doesn’t really matter to me.”

But she wanted it to matter; she wanted it to matter to her so desperately. For you, she’d do anything– put up with whatever you threw at her, because she cared. There wasn’t a way to tell when Tess noticed this fire burning inside her, lit aflame by your out righteousness.

She pined to see reminders of you every day when she wakes up. To see you when she opened her eyes in the morning. You’d simply been indented into her mind, and refused to give way.

“Y’know, you’re still welcome at my place after you get back on your feet. Seriously. My place is yours.” Tess took a step into your room nervously.

“Oh, well thanks. That means a lot. I mean… I’m really grateful for everything you’ve done for me. It’s not like we won’t see each other ever again. I’ll probably spend most nights at your place when we start working together.”

I would never want to stop coming around you either way…

On the instance of becoming friends with the woman who saved your life, it occurred to you quite rapidly that the feelings you had for her weren’t just appreciation. It shouldn’t have been that easy to realize you wanted her… to be entranced with her in a way so distracting. Some days you weren’t sure if you were actually feeling better on account of listening to every groove of her voice streak through your mind with no return. You could hardly believe she was standing in your apartment as of today, let alone sharing a space so intimate as your bedroom.

“Besides… It's your apartment. You must both want your respective space back.”

Tess sighed, masking the pit in her stomach when she thought about you on your own again. God forbid you ended up right where she found you; that would be a gut wrenching nightmare. It was already hard enough seeing you beaten up and barely hanging on to life. To even ponder the idea that it could happen again? She’d take absolutely no chances.

Getting protective when you’ve known them for three weeks, Tess? Pretty weak to let someone in while you couldn’t protect the rest of them.

“Even when you do start working with us, you’ll be right between me and Joel. That way you’ll always have one of us on your six, watching your back. We’ll have your back.” She started with a small smile, while simultaneously ignoring the voice in her head. You met her eye and nodded with a smile, zipping your bag shut.

“Very considerate of you, Tess. But if you don’t teach me how to hold my own, I’ll start practicing on Joel.” You slung your bag across your shoulder, watching as Tess followed you out.

“Oh, I’ll definitely teach you. Joel will just have to be fine with being the dummy.” She followed with a chuckle, taking another look at the interior of your bedroom like she would never see it again.

“Well, don’t worry. I’ll still be on your couch tonight.” You said, before walking out the door and locking it behind Tess.

The only epiphany Tess had that day was that she never wanted you to leave. Never wanted to lose sight of you, never wanted to be without you, could never even imagine losing you. Tess had stuffed all those warm feelings down in a tight little box that sat on a dusty shelf in the back of her mind. When she would revisit the idea of actually having a chance with you, she was unsure. But she’d do her damndest in the meantime to shove away those pesky butterflies in her stomach.

It would be a long, long time before she revisited that box again.

a/n: i linked it at the top but i will link it here as well, this is a prequel to another one of my fics called long long time. You can find that fic here and all my other tess fics here!

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devnmon · 1 year

Text

Tell it To the Frogs

Chapter Six: Written in My Stars

gif by @userpascals

Summary: Daryl hunts squirrel and a deer in the forest, staying awake till morning deep in the woods. As he returns to camp, he finds the deer he'd been tracking gnawed on by a walker. He receives more upsetting news when he gets back to camp. It's only a matter of time before he's rushing to the playing field.

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Series Masterlist | Playlist

Chapter Warnings: description of walkers/dead animals, typical twd gore scenes and mentions

wc: 7k

A/n: Wow I didn't realize this chapter would be so much longer than the first couple... This one is based on episode 3 of TWD, if u know u know. Either way I hope you all enjoy & happy reading!

Though Daryl had no sense of time by a clock these days, he could figure out how many hours of daylight he had left just by using his fingers and the position of the sun in the sky. It's one of the first skills daryl forced himself to learn from one of Merle's old survival textbooks, engraining it in his brain when he was young, in case he ever got lost.

It was about noon now, as the sun's light shone brightly across the leaves grown on the very tops of the trees, covering the forest floor in a cool shade. Daryl appreciated the difference in air temperature, the back of his neck already burnt from days before.

Amongst the trees and wild animals was where daryl truly enjoyed his alone time. Though he was attempting to focus his mind and body on the hunt, he couldn't help but notice how much he wished you'd been there to keep him company. Maybe one day you'd like to do that with him, if he ever got lucky enough.

