#walker 03 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taffycandyqt · 3 months

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hey so how do you think the 2003 tmnt would deal with having a s/o who they’ve not seen all month. They’ve only been texting. The turtles ask about it. And s/o messages that s/o has been injured all month and the turtles can come over if they want too. S/o forgot to mention they were injured. When they get to s/o place, s/o is moving around but they’re slow and struggling to do stuff, in a lot of pain, but is able to do it, but s/o is sick of laying down cuz that’s what they have been doing all month. They’re stubborn about not staying in bed, but they are not going to over exert themselves either. They are half way through healing clearly?

I haven't gotten many requests for the turtles and I love this prompt so much. All the boys are such worry warts it's honestly kinda funny. In my personal opinion there aren't enough 03' fics in the world so thank you!

Your Broken?!

TMNT 2003 turtles x gn reader

You got injured and haven't been able to see your boyfriend for a while. You tell them that they can come over for a visit but forget to mention a very tiny oh so important detail about your... injury.

Leo:

DID YOU BREAK YOUR SPINE??!

Oh he is so concerned, like WHAT DID YOU DO!?

Will not let you do literally anything.

You want water? No. Stay put I'll get it for you

Want a book from your shelf across the room. LAY THE FRICK BACK DOWN!

Now which one do you want?

If you tell him that your tired of doing nothing and you want to be able to at least walk around, he will still be very hesitant.

Of course he wants you to be happy but your still healing and he just doesn't want you to get hurt again.

Your making him nervous.

You'll compromise on him basically spotting you while walking around or do anything.

Bro is literally watching you like your life depends on it because in his eyes, it kinda does.

When you said Leo could come over to see you he wasn't expecting you to have a cast around your torso with a walker in your hands. For context, you had been hanging out with your friends when you made a small 'oopsie'. Now your back feels like someone hammered a nail into each one of your vertebrae. Then to add insult to injury, the walker makes you look like an old lady.

Regardless, you've been alone for a while now and figured your boyfriend would be some good company. He entered through your bedroom window right as you were coming back from the kitchen with a snack.

"Oh, hey!"

Leo walked to you quickly as he spoke, "What happened to you?"

You were quick to respond as he looked like he wanted to continue his questioning.

"I was just reckless with some friends a little while back, nothing to worry about." You smiled up at him hoping to distract Leo from your injury.

"If your hurt that bad you shouldn't be standing up come on."

He led you back to your bed and layed you down while he placed your snack on your nightstand.

"Leo please, the doctor said I'm fine to walk as long as I'm careful and use the walker."

"Just because you can walk doesn't mean it's good for you to be walking around."

"Oh, so your a doctor now?" You snarked jokingly.

"Y/n." Leo looked at you as to say, don't push it you know I'm right. You thought it was sweet how much he cared but you've been 'resting' for weeks. Your allowed to walk to the kitchen. And you told him so.

"PUH-leeeease, I'm so tired of laying in my bed and doing nothing. I want to walk around at least a little bit."

Leo sighed, "I-I don't know y/n, your hurt-"

"Leo, how bout' you walk with me to make sure nothing goes wrong? I get to do something and you get to mother me. Everybody's happy!"

"I'm not mothering you." Leo retorted while folding his arms like a pouty toddler.

"Of course not." You smiled back at him. He looked back at you and sighed, he then went and held your hand for a little bit. Maybe you you could walk around, just a little bit, with his help.

Raph:

When he sees you in pain his heart breaks, how could he let this happen to you?!

Spends the rest of the day hovering you.

On the inside is is just as panicked and convinced you could die as Leo.

On the outside however he's sitting and talking with you like normal.

If you want to get up and walk around he'll act like he's okay with it but you can tell by the look on his face that bro is cringing on the inside watching you move.

You so much as stutter on a step and he is right next to you, balancing you, and checking you like your broken all over.

He knows you can handle yourself its just, do you gotta walk around a do stuff when your still healing?

What if you do something and make it worse?!

Highkey dying on the inside.

However, because he feels the need to hide his real feelings about the situation, he inadvertently starts a fight with you instead.

He really didn't want to, YOU'RE JUST SO GOSH DARN FRIGGIN STUBBORN! GO TO BED!!

Please just let him mother hen you, he's legit so scared for you.

He'll do whatever you want just please stay in bed.

"So... how'd this happen again?"

You were cleaning up your room a bit when Raph payed you a visit. You had been living in your bed for a good month at this point and your bedroom was starting to feel more like a cave. Raph sat on your desk chair as he watched you like a hawk and tapped his foot on the floor.

"Fell down the stairs and fractured my hip. Just a hairline fracture though, nothing too serious" as you said that you ended up bending your body the wrong way and irritated your wound resulting in you grunting at the pain.

Raph hopped off the chair in seconds flat and quickly made his way over to you.

"Hey, don't over do it, jeez. Don't wanna make it worse than it already is."

"Thanks, just bent the wrong way is all. I'll be fine."

"Right." His response sounded strained and his lips formed a thin line as he pretended to be calm about this.

"Maybe you should lay down for a bit. Ya know, just to rest your hip and all."

"No that's okay, I my doctor said as long as I'm careful it should be fine for me to be up for a bit." With that you continued to walk around your room and tidy up.

"Well you did just tweak your hip just then didn't you? You don't seem to be being very careful to me." He folded his arms.

"Well lucky for you, you're not me and I know I'm being careful."

"Right, cuz being careful gets you falling down the stairs."

"Are we gonna have a problem Raph? Cuz you can go if you don't wanna be here."

"Wh- well maybe I will then!"

"There's your exit!" You gestured to the window were your boyfriend entered. Just then you tweaked your hip real bad and almost fell if it weren't for Raph's fast reflexes. He led you to your bed to sit you down as the pain subsided.

"This is stupid." He sighed, "listen, I'm sorry. I didn't mean- I j-just wanted to. Uuuug."

He put his face in his hands as he tried to piece together what it was that he wanted to say.

"Hey," you gently grabbed his wrist and moved his hands from his face, "I'm sorry too. I should have heard you out better."

"N-No! I shouldn't have gotten snappy with ya, I just want you to be careful. I don't know what I would do with myself if you got worse."

This made you smile. Though it may not always be obvious, Raph really did care about you and wanted the best for you.

"You know what? I have been up and about for a while now. I'm probably due for a break anyways. What do you think about ice cream?"

"I'll grab it for ya."

Donny:

Dude is legit gonna look over your injuries himself.

He's gonna act like a professional doctor didn't already look this over and patch you up the best they could.

You got a cast? SUCKS cuz he's got all the materials to take it off and get you a new one so he is looking at that injury to make EXTRA sure your okay.

For your sake you better pray it doesn't look that bad cuz bro will put you on a healing regimen.

If you're already doing physical therapy he won't want you to over do it. He also wont try to get you to do it if it's not that type of injury.

But if you need physical therapy and for some reason you can't get it? He will have you doing it religiously.

He will bring you foods that will help with the healing process and do whatever he can to make you happy.

Afterall, studies have shown that the chemical reaction of happiness helps support the healing process both external and internal.

No other reason.

On the other side of it though he just really wants to spoil you.

He loves spending time with you, and if he can make you happy while your bored and in pain he gladly will.

Donny had told you that he was going to leave and be right back. You said "okay" and didn't think much of it. That is till he came back with a whole freaking duffle bag full of medical tools and supplies.

"whatcha got there Don?" You sweat dropped. You had just gotten back from the bathroom to find Donny setting up a five year olds worst nightmare of medical tools in your bedside table.

"Oh, I got you a smoothie!" He smiled at you, "Here come sit down."

You made your way to you bed and placed your crutches to lean against the wall as Donny helped you lay in bed and handed you your smoothie.

"Thank you D but I was actually referring to the evil scientist starter pack you've graciously organized right next to me."

Donny laughed at that, "You're funny y/n. I'm just gonna to take a look at you leg and see if your okay."

"Don I've already been to the doctor. It's broken but it was a clean break and if I'm careful it should heal up quickly."

"That's good, but I'll believe it when I see it." With that he held a mini buzz saw in his hand and faced you, "Do you mind?"

"UM YES! I MIND VERY MUCH IN FACT!"

"This is all standard procedure y/n, I promise you won't get hurt. As for the cast, I have that covered too so there really isn't anything to worry about."

"How about I just show you my X-rays? You can see exactly what happened without having to go through all the trouble of taking off my cast yeah?" You spoke quickly, hoping to convince him of the alternative. You didn't think he would actually hurt you but having him stand over you with a saw was a bit intimidating. On top of that you'd prefer to keep your cast on.