Daryl strolled amongst the high grass, enjoying the peace but also wishing you were at his side, telling a joke or talking about how terrible his brother is. He scratched his head awkwardly at how much his thoughts of you bombarded the ones he was trying to have about the hunt he was on.

Pulling himself back to concentrate on the task at hand, he realized the forest he inhabited at the moment might be home to other unfriendly dead folks. Since his days of hunting with Merle, Daryl has been able to tell the difference between the sounds of animal, human, and now, walker tracks. It was another key aspect of hunting he picked up in order to learn the skills of hunting proficiently.

Daryl currently hiked up a steep hill that overlooked a section of the forest grounds with strong visibility. He scanned the area, squatting at the top and looking down below. His eyes studied the below ground, watching for any animals that could be rustling about in the surrounding areas. He peers through the scope of his crossbow, singling in on a large bush on the right side of the open area.

He'd noticed the leaves shake a minute or so ago, and focused in on it, waiting to see if anything made its way into the open. Once the leaves rustled again, he lightly gasped to himself, watching as the animal finally showed itself.

Appearing out of the wood was a large deer, one he'd been searching the forest to bring back for the group. Daryl's eyes widened as the opportunity washed over him, peering through the scope of his bow. The deer trembled in place, almost as if it had been spooked by something before coming into the clearing.

He'd been seconds away from plunging an arrow through the deer's body, when the bush it stood in front of rustled once more. The deer reacted strikingly, as it took off running through the open forest area. he hadn't realized within the deer getting scared off that he shot the arrow into the its backside.

To try and catch up with it before he lost the animal within the thicker part of the woods, Daryl trampled down the hill he'd been observing from as carefully as he was able to, without completely sliding down it. Passing by the same area in which he'd watched the deer exit from, his bow stayed drawn in order to catch (or put down) whatever came from the thick brush next.

Daryl crouched behind a lower part of the forest, as the bush rustled intensely, before the shape of something emerging from it came into the light. He watched as a walker stumbled out from the bush, realizing it was the thing chasing the deer.

"Damn.." He muttered lowly, standing up slightly to grab its attention. The walker groaned endlessly, his finger released the trigger as it turned to face him, arrow plunging through its skull and toppling to the ground.

"Let's hope ya don't have any friends taggin' along behind.." He muttered again, pulling his arrow from the walker's skull and heading off in the opposite direction to find the deer.

After about a half hour of exploration passed as he searched the area he'd seen the deer head through, deciding then that he'd just have to be more patient.

Instead of him finding the deer, he was going to let the deer find him.

Daryl took hold of all the energy brewing inside him for this hunt and put it into hunting squirrel in the meantime. Every time he came out here to hunt was when he felt the most like himself. He didn't understand it, but he guessed it was because he liked to be alone. Daryl was always good at catching squirrel, matter of fact it was his favorite thing to catch. Not really his favorite thing to eat though, he much rather preferred venison over squirrel. But it didn't matter that much to him, after all it was slim pickings in the forest and world these days. There were times where was grateful to be able to catch anything at all to hold him over during the nights.

Daryl always planned his hunts; whether it be when he was going, how long he was going to be out for, what he was going to catch, how much of it he was going to catch, or what portion he was going to keep for himself, he really took inventory with these kinds of things.

Considering the close knit group at camp were the only ones he'd have to provide for, he decided on about 10 squirrels, adding five extra to keep for himself. With that amount of meat, he would have provided enough food to last a week, probably longer if the camp's rations were a little more controlled.

By the time Daryl knew he had about three hours of sunlight left, he'd caught half of the squirrels he needed to meet his quota, then ended up impaling two of them on one arrow.

"That's a damn lucky shot.." Daryl muttered as he chuckled to himself, plucking the arrow from the tree it shot into.

He'd been tying the squirrels onto a string from a while ago, and each one he caught from then on ended up there too. as for now he was at ten, but with the lack of movement in the trees and on the forest floor, Daryl would have to hit his quota of squirrels by tomorrow. Though he did snag about two more before the sun went fully down.

Daryl wished he'd caught that deer so he could get back to camp earlier than he'd expected. He decided to settle down and make a campfire to cook his squirrel.