"Hm... okay. Where are they?" He set the mini buzz saw down with the rest of the supplies and looked around to where they might be.

"Here I can get them for you." You began to reach for your crutches again. Donny, however, stopped you.

"That's okay, just tell me where they are and I can take it from there."

After he looked over the X-rays and concluded that you were actually fine he began to make you some food. It was supposed to "accelerate the healing process" but it was good food so you didn't care. Donny then spent the rest of the night talking and taking care of you. He got you any snacks you wanted and watched any show you wanted to turn on. Even ones you couldn't previously convince him to watch.

Whenever you moved to get up Donny was quick to try and coerce you back to bed with cuddles and kisses. The only times he couldn't was when you had to go to the bathroom. He couldn't really stop you then, so he would walk you there and back.

Mikey:

Mikey will panic, it's unavoidable.

However, unlike his brothers, his panic isn't helpful in the slightest.

Remember his iconic girly scream? Yeah. That happens

Instead of trying to get you to take care of yourself better or helping you himself bro will just scream you ear off.

"What happened?! Why are you standing?! Are you okay?!... Ect"

You legit have to pretend to fall over so bro will catch you and stop talking long enough for your to tell him your fine.

It takes a little bit to convince him that you are okay, and that you just healing.

When he does believe you he'll get a bunch of his favorite movies and just binge with you all day.

If you don't like horror you better tell him fast because Mikey is a horror fanatic and more than have the flicks in his collection are horror.

If you don't tell him you're in for a nightmare.

If you do like them however, y'all are gonna have a TIME.

You guys have so much fun ngl

Honestly he's the most chill out of all of them.

Just wants you to vibe while you heal.

"AAAH!"

"Okay."

"WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU ARE YOU OKAY SHOULD YOU BE STAND-"

And with that you were going down. Could you stand just fine? Yes. Was the only way to get Mikey to shut up long enough for you to explain by taking a nose dive to your bedroom floor? Also yes.

Lucky for you he was quick enough to catch you but not without a another short scream as he moved to do so.

Right as he was about to start speaking again you covered his mouth with your hand.

"I'm fine Mikey. I twisted my ankle but I would be right as rain in a couple more weeks."

"You just fell."

"You were just screaming."

"So you fell over?!"

"It's the only method I know that works." You shrugged.

He gave you a face that could only be described as 'wtf' but ultimately helped you over to you bed to sit down. And by 'helped' I mean, picked you up bridal style and dropped you like a ragdoll.

You looked at him confused and a little displeased with how he basically manhandled you. Mikey however was inspecting you ankle as carefully as he could manage.

"Are you sure your okay. You've got a cast and everything. How do I know your not downplaying your injury like you always do?"

He got you there. You don't like causing people stress so when you get hurt you tend to play it off like it's not as bad as it is, to your own detriment usually. Since dating Mikey however, he has been trying to get you out of that mindset. Honestly, it's been working. Especially since he has a tendency to worry more after finding out the truth than he would have if you had told it to him from the start. And Mikey always finds out.

"Mikey, I promise, it's not bad. I've been on bed rest for like a month. I may not be completely healed but I'm getting there."

He got close to you and stared you down with a scrunched up face trying to see if you were lying. When he decided he'd seen enough he stood up.

"I believe you, but even though your doing fine you should still stay off that ankle."

"Okay, but I do actually need to grab my laptop. I have some things to work on. I'll stay off of it for a while after that."

You moved to get up and grab your crutches only to be pushed back on the mattress.

"No no no," he wiggled his finger at you, "you can work on your own time. Now though, your being treated to the Mikey super awesome boyfriend entertainment special!"

"The Mikey super awesome boyfriend entertainment special?"

"Yup! Stay right there, don't move. I'll be back faster then you can say Silver Sentry!"

When he came back his hands were full of microwave popcorn, a large assortment of candy, and his whole movie collection.

He put the candy on your bed next to you and placed the box of movies in your lap.

"You pick our first flick, I'll go pop us some of this popcorn!"

"I'm sorry, our first?"

"Well yeah, you may be hurt but it's still not fair for you to choose all the movies during a marathon."

And with that Mikey left the room to head to the kitchen. You chuckled, what were you gonna do with that boy.

_______________________________________________Before you kill me, it's actually cannon that Donny's nickname in 2003 is spelled with a 'y'. I will not be spelling it that way with any of the others unless it is canonized. That being said, you can put your spears down.

#leo tmnt #donnie tmnt #mikey tmnt #raph tmnt #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2003 x reader #X reader #Fluff #leo x reader #donnie x reader #raph x reader #2012 mikey #2003 donnie #2003 leo #2003 raph #2003 Donny #Donny x reader

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goodwhump-temp · 6 months

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Allen Walker Whump | D. Gray Man

fellas, is it gay to think all lives are precious?

Ep.01 - Knocked back Ep.02 - Sliced/weapon arm damaged, [Flashback; knocked unconscious], nerve damage, pain (repair), restrained, electrified, nerve pain Ep.03 - Guilt, knocked back into wall x2, kicked Ep.04 - Stabbed, trapped under rubble, weak Ep.05 - Punched, swallowed, body exhausted, blood, weak, crying Ep.06 - Tackled x2, disrespected, onion bombed, crying, insomnia, shot, briefly infected Ep.07 - Traumatized childhood lore, collapse Ep.08 - Captured, tranquilized, weak, emotional Ep.09 - Tinnitus, pain Ep.10 - Hit with icefire blast, unconscious, captured Ep.11 - Pain from ripping out restraints, eye stabbed, hit with icefire blast, briefly unconscious, passes out, protected Ep.12 - Eye pain, slapped, crying, wounds re-appear x2, unconscious, bleeding out, hospitalized Ep.13 - Hospital cont., scared Ep.14 - Tired, sledding crash, hit with snow blast, buried in snow, passes out Ep.15 - Carried, fever Ep.17 - Knocked down, slashed multiple times, arm paralyzed, held pulled, bodyslammed Ep.18 - Stuck in octopus, upset (its not coming off) Ep.19 - Eye shot, pain, weak, bandaged, scared Ep.20 - Freaking out, finger bit, briefly weak (gas), caught in explosion, exhausted Ep.21 - Neck bit, knocked through wall, unconscious, dizzy, trips, pinned, crushed, punched x12, very weak, thrown, unconscious Ep.22 - Thrown out window Ep.23 - Smacked by vines x2, crying Ep.25 - Crying/overwhelmed Ep.26 - Heartbroken Ep.27 - Nausea/nervous, painful childhood lore (flashbacks; sprained ankle, knocked down, depressed, heartbroken, crying) Ep.29 - Knocked down, guilt Ep.30 - Knocked down, talks about mourning Mana Ep.31 - Sneezes x2 Ep.40 - Trips Ep.41 - Starving, shot, briefly infected, scratched Ep.46 - Cold & hungry, hallucinating, knocked down, sliced (saw blades), carried, unconscious Ep.47 - Starving Ep.48 - Knocked down Ep.50 - Knocked down x6, punched Ep.52 - Arm deteriorating, SNATCHED x2 Ep.53 - Consumed, intense pain Ep.54 - Hand bit through, bleeding, arm snapped, extreme pain, tears Ep.55 - Weak, ear bit, extreme pain x100, electrocuted, arm bitten, heartbroken, crying Ep.56 - Arm deteriorating, great pain, impaled, organs threatened, arm broken, choked, arm amputated & destroyed, heart bitten, dying Ep.58 - Heavily bandaged, crying x2, weak/limping, anguish, bleeding Ep.59 - Knocked down, kicked x3, bandages sliced, collapse Ep.62 - Intense eye pain (present and flashback), collapse, Ep.64 - Sliced x6 Ep.66 - Knocked down, depressed, struggling will, punched x2, angry outburst Ep.67 - Eye pain Ep.68 - Intense eye pain x2, collapse, unconscious, nightmare, impaled Ep.69 - Impaled, intense pain, deteriorating, unconscious, carried, weak, tackled, crying, sacrifice Ep.70 - Body cracking, electrocuted Ep.75 - Crying Ep.76 - Headbutted Ep.80 - Spiteful memories, shot by blue bullet Ep.81 - Debt trauma, angry Ep.82 - Depressed, trapped x3, suffocating, thrown, electrocuted, knocked down x2 Ep.83 - Electrocuted Ep.84 - Stunned, (08:10) Ep.86 - Electrocuted, knocked unconscious, arm cracked, bleeding, trapped in vacuum, weak, passes out, impaled Ep.88 - Punched x3, gut-kicked, electrocuted unconscious, engulfed in flames Ep.89 - (09:00) pain, punched, engulfed in thorns, great pain Ep.90 - Super punched x4, very weak, held, knocked down, 6 combo punch, unconscious Ep.91 - Knocked down x3, falls, thrown, heartbroken, bleeding, Ep.92 - Bleeding, angry, weak, uneasy Ep.93 - Uneasy, emotional timcanpy reunion Ep.94 - Hospital, Mana lore Ep.95 - Betrayed/tried for Heresay Ep.96 - Investigated/mana lore Ep.98 - Head squeezed x2, kicked, punched, unconscious Ep.100 - Heartbroken, crying, revolted, scared, intense pain, unconscious, devastated, passes out Ep.101 - Kicked, beaten, weak, seriously injured, bleeding Ep.102 - Knocked down x3, weak, motionsick, uppercutted Ep.103 - Exhausted, crying, pinned, weak/immobile, carried, crying,

HALLOW

Ep.01 - Arm electrocutedly bandaged, arrested, slapped, heartbroken, comforted Ep.02 - Kicked, headbutted, bleeding, possessed; crying, infected, shot x20, unconscious, weak Ep.03 - Weak, punched, stabbed, extreme pain, bleeding, talks about Mana Ep.04 - Dream; stabbed, bandaged, punched, thrown, bleeding, kicked Ep.05 - Pinned, choked, fighting control, bleeding Ep.06 - Mental overload Ep.07 - Angry, punched-ish (19:50), pinned, infected Ep.08 - Guilt, kicked, knocked down x2, body controlled, extreme pain, leg snapped, arm sliced, fighting control, stabbed, serious bleeding, unconscious, transformed Ep.09 - Caught in explosion, bleeding, crying, restrained Ep.10 - Restrained, imprisoned, crying, depressed, fighting control, weak/difficulty breathing, extreme pain Ep.11 - Extreme pain, panic attack, comforted, head grabbed Ep.12 - Hand haywire, scared Ep.13 - [Childhood; after Mana died/unconscious, thrashing, great pain, held down, mental problems, fatherly Cross moments, crying], weak, fighting control

MANGA

Chapt. 211 - Face rubbed painfully, upset Chapt. 212 - Fighting control, weak, crying, passes out, carried Chapt. 225 - Passes out

#whump #emotional whump #whump list #whumplist #anime whump #allen walker #allen walker whump #d. gray man #d gray man #d gray man whump #d. gray man whump

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meusamatus · 23 days

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Simon Walker | Watch Guide + Links

Simon Walker is a character from the English soap opera Hollyoaks, played by actor Neil Newbon.

He's a character in Brendan Brady's storyline, and appears during the episodes aired from the 11th of May of 2012 to the 19th of March of 2013.

Where can I DL the episodes? What's the watch order?

2012 episodes

2013 episodes

Hollyoaks Later episodes

Edit: ONLY Brendan and Walker scenes

The watch order is episodes from 11/05/12 to 14/09/12 >> Hollyoaks Later episodes 1, 3, 4 & 5 >> episodes from 25/10/2012 to 19/03/2013. Here's a link to the Wiki where all his episodes are listed. Beware of spoilers!!

Do I need to watch the entire series, or can I start with the 11th of May?

You can start with the 11th of May. Hollyoaks has many different characters and story arcs, but Simon Walker is only relevant to Brendan's story. Even if you haven't watched the previous Brendan episodes, it's very easy to follow. Characters will bring up and explain past plots because the show has been running since 1995, and the showrunners don't expect viewers to remember everything. The basic summary is that Brendan Brady is a criminal / gangster / drug dealer that operates from his (half) sister's club, the "Chez Chez". How and why he knows Simon Walker is explained soon after Simon appears for the first time.

There's too many irrelevant characters / story arcs happening at the same time! I'm only interested in Simon Walkers' plotline!

Somebody clipped and uploaded the scenes pertaining to Brendan's storyline here, so you can watch just those. Simon / Neil appears for the first time in the video named (241), but it's been taken down so you'll have to download / watch it from the Drive link above. There might be some other numbers missing too.

#hollyoaks #hollyoaks 2012 #hollyoaks later #brendan brady #simon walker #neil newbon #emmett scanlan

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milknhonies · 4 months

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The Negatives of Shooting People

Chapter 4 || MasterList || Chapter 6

Chapter Summary: August decides to test you with a taste of bondage which leads to a violent fit and a deadly confession...

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Non-Con, Description of Suicide & Self Harm, Trauma Dumping, Bondage, Daddy Kink, Oral Sex M!receiving, Fingering F! receiving, Child abuse, physical abuse, manipulation, subspace.

Pairing: Kingpin!August Walker X F!reader

Word Count: 8.3k

Author Notes:

★This chapter is based off of the real life events of my father's issues with women and his eventual death. He did toxic things but at the end of the day I still love him dearly and would sacrifice so much to have him back. He was my first best friend in this world. Please be kind. He is the reason I managed to write this story in the first place as a form of narration therapy

★Okay so I might be publishing this chapter earlier than I usually would because I'm doing a lot of packing and searching for a sharehouse or live in because I cannot stand my current housemate. I also am not sure if my rostered shifts will be taking on a new schedule. So please take this early chapter and be patient until I can post the following in 2-3weeks maybe... I'm not too sure honestly. Ciao Bella 😘

Inspiring Song: "Brutal" by Olivia Rodriguez

03:00pm Sunday 18th August 2024, Robertson, Brisbane

When the light hit your eyes you grunted and rubbed them with your fingers until they could handle the new bright light around you with the blindfold off.

You shivered staring up at him. Your eyes were still moist.

He had not changed his clothes. He was smiling softly down at you. He held something against your skin. Trailing the soft material along the goosebumps. Looking down at his mysteriously soft item you shrieked.

“No! No not the rope please stop! Not the rope!” You scooted away from him to the top corner of the bed, “Anything, tape, chain, ziptie but not the rope.”

His hand grabbed your ankle and dragged you viciously back to him. His hand pressed down hard on your chest and trapped you on the mattress.

You started screaming and hitting him. Punching his arms and kicking your legs. He slapped the rope beside your head and laid on top of you until you struggled to breathe and fight. His weight hurt so much, pressing on you arms and hips.

He shoved his forehead on top of yours. His nose nudged your cheek as you wept hard and blinked with those wet lashes.

“Please, don’t,” you whimpered, breaking back into another sob.

He exhaled and pressed his lips to your ear. His tongue was wet and breath hot. It felt ticklish and you had to fight the giggle in your throat. It came out in a horrid choking sensation. Tears peaked and fell down your face, wetting his.

“….the rope is the gentlest on the skin….” He purred heavily, “Why are you so frightened of it, huh?”

“Be-because,” you blubbered, “because my da-ad he-he-he….with rope.”

He sat up off you, letting you breathe and suck a healthy breath of air. You were frozen, laying down, too petrified to move.

August grabbed the rope again and twisted the tip with his fingers, “Is it because he hung himself?”

Your eyes widened. It was like a switch or spark or strike. Something lit the bubbling fuel of rage that had been sitting and mellowing deep in your belly.

'How dare he...'

You flung yourself forward and slapped him the hardest your body strength could manage. A loud ring of the skin bounced on the walls of his large empty home. His eyes were wide and his smile grew wider.

'How dare he!'

You felt the tsunami of anger and fury explode out of you. Your nails swiped him. You caught the skin of his neck and the back of his hand as you tried to claw out his eyes screaming from the bottom of your belly.

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up! Don’t say that! Don't you ever fucking say that again! You take it back! Fuck you! Fuck you!”

You tried to kill him. You pounced at him from the bed and gagged loudly as the collar and chain snagged your throat. You must’ve looked like a feral animal. Your teeth were nashing and your hands curled like claws at him as you screamed and yelled incoherently.

He grabbed your wrists and held them above your head in the air. You were no match for his strength. Your legs couldn't stretch out and try to kick him either. Your 'claws' were unable to scratch at any of him. His face wasn't smiling smugly. Instead he looked at you with confusion, perhaps pity?

You choked as your body seized, "Fu-ck you Aug-" you took in a shattering breath that burned your lungs, "Fuck you August! You piece of fucking shit!"

A part of you wanted to hear him take it back, to prove nothing very happened. Deep inside you yearned for no one to ever speak of those events because you could just pretend deep inside that it never ever happened. The shame and anger wouldn’t exist, the loss wouldn’t be as bad and permanent. You wanted to kill August for even mentioning it. He wasn’t allowed to talk about it, 'he has no right'…how did he even know? God you hated how much he probably knew about you.

'How much stalking did he do?'