Since Daryl grew up in the woods half of his childhood, he'd always have an easy and enjoyable time cooking his food over the warmth of a campfire. At this moment, he sat on the stump of a log after tying off a small area for his camp with wires and tin cans in case of walkers or stray animals. He sat with a large piece of wood in his hand, cutting it into a tinder stick. They were used, he read in Merle's survival textbook once again, for starting campfires, ones that lasted long, burning strong and well. then he'd collected some dry leaves and branches from the ground, and put his soon-to-be-lit campfire together.

Soon enough, the flames burned brightly in front of the hunter's face, warming him within the cool evening air. He removed two of the squirrels for preparation, one for now and one for later on in the night.

Guess I'll just have to catch more squirrel before I go back to camp...

Though his quota had gone up again, he was sure there would be simple early-morning catches for him to replace the two he was sacrificing tonight.

Daryl hadn't planned on sleeping during this hunt, since there wasn't a place to stay, plus it was just easier for him to stay awake until his outing was finished. On previous hunts of his, there were times he'd fall asleep from closing his eyes for the slightest moment, the next thing he knew, hours passed and the sun had risen.

But that was back in the old world, when there was no imminent possibility of life-and-death danger roaming the woods at any point in time. Though, it's not like Daryl got a normal amount of sleep on a normal-person basis, anyways.

So, Daryl cooked his food as he would any other time, adding some of the ingredients still in his pack from when he'd been on the road. He thought it was funny, how fast life in this world moves. Not even three days ago he was on a much different path, pondering if each day was going to be their last. Thankfully, that hadn't been true. By some luck, he'd found people who were kind enough to give him and his brother a chance to survive.

They had made it alright so far, why not keep going?

That night, Daryl stayed at the campsite well after he'd finished his first squirrel. Keeping the embers of his fire burning ever so slightly was how he spent his time, to have a tiny sliver of light and warmth amongst the chilled night sky. Owls and other nocturnal animals echoed in the dark, pitter patter of smaller woodland animals scurrying across the forest floor.

Daryl wasn't startled by these noises, since he knew the difference between each pair of scurrying feet patterns rustling the surrounded brush he'd been intently concentrating on.

It was silent for a while before it dawned on him that he'd spent what felt like forever hunched over the lingering warmth of embers burning out into ash, any light and heat dwindling away to nothing. Daryl only grunted in frustration at the pile of ashes that was once his blazing campfire.

He rose from the stump his bottom had become numb from, making him groan in pain a little bit as his hand went to rub some feeling back into it. He straightened his back all the way for the first time as well, the pain only hurting for a second or two before it felt good as he stretched his arms out by his sides.

Daryl could see pretty well in the dark, but clicked his flashlight on anyways as he stepped outside the sectioned-off campsite. The weight of his bow and pack on Daryl's shoulders had started to ache from its constant weight on his back muscles. Daryl hadn't taken off his pack in a while, the effect of its weight showing itself with those same aches. He decided to peer into the scope of his bow, the flashlight helping with visibility of where he was looking.

The minute he peered through the scope, he saw another squirrel, taking that as his sign to focus on meeting his self-drawn quota of how many he'd bring back for camp, the archer hunted until the sun shone across the forest once again.

Daryl stopped in his tracks the minute his eyes spotted a bright orange and pink sunrise that was broadening the horizon with each minute that passed. One thing Daryl did when he was out here was enjoy all the beauty of nature. He watched until the colors dissipated and the sky returned to its blue hue.

Only slightly drowsy at this point, Daryl pulled the last of his squirrels together around the string tied over his shoulder. He resumed his steps again, gaze drifting away from the horizon as he began to trample through the forest until its areas became familiar again.

Slowly, he recognized the surrounding area of the camp, feeling a bit foolish after going in one big circle.

Leaves rustled in front of him again, freezing in his tracks as he drew his crossbow, ready to fire. The particular bush in question shook a bit more, until the figure of an animal darted out of it, speeding right past Daryl, the exact way he'd been walking. realization washed over him, taking off in a sprint after it.

He followed its tracks into the brush once again, on its tail ever so diligently. It wasn't until he saw it dart into another bush, catching the figure of a walker headed into that same area.

The archer hadn't realized how close he'd gotten to camp again, since the next sound that echoed out were the screams of little kids. Frightened calls for their parents echoed out, high-pitched voices sending a chill up Daryl's spine. In spur of the moment, he shuffled into the clearing, trying to eye around the thick brush that just so happened to be near the entrance to camp.

As he walked closer, the deer on the ground came into view, arrow still sticking out of its backside. Daryl must have accidentally stepped on a stick as he came into the clearing, because the minute his eyes raised from the carcass, he also spotted a small group of the men from camp standing within the clearing, all looking at Daryl as if they'd mistaken him for a walker.