He waited for you to stop screaming and waited until your sobbing had died down again. Your head pounded loudly in your ears as you let it fall and hang. Your tears dripped quietly on the bed covers.

August very slowly released your wrists. You lowered them and held them to your chest. They were sore.

You half expected August to slap you. But when you dared to look back up at him, towering above you still, he was untangling the folded rope. You gulped.

He pressed a knee onto the mattress and laid a hand on your naked chest. He barely needed to use much force, shoving you onto your back. You whimpered. Too scared to try and fight back again.

“O' my sweet, darling girl, Shhh” he cooed, his knuckles brushed the sweat beading on your face “How life has dealt you a poor hand…” he soft rolled you to lay on your front.

You felt your body relax. He rubbed your spine with the flat of his hand smoothly. You shut your eyes and hiccupped loudly.

You were tired and especially depressed. You didn't want to go to sleep but you also wanted to wake up from whatever nightmare this was. You sincerely hoped he would just kill you at that point. Why did he have to torture you like this?

August grabbed your two wrists and tugged them behind your back, sending you into a shock again feeling the line of material on your skin.

“Please no rope!”

You couldn't pull your hands back but twisted and turned pulling and making it difficult for him to tie any safe knit around your hands. He clicked his tongue and smacked your hip.

“Look at me,” he said and waited until your eyes glanced at him, flooded in glassy tears, “You’re safe, I won’t hurt you with the rope. I promise.”

“Y-your promises mean fuck all!” You hissed with wobbling lips, “You sick fuck!”

You heard him drag out a long. His thumbs rubbed the inside of your wrists.

“And I promise you’ll regret that comment, but I digress…I’m here to help you.”

“Help me?...Help me!?”

You screamed as he began to wrap the cord around your wrists again, “Stop! Get off me! No! Please!” You sobbed hard and tried to kick him but it was met with a sharp slap to your backside, “Please! I’m begging you. For the love of God, stop! No rope!” He tightened the tie around your wrists and push you totally onto your belly.

His hands wrapped your ankles tightly and started to push them up your wrists. Your face turned to the side and you squeezed your eyes shut attempting at the last second of anything that could get him to stop.

You swallowed any sense of pride you had left.

“Daddy….” You panted, “Please Daddy stop it. Please stop tying. Daddy please.”

His fingers paused and he left go of your ankles. It was a hiccup of relief that left your mouth.

“Good girl,” his hand said subbing his thumb over the back of your neck, “You’re learning.”

The air in your lungs was disappearing, you hated yourself for submitting to him like this. You tightened your lips and tensed as his breath fanned your face.

“Open your eyes,” he demanded, you obeyed.

“Look at me,” he said, you obeyed.

He had a softened expression on such a hard face. He had this Dr. Jeckle and Hyde side about him.

He would look so sweet and kind and then the next turn into this hardened angry man.

He scared you.

He pushed you to roll back in your back. Your tied arms were crushed underneath you. You were helpless and scared.

He unlocked the chain from the collar.

“Deep breath in,” he asked and laid a hand on your belly. You obeyed.

“And out.”

A breath came out sounding like a gasp and yawn and moan. You were exhausted.

“Now, you are going to not fight me, not squirm. I have kindly let you through your tantrum, now you’re going to be a good girl and lay across my lap. I want you to talk to me and if you stop talking, I’m going to spank you. Do you understand?”

You pouted, “No.”

“No?”

“I don’t want you to hit me,” you whined.

He chuckled and ran his thumb gently cross your cheek, “Good, because I want you to talk.”

“About what?” you sniffled loudly.

“How did you find out. About him…your father.”

Your eyes widened and you shook you head dismissively, “No, I don’t want to talk about that.”

“You will,” August recounted.

“I won’t…you c-can’t make me!” you snapped.

Within seconds he sat on the bed and hauled your body over his lap, delivering three hard and loud spanks. As you wailed he rubbed the rising welts on your backside. The heat of your blood screamed to the top of your skin.

“You said that with a little too much confidence,” August muttered, squeezing the stinging flesh, “Let’s try that again, yes?”

“You knew he…” you choked, unable to share the gruesome truth yourself, “did that with the rope. That’s how. That's all there is to say.”

August’s hand left another scorching mark across your arse cheek. You tried to squirm, you tried to push away but his other arm tightly hugged your middle.

“Say it. How he did it,” August commanded.

You spat back with a screech in you tongue, “You already know!!!”

He spanked you again before yelling, “Say it!”

“He fucking killed himself!” You roared, “Is that what you want to hear, you arsehole!? He took a piece of rope, tied it to the ceiling fan and fucking hung himself!!!”

You swore the whole room shook along with your anguished voice.

“And why did he do it?” The billionaire asked the billionaire question.

You hissed, “Go to fucking hell August!” Another stinging wack of his palm.

You could hear the venom drop from his tongue as he grabbed the back of your neck and pinchingly pulled.

“Why did he do it!?”

“Because he fucking hated me!" You squealed in defeat, "He hated me! He couldn’t stand to look at me! I was his mistake!”

Your throat was sore and scratched. He let go of your neck.

After a few embarrassing moments of silence you could hear his voice softenly ask, “And how are you his mistake?”

“Stop!”

He grabbed the back of your head and tugged it up, he grunted into the shell of your ear, “How? Tell me or I’ll belt your arse so raw it’ll bruise and you won't sit for a fucking week!”

When you put up more silence, you were pushed forward and could hear the clinking of his belt coming undone.

“Teen pregnancy,” you hastily blurted, wincing, hoping he wouldnt just use his belt already, “He didn’t know my mum was underage. When she had me, she left us, she left me with him. He took custody. He couldn’t find anyone to replace my mum, he hated me for it- I know he did. He got girlfriends and they didn’t last long…they didn’t want a kid so soon in their lives, so his heart was broken more than once.”

You took a gulp. Your hands behind your pack trembled. His fingers rubbed your inner thigh and pinched your backside.

“Is that the only reason he hated you?” August asked softly.

“No,” shaking your head you shuddered, “it’s not.”

“Why else?”

It hurt, god it hurt to say it…to be forced to confess the honest agony.

“Because I wasn’t a boy and even as a girl I wasn’t pretty. He never said I looked beautiful or pretty when I asked, he just looked away and shrugged...why was I so ugly?” You complained, “Why do I have to look so much like the worst parts of my parents? It’s not fair!” Your nose sniffled as your eyes began to sting hot.

Your kidnappers soft voice then asked, “What else wasn’t fair?”

“H-how he loved his wife more than me. He picked her up one day and said I needed to start calling her my mum and I couldn’t, she was only eleven years older than me, it was weird. I didn’t understand why he chose someone who was only twenty years old at the time, and why he didn’t believe me when I told him how she hurt me when he was at work….he only hit her once he walked in on her choking me…when I started to bleed from the cut on my face. She moved out and started cheating on him. God, I hate how he still loved her.”

“He saw her hurt you like that…and he still loved her? How did you know she was cheating on him?”

His fingers started to do wickedly things. The tips tickled at your labia and dip down to dance along your clit. You hissed and tightened your thighs around his hand, but it didn’t stop him rubbing and molesting you.

You talked, not wanting another spanking and know full well there was nothing to stop him trying to pleasure your cunt.

“Her boyfriends would come around asking to see her. They’d try to come in and touch me too but I’d threaten to call the police and they’d be flying out the door.”

August sighed happily as he felt your heart beat throb against your pussy. He condescendingly asked, “Your dad knew this was happening?”

You whimpered and shook your head, your cheek rubbed the duvet. Your shut your eyes and grunted as a finger prodded your hole. You knew this was sick.

“Yes! And then he tried to slit his wrists to guilt his bitch wife to come back but I called the ambulance in time and got the blood…the bleeding to…to stop….”

“That explains the scars. But that's not what killed him.”

You nodded, he was right.

“He…” you paused as August slid two fingers into your pussy and slowly pushed then in and out, your breath hitched. It was wrong what he was doing to you. And it was wrong you softly moaned.

“Dad got out of the hospital after forty eight hours.”

Your hands clenched in fists, August could see that, you grunted, “They let him fucking loose! I was so angry at him. I told him he could kill himself only after I finished highschool.”

You remembered that look on your dads face as he pouted in his recliner refusing to look you in the eye. What did you expect after you spent hours screaming at him? You were only seventeen. You had to go to school knowing your dad was in hospital and there was a chance he could die….all that blood….red was your least favourite colour for a long while. You didn’t say anything to teachers, you didn’t need to deal with the police asking questions and making things worse with child protection.