"Son of a bitch..." Daryl stepped further into the clearing, nearing the animal carcass and lifeless walker, "That's my deer!"

The sight of his deer's untimely death was horrific to the naked eye, and disappointed him in a way that brought a pit-in-his-stomach reaction. The remnants of one walker's meal lay half chomped on, its bodily fluids seeping into the dirt.

Daryl's frustration seeped to his core, his whole hunt wasted since losing the deer to a damn geek. His gaze faltered for a moment, until the only thing Daryl could feel now was the taste in the back of his throat, his anger taking control over his words.

"Look at it.. all gnawed on by this... filthy, disease-bearing, motherless poxy bastard!"

Daryl kicked angrily at the already dead corpse, as if it was going to do anything about the fact that it had already gnawed on the deer. The only option now was to see if he could manage with what he had, and save the parts of the deer that weren't bitten.

"Calm down, son. That's not helping." Dale's voice was the only thing he didn't need to hear right now, already in a heightened state of aggravation.

Daryl had done his best to go out and hunt for the group that had so willingly let him in, and this is what he gets? No, Dale didn't understand that the only thing Daryl could do at this point was yell.

It couldn't get much worse than this.

"What do you know about it old man?! Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to 'On Golden Pond'?" Daryl took a breath and walked over to the deer, yanking his arrows from it, "I've been trackin' this deer for miles. Was gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison."

"What do ya think? You think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?" Daryl pointed to the part of the carcass that was free of walker bites. Still bent over the animal, he glanced up at the group of men, realizing Amy and Andrea stood a few feet behind them.

"I would not risk that.." Shane said, the shotgun he'd been holding draped over his shoulders.

"That's a damn shame.. Well I got some squirrel- about a dozen or so. That'll have to do." He adjusted the string of tiny woodland animals hanging from his shoulder.

All the men did was stare at Daryl until he continued speaking. His eyes shifted from Glenn, Shane, T-dog and Dale to the other man standing in the group. There was something about him that Daryl recognized, but he didn't know him from the world before.

He did a double take and then it hit him.

It was the sheriff. The guy from the road. Shot the kid walker. He looked different without his deputy uniform on, that Daryl almost didn't recognize him.

What a world of coincidences.

Looking down at the still corpse of the walker they cut the head off of, its head reanimated instantly, cracking its mouth open as if it hadn't been decapitated from its body. The men let out groans of disgust as Daryl stepped towards it.

"Oh, God..." Amy and Andrea ran in aversion to the decapitated walker head that had come alive again.

"Come on people, what the hell?" Daryl aimed his bow at the head, shooting it swiftly with an arrow. "It's gotta be the brain. don't y'all know nothin'?"

He trailed off back to camp, leaving the deer and walker corpses to the men behind him. There was one man he hadn't recognized among the group, but figured his introduction to him wouldn't be far behind. As it washed over him that the group was back, Daryl figured Merle would have been looking for him by now.

Sauntering towards the main part of camp, the clearing where everyone lingered in their respective areas, his eyes darted around different areas of the camp for his brother.

"Merle!"

There was surprisingly, no answer. It only startled him slightly.

He half expected his brother to appear from the doorway of Dale's van, watching some of the group crowded around the outside of it, huddling with concerned looks on their faces.

Daryl called out again for his brother.

"Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! Got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up!" Daryl placed the crossbow against some rocks and wood on the ground, and sauntered closer to the small group.

Though it wasn't until Shane called his name from behind where he walked that a slight twinge of worry started to settle in him.

"Daryl, just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you." Hearing Shane's voice call his name, he turned to face him, left hand gripping the string with squirrels still on his shoulder.

"'Bout what?" He watched the officer stroll past him, signaling him to follow.

"About Merle. There was a- a problem in Atlanta." Shane hesitates to get the sentence out, wishing Daryl wouldn't react the same way his brother had, the past few days of them at the camp.

Silence rang out after Hhane's words ran him over like a strong blow to his stomach, a deep unsettling pit Daryl hadn't experienced in what felt like forever.

It had truly been the worst at this point.

My brother's dead, he thought, the harsh reality of his world currently crashing down on him. On the other hand, Daryl hadn't even been given the details of what had occurred.

"Is he dead?" His eyes squinting at Shane, waiting for him to rip the bandage off already.