Your sighed and felt August’s fingers stop fucking you gently. They paused and pulled away. Your breath hitched as your body felt empty of his hot digits. He drew soft lines on your ass with your wetness.

You heard him warn,“….you know what happens when you grow silent or should I remind you.”

You said nothing and bared the pain of the spank. A hissed caught through your lips but you whispered.

August didn’t catch it at first and made you repeat. You felt flushed. You couldn’t believe you were actually asking him.

You weren’t crying anymore, you didn’t want to, you were angry and sad.

“August…if I call you Daddy…will you let me sit up and…hug me?”

The sound of his inhaled was like a contemplation, “I’m not sure…that’s a special privilege…why don’t you try and ask nicely?”

You opened your eyes and looked over your shoulder at him and whimpered, “Pl-please hug me Daddy.”

He slid a hand beneath your chest and held your hip as he pulled you up and turned you around. He crossed his legs on the bed and swaddled you in his arms. Your hands were still behind your back, your hot bottom stuck onto his trousers.

“C’mere sweetheart,” his voice broke you, you started to whimper and dug your face into his shoulder and cried into his warm cotton shirt.

“Daddy’s got you, all safe now.” He said as he rocked you and let you compose yourself. You pressed your cheek to his collarbone and shut your eyes.

How could a cruel man like him become soft?...

He asked and held your cheek as he rocked very slowly, “And what happened after you gave him permission to end his own life?”

'It wasn't permission, it was a last chance to plea...'

“He did as promised…he waited…and waited…and then when he said he was going to end his marriage I was actually happy for him.” Your voice trembled, “I said he was smart and told him that he…he…wait…no…that’s not right...I-”

You swallowed and squeezed your eyes opened as horror and realisation poured from your puffy mouth, “I said ‘It's about time…’ and the-then he gave me all of his cameras. And left. A few hours he came back, he told me he went to see his wife and I knew he meant he went to go sleep with her….I got so angry.”

You sighed, “I threw something at him?…a cup? A plate? It doesn’t matter. I didn’t even feel guilty for doing it…I was happy I made him sad…for the first time I fed off the glee that he felt shitty…I said he was a ‘fucking loser and a dumb ass.’ I said he shouldn’t have ever had me, should never gotten married and if he was going to keep letting himself get fucked over by his wife he should….”

You cut yourself off. You whimpered and buried your nose into August’s armpit.

Why did he have to smell so good? Why didn’t this man have terrible body odour?

You heard him tut and pulled your shoulder away from him. He cupped your jaw and ran a thumb over your bottom lip.

“What did you say?…Y/N?”

“I said…” you gasped and cried, “he should go fuck himself and stop the pity party because it was me that should be sad and suicidal, not him.”

With another suck if air you growled and glared into August’s eyes, “But…God…deep down I said in my mind that he should kill himself and make it easier for me to hate him. It’s all my fault.” Your eyes looked up to the ceiling while your face contorted.

August leg go of your face and brushed his fingers through your hair as he said soothingly, “Your thoughts didn’t kill him.”

Your naked body pressed into him. You couldn’t hold the balance for to long and leaned against him. Your nose touched his and you frustratedlg groaned, “B-but I was so mean to him…I threw a plate at him. I called him names. I bullied him and argued…I…I killed him. I know it was me.”

August kissed your cheek and slid you down back to his chest to hug you. He turned your hips out and patted your bottom softly.

You didn’t need prompting anymore from him.

“And normally every night I’d always ask him at dinner how his day was, I’d tell him I’d loved him and that I was going to bed and would see him in the morning before he’d go to work. He would get up at four am and leave at five am. He drove a truck around town, delivering to the Asian grocery stores and bars, he was their favourite delivery driver…they’d give him presents and free food all the time.”

“Yea?” August cooed, “What else? Did you wish him a goodnight?”

You mewled, “No, I didn’t. I-I was so m-mad. I told him I hated him and I said he wasn’t allowed in my room. I slammed the door so-so hard…he didn’t go to work and I felt like he was grumpy at me, his door was shut…When it was six am I made him some breakfast and I put it outside his door because he didn’t answer my knocking…”

You took a pause and swallowed to stop yourself crying, you forced a pitiful laugh from your mouth, “I was such a cunt…I remember saying something stupid like ‘’fine be a prick.” I started to clean my room and do the laundry and by nine am he still hadn’t grabbed the porridge. I got…a little frustrated -but I felt sorry for throwing the cup or plate and I knew he was upset. I went in to go wake him up or to apologise…”

You grew totally silent and August waited patiently.

You whispered into his neck, “His feet…I-I saw his feet first and you know what’s sick?” you smiled weakly.

August smiled and whispered back, “What’s sick?”

“I laughed and asked dad, ‘’how did you figure out how to float like that?” And I remember the stab of shock that jolted in me the moment it clicked…” you licked your bottom lip and shrugged, “his forehead was swollen and his eyes not fully shut. Lips a little blue… It was awful. I can’t forget that look.” You sighed and looked August in the eye, “He….he looked like he was made of wax…the moment I knew what he had done I grabbed his legs. I tried to pull him down. And when I couldn’t figure out how to get the rope off the fan I tried to use his phone to call help. His phone was flat. I tried to run to my room and grab mine but I tripped over the bowl of porridge and hit the ground hard.”

You remembered the loud this and the slippery wetness on your side. Your face cringed and you pulled your knees up in August’s lap a little more. He continued to pat your backside.

“I was screaming. I remember the pain in my chest. I couldn’t breathe. I had to crawl to my phone because it was too painful to walk. I barely remember the woman on the phone. But she tried to ask me to check his pulse and I didn’t want to go back into the room.”

You gasped, “God I didn’t but I did….I had to. And I couldn’t feel anything. I couldn’t hear his belly move or his heart beat. I remember standing for a very long time, just holding his legs trying to get him to stand up on my shoulders or, to move. He was freezing…he…I don’t know how long….but…the um…the officers came in, they…I don’t know how they got in…maybe they picked the lock. They got him down and took him out. I got mad they didn’t let me come ….one officer told me it wasn’t an ambulance so I couldn’t come…I don’t think I was able to accept that he died, not until they wrung me up a week later to tell me he was ready to be released and have a funeral set up. A part of me thought he would wake up like a miracle…like he could just do some supernatural shit…like he would come home that evening or the next morning and ask me to make him porridge. And he’d smile and say he just felt sad or something and-and that he would buy me some noodles or some sponge cakes when he went to work tomorrow...”

You angrily whined, “But he didn’t…fucking arsehole. He left me…he…died…he…hated me and chose….the easy way out…”

August rubbed your back and whispered, “Cry.”

“What?” you shuddered not understanding what he was saying.

“You’re allowed to cry. You want to cry….so cry,” he said.

Your blinked once, twice and then the damn broke entirely. You wept into his shoulder and just started to blabber, “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Pl-please don’t spank me Daddy.”

He sympathetically crooned, “O' my sweet girl, no more, you don’t have to talk about it anymore if you don’t want to, daddy has heard enough.”

After some time of more sobbing and rocking in his arms you rubbed your eyes and yawned.

“I’m so tired,” you moaned and smiled sadly at the feeling of his warm chest vibrate with a chuckle.

“I bet you are poppet, lay back” he pulled away and lifted the bed covers. He lifted you up and slid your legs inside beneath the layers. “You can have a nap,” he whispered sweetly as his fingers tugged at the knot of your bound wrists. When the came undone you curled them Infront of you and rolled onto your side facing him. He locked the chain to your collar and smiled at you. You smiled back.

Jesus…your brain felt fuzzy about that…he forced you to talk about your father and how it was your fault, he humilated you worse than when you cummed in the recliner in your apartment…and you….wanted to fucking thank the man….'what the actual fuck?'

Something made you want to accept this condesending treatment as long as he held you and cradled you and let you cry without a fear of judgement.

To this day you’ll never understand what possessed you to do it… but you could never take it back. As he started to shift away and move off the bed, your hand shot out and wrapped itself around his wrist.

“N-no, don’t leave me, please,” you begged, your eyes soaked the pillow while your wet lips trembled.

He looked down at your hand and softly sighed, he leant down to your head and kissed your temple, “I’m right here, I’m not going far, I’m going to grab you some painkillers because I know you’re going to have a headache soon.”

“N-no!” you whined.

His eyes widened before his voice hardened in a commanding grunt, “Y/N…let go of me…be a good girl…”

You didn’t….you couldn’t. Your hand squeezed tighter. He touched it with the rope and noticed how you flinched off him in seconds like the rope had magically burnt your hand.

He nodded and pursed his lips, “I promise I’ll be back in five minutes.”

He made true to the promise…he returned in four minutes and forty seconds…how did you know? Because you desperately counted ever single one until your abuser returned.

A cup in his hand and a pill in his palm. You didn’t have the guts to ask if it was a pair killer or the same drug that forced you unconcious when he first fucked you.

“Open up those pretty little lips.”

Your mouth parted, he popped the pill in and held the edge of the cup to your thirsty chapped lips, “Drink.”

You guzzled the water down and let out a relieved gasp as he set it aside on the table. “Good girl.”

As he turned, you realised he was going to the door. Leaving… “W-wait!” you called and weakly sat up.

He paused at the door. His fingers traced the metal handle, “Yes?”

“D-don’t leave me…” your sucked in a deep and demeaning breath as you pleaded to him, “D-daddy please don’t go.”

You peeled the blankets back and struggled to crawl out towards him. His blue eyes blinked. He reached up and scratches his chin, observing your pathetic state. He tilted his head.

“What do you want?”

“I…I…” You struggled to answer, your bottom lip buried beneath you teeth, you sucked hard and whispered, “I want you to stay…I want…you to cuddle me again…please.”

A smirk spread in the corner of his mouth, “And what will I get in return?”

It was wounding…the concept you had to earn his affections now…where was the free treatment from that day you first met him?

You didn’t even know what you could offer him.

“I don’t have anything…I…I have barely any money...I don't know what you've done with my purse.”

He chuckled cruelly, “You have a commodity…your body. You have a mouth…”

Your eyes widened. It clicked what he was hinting at. You were unsure if you really want to just for a hug…but after such a long couple days and confusion in your life, you would offer anything for a moment of peace.

“I’ll suck your cock…” your mouth quivered, “Please just hold me…I’m tired and I’m scared. Please!”

He looked you up and down one last time before sighing and nodding. Your hands reached out like a sad needy puppy. His fingers cupped them and guided you back to your original spot.

He moved the chain away from you both. You kneeled and shut your eyes waiting for him to just use your mouth….

“Y/N…scoot over. You can do it in the morning.”

Relief washed over your head like a cold ice bucket.

He pushed your body away as he took off his shoes and socks. He slipped beside you and dragged you to his side.

He playfully scolded you, “I spoil you rotten.” His finger tapped your nose. He kissed your forehead and watched you happily sigh.

Your eyes started to grow droopy. You knew it was the unknown drug he used on you weeks ago. You grew tired too quickly for it not to be.

As your body felt motionless and gooey you let your head roll onto his shoulder. Your mouth uncontrollably starting to drool onto him. He was smiling and stroking your head almost lovingly.

You weren’t sure if he was going to use you while you fell into your drugged sleep but you were happy to have this small peace. Even if he killed you…you were going to die at peace.

“Goodnight,” you heard and fell into the mindless nothingness.

08:02am Monday 19th August 2024, Robertson, Brisbane

You had absolutely zero knowledge of what day it was, how long you had been with August, or where he had kept your clothes…when you woke up though, your eyes watched the ticking of his expensive looking watch. It’s handles moving slow at a time of eight am.

Your head slowly rose. Your chain reflected from the morning sunlight burning from the windows.

You held down the yawn building in your throat and glanced over your shoulder.

August was out cold.

His face was totally relaxed. His bushy eye brows however left a certain hardness to his face. His lips were slightly parted and a soft snore left through them.

He was handsome and it hurt you knowing that beautiful men could be as evil and abusive as ugly men. A beautiful man was probably more ugly because they could hide their evil better.

You gulped and tried to move carefully. You had no idea what waking up a man like him could do to you…and you remembered sincerely of the promise to suck his cock.

You had never sucked cock before...and it disgusted you to think about...

'Men pee from there, why do people even do blow jobs?...ew.'

But you promised, in exchange for this. A loving cradling in a bed with him. And as wonderful as it had felt for a brief moment, you couldn't help but resent your past promise to him.

The more time you put it off, the better.

As you moved you felt something metal press against your ass. Your fingers slowly and carefully picked at it. Lifting the small object to the light…it reflected light into your eye.

A tiny silver key…

The key….

To your chain….

You didn’t hesitate, you slowly unlocked it, trying to be as quiet as humanly possible. As the pad lock clicked open and the chain grew loose. You settle the chain careful on the pillow and away from his arm.

It was scary, the tension of moving your backside across the bed sheets. Your toes touching the carpet. Trying to move slow enough to move nothing. You pushed up and stood.

He hadn’t woken up not moved a inch. You swallowed and stood away from the bed. You stood confused and naked. You couldn't think about searching for clothes in this bedroom. You didn't know where he had stored your stolen gown. Your feet tiptoed to the open door.

You didn’t know if there was a home phone on a wall somewhere. You wondered where he had your clothes and most importantly your purse with your phone.

You recalled him stepping on your phone in the park and considered that it was probably destroyed and thrown away...August had such a fierce look about him. You shuddered and worried to see it again if he woke up soon with you missing.

You looked at the key on you and…you were desperate.

Shoving the metal in between your teeth, it slip to the back of your mouth and your eyes screamed as it swallowed and scratched the entire way down your throat.

There was no way you wanted him to chain you back to the bed. And something suggested confidently to you that the padlocks on the gag and blindfold were the same as the bed chain.

You found his room. You knew the millionaire would have a closet in his own master bedroom.

It was beside the bathroom. A walk in. Your purse was sitting on the centre island. You gasped and ran to it and dumped the contents. You found your phone and almost sobbed… the screen was shatter and it wasn't turning on.

With all the strength you mustered you kept your mouth closed and your brain calm. Your costume dress was still missing, you didn't have time to waste. You stole one of his shirts. It was hanging in a long collection, organised by shades of white, navy, grey and black.

'Definitely a psychopath. No one is this particular or maybe his housekeeper is. Does he have a housekeeper? Surely? He is rich enough.'

His shirts, trousers and blazers where either folded neatly or hanging in the open spaces after all being beautifully ironed.

You buttoned the shirt up. You couldn’t find his underwear. You found some sweat shorts and tried tightening them around your waist. His shorts that probably cut off at his knees ended at your mid calf.

God he was so fucking huge. It made you remember why he was so intimidating. His height…

You took your purse and even broken phone. Dashing out his closet and room you bolted down the hall and staircase.

You tried your best to remember where everything was, including the exit. You found the kitchen and stole a carving knife from a butcher block set.

If he or anyone wanted to fuck with you, you wanted to make it clear that there was gonna be a blood spill.

You would be okay going to jail for assault if it meant you got out of this shit alive. You just needed to run.

You got to the glass doors that led to the outdoor pool in the gardens and patio it would lead to the back yard or some sort of garage where you might find a security button to open the front gates and sprint to the nearest bus stop. Unlocking every piece you smiled as the glass easily slid open.

You felt the cold morning air hit your face and body. His clothes were light and did barely anything against the wind.

You stood onto the concrete platform and heard something shuffle around the bushes of the garden. For a moment you thought you were crazy hearing a growl…a animal growl…a dog growl…your eyes glanced to your side. Your fingers tightened around the kitchen knife.

You held your breath as you met the sight of a dog, no- no, a big fucking dog. A small bear if you might humour yourself. This dogs bottom was in the air while his head was on the floor, teeth bare and growling.

It’s massive coat was pricked up and defensive.

And when it pounced, you squealed and ran back inside, launching the glads door back closed. You heard the beast yelp as you closed the door on the tip of its nose.

It’s teeth was gnashing and biting as it barked at you through the glass.

You held up your hand to block the door from gliding open. You frantically turned the knob to lock it.

Fuck! August would wake up and find you missing if this wild animal kept barking. You felt like an idiot. Of course August would have at least one guard dog.

The moody guard dog huffed and turned around before bolting back and slamming itself onto the door.

The shock had you falling on your arse.

Or rather...into someone’s arms.

His strong muscle appendages caved around you. His hand grabbed your knife wielding hand harshly, twisting your wrist until you were forced to let it go.

The blade clattered loudly as you screamed and grunted pathetically.

August held you strong and walked backwards until he could sit on the couch with you squirming in his lap.

“Oh look at you, miss escape artist…” a whine caught in your throat as his nose shoved itself against your jaw. His voice heavily rasped, “Planning on trying to run off? O' believe you me…” he patronised, looking at his aggressive dog back at you “That would be a terrible idea…”

He slapped your inner thigh. You jumped and hissed from the sudden pain.

This morning would be one to remember for a while.

“I see you’ve met Kal!” His fingers dug into your sides. You sneered at him and grabbed at his hands, weakly pulling him off.

“You didn’t have a dog last time!” you whined as you squirmed.