"We're not sure." His voice was uncertain, which just made Daryl sweat with anticipation.

Not sure?

What the hell did he mean, not sure? The uncertainty that washed over him coated his hands and chest with a sting of unwanted panic that stood out when he clenched his fists at his sides.

Why was he hearing this from Shane, and not one of the people that was there?

"He either is or he ain't!" Daryl walked past Shane, not giving him the opportunity to speak again, before the unknown guy from earlier started walking towards him. He wore a white t-shirt and blue jeans, finding something familiar about his face that he couldn't quite figure out yet.

"No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it." The man in the white shirt spoke calmly as he approached Daryl.

"Who are you?"

"Rick Grimes."

"Rick Grimes, you got somethin' you wanna tell me?!" Daryl didn't want this conversation to be any longer than it had to. He wished the man in front of him would spit out what he needed to say already.

"Your brother was a danger to us all. So, I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there."

The sweat coating his skin dripped down the side of his temple, his pacing speeding up, as he'd walked away from the guy in front of him, before he ended up hitting him. Daryl didn't know what to think, the situation before him almost too aggravating to think straight.

He definitely wasn't in a moment like this.

"Hold on. Lemme process this. You sayin' you handcuffed my brother to a roof, and you left him there?!"

Rick confirms what he's said is true, and the impact of his statement washes over Daryl like a bucket of cold water being dumped on him.

It wasn't a moment later that Daryl's eyebrows furrowed, heart starting to race again.

Within the extremes of his anger, Daryl always threw things at the people who'd annoyed him. Sometimes it was a clump of dirt, other times it was whatever was in front of him, or what he had on hand.

This time, it was the string on his shoulder with the dead squirrels attached. As it went flying, Rick dodged the foreign object being thrown at him, backing up out of his reach before Daryl got the chance to take another swing at him. With the force of his body being thrown forward, he grunted, only to be intercepted and tackled to the ground by Shane. His body weight on top of Daryl's made him really thankful he wasn't the one Merle had got knocked out on top of a few days prior.

The next thing Daryl knew, his anger took over his actions, since his anger grew so intensely. though Rick and Shane restricted his body, and next thing he knew, he was yelling out whatever came to mind.

"You'd best let me go!" Aggravation seeped from his voice, not appreciating the familiar feeling of his body being restricted once again in a different way than before.

"Nah, I think it's better if I don't."

Shane denied him the release of his arms from around his head, mockery in his voice pissing him off to another level. The arms around his head were wrapped in a way that wasn't made legal by law enforcement. He knows this only because he's been forced to the ground by many cops, none that had him in a chokehold, though. Shane was previously an officer as well, which just made it worse.

"Chokehold's illegal." Daryl grunted out, Shane's forearms still wrapped around his neck and head. His temple throbbed now, with the man's voice echoing in his mind.

"File a complaint. Come on, man. We keep this up all day."

As he beckoned Daryl to back down from any violence, he was pushed to sit on the ground as the two men stood above him. Looking up to see Rick crouched nearby, he now spoke with a lowered voice and more serious tone.

"I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that?"

Daryl had been too worked up to speak in the moment, causing Rick to repeat himself.

"Do you think we can manage that?"

Daryl's silence gave Shane the signal to release him from the headlock.

Rick lowered his head so Daryl could hear him, and maybe, take what he said seriously.

"What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work and play well with others." Rick says, in an attempt to let Daryl know how serious he was about trying to keep the group safe.

Daryl heard T-dog speak again, as he'd been admitting something on the lines of having the key to the handcuffs getting dropped down a drain, of all places.

his gaze faltered downwards, pulling his chin towards his chest, forearms shaking as he attempted to pick himself up off the ground already like a man.

though he wasn't present, his brother's words lingered in his mind, his thoughts, and all the decisions he made.

Astounded by what he's heard out of the people in his group, Daryl pulls himself up from his crouched stance, beginning to rise as Rick pivoted out of his way.

His lips pull together into a straight line, posture stiffening as he heads past the others. Trudging past T-dog, he can't help himself as he blurts out, "If that's supposed to make me feel better, it don't."

Though, he spoke once more, trying to give Daryl the benefit of the doubt that his brother was still alive.

"It's gotta count for something," Rick spoke again, mindful of his words in attempt to not heighten the state of the man in front of him.

Daryl bowed his head, looking to his feet as tears sprung a leak in his eyes. Instead of allowing himself the moment to feel his emotions, he blinks them away and said his piece before walking the other direction.

"Hell with all y'all. Just tell me where is.. so's I can go get him." Daryl felt his voice wavering, the back of his throat dry and lungs out of breath. He was exhausted, but denial was only poking him in the side and motivating him to do whatever it took to get his brother back.

The guys conversation continues, until Daryl hears that Rick's joining him on his trip into the city, and he isn't sure if he feels good about it. This particular guy was the same one who had a part to play in Merle being stranded out in the city, which didn't sit right with him at all.

He watches the two deputies bicker from the campfire, their conversation carrying over to where he sat. Rick treads back into the main campsite, as Shane follows, desperately trying to understand the decisions his friend is making.

"Could you throw me a bone here man? Just tell me why? Why would you risk your life for a douchebag like Merle Dixon..."

"Hey. Choose your words more carefully." Daryl stood nearby, overhearing Shane's remark about his brother.

"No, I did. Douchebag's what I meant." Shane said, glancing over to Daryl before turning back to Rick, "...Merle Dixon- That guy wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst."

"So you and Daryl? That's your big plan?"

The way Lori spoke agitated him, the woman's words not only sounding like she didn't believe they could do it, but undermining both of their intelligence. He only glared over to where she sat, everyone else turning a listening ear at the sheriff. Rick peered over to Glenn, a nonverbal questioning as to if he would join him into the city again.

"Oh, come on.." Glenn retorted, but quickly agreed after Rick gave him a bunch of reasons why he'd be helpful in Atlanta.

Apparently the dark haired man Daryl met three days ago in the woods had an extensive knowledge of the city streets in the brain buried under that baseball cap of his.

"That's just great. Now you're gonna risk three men, huh?" Shane's nostrils flared in annoyance, hands running through his hair as he sauntered away from the conversation before circling back.

All this time the guys have been going back and forth, you'd just been observing from afar, trying to figure out if they'd solve their problem anytime today. You hadn't seen Shane risking his life for this group, so his complaining was unjustified to you.

"Four." T-dog spoke up, the irony of him being he was the one that admitted to dropping the handcuff key.

Daryl scoffed, mumbling, "My day just gets better and better, don't it?"

His hands busied with cleaning off each of his arrows using the red rag he'd kept in the back pocket of his pants.

Sitting by the sidelines while Shane only ordered everyone around and tell people what they could and couldn't do. It was outrageous hearing all this talk come from a man who hadn't done at least as half as much as the rest of you did for the camp.

"Shane, I don't ever see you risking your life for the group, so what do you care if they head out to the city again? They're a smart group of men, they can do it. Do you expect us all to sit here with our thumbs up our asses all day and night? At least they want to do something to fix the situation!"

Daryl turned around to glance back at you, your eyes meeting his for a split second, then turn back to Shane and Rick.

Lori only glared at you but at this point you didn't care, if Daryl had gotten this upset about finding out his brother had been stranded, you thought they should do the right thing and go with him to get the man back. Even if you didn't care for him.

Merle was the last person you wanted back in the camp, since the peace without his presence in camp has been very soothing. On the other hand, you understood where Daryl was coming from, since the experience of something similar had happened to you.

Listening still, you stood behind daryl, sat on a log, also tuning in to Shane rambling on about Rick and how he was 'putting everyone in danger', like rick had no clue what leaving the camp meant to the rest of the group.

Daryl's impatient with the situation at hand, but wants to see where it goes before he collects his things and heads out.

Shane isn't on board with the plan until Rick mentions the bag of guns he'd dropped on the street the day Glenn found him. He describes in detail the list of guns he'd taken from the police station, before he'd been swarmed by walkers on the street.

You overhear Lori criticize her husband's choice of leaving the camp not even a day after getting there. The only thought running through your head was the fact that rick was responsible for Daryl's brother getting left out there, and he said himself he "couldn't let a man die."

You'd been drifting away from the conversation ever since Rick and Shane went back and forth at each other once again. So, you decided to actually drift away from the group to be alone.

Everyone began splitting off in their separate directions to collect their things for the run, after the conversation was over. Though, Daryl recognizes you further away from the group.

Rising from his seat, he plans to head back to his tent to write in his journal before he leaves, but his feet bring him to where you had wandered instead.

He spots you poking at the remnants of whatever lay in a pan over the campfire, observing as you scoop it up with a fork and shovel it into your mouth.