He snickered and forced your legs over his hips. His hand snuck down into the stolen shorts and he kisses your neck as he rubbed at your clit.

“He was here last time, I swear but he was in his kennel that day and I wanted you all to myself.”

You sighed as his large fingers played and soothed you to a unpredictable horny mess.

There was no use fighting when he had you so caught up. You really weren’t sure if he would beat you but the memory of the recliner and the spanking in the guest bed were fresh to remind you how he could play with you if you refused or displeased him.

You wanted to get out alive. He caught you out of bed with his stolen clothes, your broken phone and a knife in hand. It wasn’t a good appearance.

He didn’t let you cum. No. He pulled his hand away before you reached the sweet completion.

Your bum felt his bone hard erection and struggled to move away from it.

“Do you know how much trouble you’re in? Answer me Y/N,” he softly pressed.

You shook your head and tried craning your neck back to kiss his prickly cheek.

“No…no I…I just…”

“Just thought you could leave without making good on your promise? You have a cock to suck… are you ready for that?”

You shook your head again and confessed strongly, “No, I don’t know how to do that….I said it because I was scared.”

He laughed again and chewed the bottom of your ear, “Oh? Then this will be exciting.”

He pulled your dazed body off and pressed you onto your knees on the carpet rug. Between his thighs, you swallowed and looked up at him. Smirking with a sadistic tilt to his head, August looked like a fallen angel.

You gagged as you watched him lift the hand that was just fucking you up to his lips. He licked and sucked each digit like they were a delicious treat. His exaggerated moans of pleasure had you rolling your eyes.

After another moment he put his hands back and jerked his chin at you.

“Well? Unzip me. Go on.”

His dogs barking made it hard for you to hear him but with your eyes following his lips and direction of eyesight you knew what he wanted out of you.

He watched with a lazy gaze as your finger tips pinched his zipper and tugged down the opening.

His flaccid dick, unprotected from any underwear greeted your sight.

With warm hands and a wish you had for any chance of forgiveness from him for trying to run out on him; you collected his cock into your palms.

It felt warm and lame for a moment before a great pulse cause you to jump and the member to flinch and twitch. His veins bobbed slightly.

You tried thinking about what girls in porn did…they always did this hugging thing with their breast. Motorboating? Tit surfing? You unbuttoned his stolen shirt in one hand while holding and squeezing his heavy cock in the other.

He was staring as you shed the silky shirt to the floor. You sat at his feet with your breasts bare. You wondered what was going through his head…he wasn’t just a lustful predator….he was a calculating business man.

That led you to ponder on if this was like a business transaction? You asked for his kindness and in exchange you had to debase yourself as his personal unpaid whore…

To make matters worse, you were unsure if catching you trying to escape would lead to some sick punishment like how he caught you in the club.

You were annoyed that if you made it out alive there was no evidence of those deals or the murder of the Melbourne Embezzler.

You were still behind in your plot of revenge and as tempting as it was just to bite his cock off with your teeth, you’d never leave this place alive…not even a chance…

You sat up a little on your knees and shuffled closer. You pulled at his cock some more until it was entirely hard in your palm.

He smirked before he mockingly asked, “Are you going to fucking suck it or am I just waiting here until you turn me off enough to lose interest?”

With widened eyes, you sheepishly stared at the pink thick sausage in your hand and cringed.

Your tongue timidly poked out and you licked at his tip. He sighed, but it was full of impatience. A strange anxiety filled you… overwhelming fear of disappointing him. You knew logically it was dumb. You didn't respect August why did you care what he actually thought of you? You just needed to get out of there alive.

Your tongue and lips spread kisses along his wide shaft before you opened your mouth as wide as you could and attempted to put him in your mouth. You looked crazy. Your teeth trying to stay wide open but your lips peeled back away from them….

August laughed at you, “Are you planning to bite my cock off with those rows of fangs?”

Eyes filled with confusion and self-conciousness fluttered up at him. His thumb rubbed along your cheek and he told you to wrap your teeth up in your lips and to stick out your tongue more.

Now it was truly humiliating…following his instructions and wagging your tongue out like some dog.

Your eyes glanced to the left where the glass doors were now empty of his fluffy beast.

His hand pushed your mouth down a little further. Your cheeks felt full with his girth along and when his head hit the bag if your throat, you loudly wretched and pulled back but found his hand forcing you back down onto him. Your spit flew out messily on his cock. Your eyes watered instantly at the irritating sensation. You felt suffocated and choked in his thick appendage.

It was confronting to have something so big being pushed back into your mouth. You gagged on just two fingers, you had no clue what you must’ve looked like with a cock a third of a way in your mouth.

He did it over and over until you scratched at his hand and he let you pulled back, falling back on your ass and rasping for breath.

You heaved and swiped your mouth and tears. You hoped you wouldn’t have to ever do that again and next time you wanted something from him you’d never promise a blow job.

“If you want to leave today, you have to do something for me…”

You were stupid…you were desperate…you asked “What?”

“Open your mouth.” He commanded.

You winced, afraid he would shove it back into your mouth…you obeyed. You didn’t expect the assault of his thick cum spraying across your face. Some dropped into your mouth as it flew. Most of it stuck in your hair and dribbled down into your eyes.

He chuckled at the sheer horror of shock written over your face covered in his pearly cum.

You were about to wipe it away until August grabbed your wrist brutally and shook his head.

“You belong to me. I own you. You aren’t going to clean this off until you get home. Do I make myself clear?”

A shuddering breath escaped you as you nodded.

'Home?'

He was letting you go…you couldn’t understand why he was so lenient with your freedom. You accused him of rape and yet you lived…he killed a man just for a small crime of embezzlement…

But you were graciously relieved.

You were surprised he let you put on his stolen shirt again. He pinched a nipple but he gave you back your purse and broken phone while he called someone to pick you up. A driver. Jude.

August took you out front of the house once the black vehicle arrived and slipped inside of the car with you. He leant across and buckled you in reminding you that he liked this power dynamic even through the little things. Wiping you clean, buckling your seat, feeding you...you wouldn't call it infantilism the entire way...it felt like the motive was to humiliate, not to take care of you...The entire time was filled with a stretchy and uncomfortable pull of tension.

You didn't face the rearview mirror in case Jude could see all the embarrassing white cum drying on your face and in your hair.

“I…I-” you tried to ask but fell silent and afraid. The cum was drying on your face, a perfect reminder of your place. Beneath him.

He looked at you with interest, “What’s on your mind?”

“I am…confused…why haven’t you just killed me yet? I’m disposable, and I know you already know if I go missing…no one is going to look for me…”

He didn’t take his eyes off you and you couldn’t even meet them. Your knees rose up against your chest.

His finger touched the skin beneath your chin and made you look at him.

“Because…Y/N…I am not someone to throw away my toys so easily. You are a important posession and it would be very stupid of me to waste you."

He leant in and kissed you softly, breathing against your soft lips, "You’ve got a tight cunt and a dead father to thank for that.”

That made you lunge…you slapped his face hard. The sound cracking. Everything was dead silent. Even Jude was holding his breath. You turned your body away and cowered in the door.

“Fuck you…fuck…you.” You sobbed. You didn’t like how he mentioned your dad. It made you think on how he forced such a terrible confession from you about the days that it all went down.

You expected him to hit you, to make you beg for mercy.

Only his cheek flinched as his pale flesh became a mean pink in the shape of your fingers. He sat back and nodded slowly.

He knew that was too far. He smirked..

'that selfish fucker.'

He didn’t harm you like you feared he would.

He brought you home and you half expected him to invade your space, rape you again for your outburst in the car. But no…he took you up the stairs. Unlocked the door and returned your key.

He chuckled at the sight of all your installed locks, "Here I thought Jude was pulling my leg..."

He shook his head and smiled. Before you could run inside and slam the door shut he blocked your path with his hand. He leant his head down and purred. With his other hand he fingered the leather around your throat.

And then he asked, “Mind telling me what you did with the key to the bondage gear?”

Your hand cupped your throat…you still wore the collar…fuck…

You bit your lip and shook your head, “I ugh…swallowed it…” you confessed.

His eyes slowly widened in disbelief. His laughter grew harder, “You are truly a special one my little dear, fret not I’ll have another copy made and we can take the collar off you. Or not…I mean I do love the look on your face as you wear it.”

August pulled you close and hard as he planted his mouth over yours and viciously kissed you before turning around on his toes. He waved a hand at you.

“Until next time sweetness!” he called, "Don't forget to clean your breakfast off your face!"

You sighed and felt your knees buckle. You rushed through your door and locked every deadbolt and chain across.