Daryl decides to approach you, since he doesn't want to be one of those guys that never talked to people. He also didn't want to be one that stared out of shyness and intimidation.

As he got closer to the campfire, he saw you sat with a book in your hands, your face reacting to the text as you read. It was funny, you hadn't noticed the man stood in front of you now, your eyes focused on the content of the book grasped between your palms.

Daryl studied your figure, shoulders relaxing as he stood with his gaze fixed on you. A moment passed before he'd had been pulled out of his ogling. Luckily, you still hadn't noticed him standing there. He cleared his throat as calm as possible to get your attention without startling you.

Your eyes glanced up from the book, brightening as the look of Daryl before you pulled your attention from the book fully.

"Oh hey, Daryl. Sorry, I was just.. reading."

Just reading?? Where did your social skills disappear to?

You wanted to apologize profusely to Daryl for not realizing he'd been standing there, not even knowing how long he'd been standing there, waiting to grab your attention.

It was cute how he didn't interrupt your reading, but some part of you wanted him to be the reason you did put the book down.

Daryl didn't mind though, he found it endearing how you couldn't tear your eyes away, as if even your peripheral vision was focused in on the story in that book, and nothing else.

It's the little things, this is the apocalypse after all.

In the back of his brain, there was a slight twinge of jealousy that made him want to be the object of your attention, in a similar way the book you clutched in your hands had it at the moment.

Daryl only nodded his head, brain void of any clear sentence after watching you read, until you spoke again.

"How was your hunt? Other than your deer.. which I'm sorry about, by the way." Your head tilted to the side, eyebrows raising in concern, since you overheard how upset he'd been over it earlier.

[Subconsciously, Daryl appreciated you asking about the hunt, and not about his brother. Then again, you probably would ask about him eventually.

"Oh yeah, the deer.. Don't think there was anythin' I could do about that, but thanks. Just caught a bunch of squirrel for stew."

His eyes softened as you looked up, brows furrowing before you spoke.

"Um.. squirrel stew?" You hesitated, disbelief in the words coming out of the archer's mouth. Daryl's head shook with disbelief, eyes widening a bit as he looked at you.

"Never had it?"

"No.. and I'm not sure if I want to.." Your nose wrinkled at the thought of eating those cute woodland creatures, ones you'd enjoyed seeing scurry around before the world ended. There was a slight laugh that came with your words, reassuring Daryl that you weren't making fun of him.

"Trust me, the way I make it, tastes just like-"

"If you say it tastes like chicken, Dixon..." Your hand raised in the air, pausing him from continuing his sentence. A laugh emerged from your chest at his absurd suggestion that squirrel would taste even remotely close to any other meat. A small smile cracked across his face, appreciating the fact that you were calming him from the state he'd been in earlier.

"Alright, it don't really taste like chicken. But it's real good if it's made right. And I just happen to do it up that exact way." His hands attached to his hips matter-of-factly.

"Well, I guess when you make that stew, you'll have to save a bowl for me." You closed the book, tagging your page and putting it down next to you.

"Nah. It's best when it's fresh, promise you'll get the first bowl when I get to makin' it. Maybe it'll change your mind about it.."

The banter between you both made you chuckle, nodding at his statement with a small smile. "Yeah, okay."

It warmed your heart to see Daryl so comfortable within the camp already, since his day hadn't gotten off to a great start. You hoped he wouldn't stop being so anytime soon.

Truth be told, he couldn't hold back the shy smile that weaved its way onto his face, but when Daryl fully felt it spread, you broke your eye contact with him for the first time.

"Question, do you know how long the group's been back?" Daryl asked, out of curiosity, since your answer would give him an idea of how long his brother's been out there.

"I think they got back late yesterday, Glenn apparently saved him from being swarmed by Geeks.. He was surrounded in a tank in the middle of Atlanta. I heard from him that Rick had been looking for his wife and son, imagine my surprise when they ended up in our group. Of all places.. " You chuckled at the amazing coincidence, "I saw him run up and hug them both yesterday.. It almost brought me to tears. I haven't seen anything like that in so long.."

You trailed off, smile dropping when you realize Daryl's listening to you go on about someone else's family, the day after he'd lost his.

"Sorry. I know you're going through something with your family and-"

"Nah, don' worry about me. I'm glad you told me 'bout Rick. Makes him seem more human an' less 'asshole that chained my brother to a roof'.."

You chuckled again, and Daryl actually smiled that time.

The sweet moment between the two of you settled, realization setting in his brain again: he's wasted so much time at camp, thinking his brother could be hurt, or worse out there on a rooftop in the city. He'd better get moving with the thing she had to get done before leaving.

Oh, how he would love to sit next to you and talk for hours..

"Hey look, I gotta go do some stuff before i leave for the city. It was nice talkin' with ya after the mornin' I had, so thanks."

You nodded again, appreciating Daryl for coming up to you and stealing your attention away from that damn book.

His grin lingers as he walks away from you, cheeks hurting by the time he gets back to his tent. Unzipping it, he steps inside and sits on the cot. Immediately, the pain in his feet withdraws as he kicks them up after taking his boots off.

His pack drops off of his back now, hand reaching inside for the familiar leather book. The pen topples out of the page Daryl had last written on.

"Alright, let's see here..."

The pen clicked, scribbling of ink onto paper scratched out a few words, and before he knew it, Daryl had written a whole paragraph.

Day four

The group made it back from the city later in the day, without Merle. Don't know exactly what went down, but some guy named Rick Grimes said he was a danger to the group an’ that he had to leave him behind. Told me he handcuffed him to some rooftop in the city. Found out just as I got back from hunting. Almost had a deer but a geek got to it first. Other than that shit I talked to Y/n after it all.. like the easiest thing in the damn world. Merle would call me a pussy if he knew I wrote in this damn journal. Anyway, goin' out as soon as possible with Rick an a few others to get Merle back.

The journal closes, Daryl's hand aching the slightest bit after he finished writing. He lay in the peacefulness of his tent for a few more minutes, then headed back out to camp. He grabbed his pack again, and another shirt, and reached for his bow before he remembered he'd left by the campfire.

Collecting his bow from where he'd left it earlier, he joins Glenn and T-dog over by the truck. It seemed they were the only ones ready to head out, as Daryl turns his head to see where Rick had gone.

Daryl watches Jim, Dale and Rick discuss from afar, pacing impatiently in the back of the truck. He grows tired of just watching them converse far enough away for him to be out of ear shot.

As he turns to Glenn in the driver's seat, Daryl presses his heel to the horn a few times.

"C'mon, let's go!" Their conversation breaks, Dale handing a pair of bolt cutters to Rick, finally heading towards the truck.

As Rick gets in the front seat, he loads his pistol. Daryl pulls the back door to the truck shut, the engine starting. Glenn put the truck in drive, and they were pulling out of the quarry.

The truck rumbled on top of the road, Daryl staring down T-dog in the back, as if that was going to be any type of useful. He sat across from him, with Glenn and Rick in the front seats.

"He'd better be okay. It's my only word on the matter."

"I told you, the geeks can't get at him. Only thing that's gonna get through that door is us." T-dog panted as he explained, once again.

Daryl wiped the corner of his mouth, listening to T-dog explain himself once again. Turning off the truck, Glenn peered behind him to the other two men.

"We walk from here."

The four men made it through a hole in a fence one by one, Rick breaking the silence to ask a question about the plan.

"Merle first, or the guns?"

"Merle! We ain't even having this conversation!" Daryl retorted quickly, not only knowing that it was quicker, but also due to the fact that he just wanted his brother back.

"We are." Rick turned to Glenn saying it's his call, since being the only one who knows the geography of the city.

To Daryl's surprise, Glenn mentions the words 'Merle first, guns second', and the rest of it is history.

They all scramble up the stairs of the building Merle had been chained on, energy straining low as the steps felt never ending.

7th floor, 8th floor... Damn how many levels does this place have?

Daryl's internal monologue of worry about his brother only made him that more eager to kick this damn door open already.

The guys paused as T-dog clipped the chain with his bolt cutters in one swift motion, Daryl growing impatient and using his foot to kick the door open as soon as it'd been freed from the chains. He darted out onto the rooftop, calling out Merle's name, hoping and praying his brother's voice would ring in his ears once again.

Though, there was no response to his call.

He ran frantically over to where the guys had said he'd been chained up, only to find a pair handcuffs dangling from around the metal rod.

What Daryl saw lying a foot away from the handcuffs was his brother's severed hand, and a hacksaw covered in blood.

"No.. No!"

Daryl looked back at the men of his group, despair in his voice and tears in his eyes, his cries of frustration and agony the only thing to be heard as they echoed throughout the city.

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