You rushed to the kitchen and vomited in the sink. Your face felt crusty from his cum. You hissed as some peeled from your skin.

Your eyes watered. You stumbled back to your room and struggled to charge your phone. It refused to turn on. It was fucked.

'I need to talk to someone, I need to make sure Lloyd is okay, please dear god make sure he made it out of the Lions Lounge den. Fuck you August!'

HELPLINES:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers. .

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

#TNOSP #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #august walker x you #august walker x black!reader #august walker x ofc #august walker x reader #august walker fic #dark!august walker #dark!henry cavill

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aborddelimpala · 1 year

Text

#walkerversehiatuscreations | Week 03 | Favorite episode

@walker-extended-universe

My fav' ep from season 3 would be ep 5. So much is happening there. And it's a thing I really love about Walker, everyone had his own storyline.

#walkerversehiatuscreations #week 03 #walker #walker 03x05 #walker gifs #myedits

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sshewonders · 4 months

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WARM BODIES

Chapter 03: The Archer

chapter synopsis: While out on your mushroom-picking quest with Glenn, unbeknownst to you, danger lurked just around the corner. Fortunately, a mysterious man with a crossbow intervened, saving you from becoming a geek's dinner. However, he wasn't alone; he had his unsettling brother, who left Glenn visibly shaken, demanding to know where you and Glenn came from. Luckily, you observed that the man with the crossbow was a hunter – precisely what the camp, or more specifically, what you needed.

chapter warnings: This chapter contains strong language, perverted content, tense moments with firearms, mild violence, psychological distress, and a suspenseful atmosphere. Daryl Dixon being hot as hell, but sassy.

word count: 3.2k words

author's note: Hello! I sincerely apologize for the delayed update. I was deeply engrossed in some work, but here we are! Our crossbow-wielding redneck has finally made an entrance! To be honest, I invested significant effort into detailing Daryl's characteristics. I aimed to avoid the cliché of love at first sight, wanting him to align closely with Norman Reedus's portrayal in the first season – somewhat sassy, if you catch my drift. By the way, thank you immensely for the support you're providing; it truly motivates me to write! Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy reading!

MASTERLIST

NEXT CHAPTER >>

You stepped out of your tent, your attire a deviation from your usual style - a thin blue and white striped flannel, complemented by a white tank top. Back in the day, your wardrobe consisted primarily of sweaters, sweatpants, and the occasional leather jacket and pants. But Atlanta's blazing sun left you with little choice.

"Damn, it's hotter than me," you muttered to yourself, reminiscing about the more temperate climate back home, far away from the unrelenting southern heat.

Emerging from your tent, you clutched a red bucket and secured a small hunting knife to your belt, your trusty brown sling bag slung over one shoulder. Shane, ever the vigilant protector, had his shotgun slung casually over the other shoulder as he called out to you.

"Hey, you pickin' mushrooms?" Shane drawled in his annoying voice.

You turned around, squinting at Shane from the intense sunlight. Your eyes, an inherited trait from your father, were sensitive to the bright glare, while your brother boasted your mother's striking blue eyes, which never failed to spark a twinge of envy on you.

"Yeah?" You responded, raising an arm to shield your eyes from the sun.

"Wait for me. I'll come with you."

"No."

Shane, his voice oozing with frustration, barked, "Y/N, for the love of... it ain't safe out there alone!"

Your irritation flared, and you snapped back, "I can handle myself, Shane. I've survived this long without you babysitting me. I don't need your damn help."

Narrowing you eyes at Shane, you made it clear you didn't need his assistance, nor did you particularly relish his company on the excursion.

Shane, not one to back down, flashed a glare. "Y'know this world ain't what it used to be. Better safe than sorry. Besides, can't let ya out there with that little peashooter of a knife."

You sighed, your reluctance clear. "I can handle myself, Shane. I told you."

Before Shane could respond, Glenn, appeared on the scene. "Hey, guys, no need to argue, alright? I'll go with Y/N. Better two pairs of eyes than one, right?"

Glenn, carrying a bucket with just a few mushrooms, happily trotted behind you. He'd successfully convinced you to bring your recurve bow along, and his grin was the picture of contentment. However, you couldn't quite wrap your head around the idea. Why on earth would you need a bow for a mushroom-picking trip? You didn't have the faintest clue about hunting or shooting arrows at moving targets like walkers or animals. Still, you carried it with you, albeit with a puzzled look.

The sound of Glenn humming "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da" by the Beatles filled the air as you continued your journey. You suddenly stopped in your tracks and turned to face Glenn, a deadpan expression on your face. You dropped your sling bag to the ground, making a thud that seemed to mirror your exasperation. Glenn's humming came to a halt, and he wore a concerned expression. "What's wrong?" he asked.

You let out a long, dramatic sigh and voiced your confusion about why you were lugging your bow around for mushroom picking. "Tell me again why I had to bring my bow? Honestly, just admit it that bringing the bow was completely useless."

Glenn, ever the optimist, replied, "It's not useless, Y/N." Your raised eyebrow silently demanded an explanation, so he continued, grinning all the while. "I've noticed that when you're carrying that bow, you become way more focused and aware of your surroundings. It's like the bow is giving you some kind of 'hunter's power' you haven't fully unlocked yet."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at Glenn's explanation. "You're probably making that up, Glenn," you scoffed, though a part of her wondered if there might be a grain of truth in his words.

Glenn, undeterred by your skepticism, persisted with a good-natured grin. "I'm serious. I've seen it. You might not be a hunter yet, but it's like your instincts kick in when you have that bow. Trust me, it's not just for show."

You shot him a half-smile, still not entirely convinced. "Well, it'd be nice to unlock some super-secret bow skills," you quipped. "But for now, it's just extra weight I'm carrying around."

Glenn chuckled, picking up his bucket of mushrooms and you continued on your quest. "Hey, you never know. Maybe one day that bow will save our lives."

You smirked playfully, nudging Glenn's shoulder with your elbow. "Alright, I'll keep it handy. Just in case we come across any killer mushrooms out here."

You both continued the walk through the woods until your sharp eyes spotted a cluster of mushrooms nestled beside a decaying wooden log. Eager to add to your collection, you both knelt down to start plucking the mushrooms. Glenn questioned, "Hey, are these mushrooms safe to eat?"

You fingers gently inspecting the mushrooms as you gathered them, offered a reassuring smile. "Yeah, these are the same kind my father and I used for stew that one time when we went camping. It's a good thing my brother didn't come along with us; he managed to sprain his ankle, being a bit of a dumbass."

As Glenn continued to gather mushrooms, he looked over at you, curiosity in his eyes. "Hey," he began, "tell me about your life before all this craziness."

You scoffed playfully and replied, "My life doesn't have much to tell, Glenn."

Glenn persisted, "Well, I told you about my background, so why not share yours with me?"

You laughed, shaking your head. "First of all, you told me your background because you were bored and couldn't keep your mouth shut, and you're a bad liar," you teased. "And second, my life was pretty ordinary. Just Y/N Grimes, nothing special."

Glenn pouted and playfully begged, "Come on, there's gotta be something interesting about it."

You deeply sighed, and then shared your family history, revealing that your older brother played a significant role in your upbringing. Raised by your nurse mother and town sheriff father, you and your brother spent much of your childhood playing outdoors. Despite your parents' busy schedules, they ensured you both were well-cared for. Your brother, your constant companion, played a pivotal role until he went to college when you were seven. Your mom occasionally took you to the hospital where you befriended the staff, while your dad, a sheriff, introduced you to art at the police station. You developed a love for bows at nine, excelling in archery and winning awards in competitions, choosing it over baseball.

Curiosity getting the best of him, Glenn asked you, "Hey, why haven't you mentioned your brother's name to anyone? Same goes for Lori, she's never mentioned her husband's name, and Carl hasn't talked about his dad's name either."

You bit your bottom lip, a hint of sadness in your eyes, and shrugged. "I guess I just don't feel right saying his name, especially now that he's... well, probably not around anymore. Lori and Carl might feel the same way." You let out a soft sigh.

With the bucket nearly full of mushrooms, Glenn flashed you a soft smile. "You know, if it weren't for you, I'd probably be a geek's dinner that time, dehydrated and all."

You returned his smile, your expression equally warm. "Don't mention it, Glenn. I just did what was right."

You and Glenn strolled through the forest, your footsteps barely making a sound on the soft, damp ground. Glenn held the bucket of freshly picked mushrooms, while you carried your recurve bow.

The forest enveloped you both in its tranquil beauty, the trees rising tall and proud, their branches creating a canopy that filtered the fading daylight. The deep blue sky was speckled with hints of orange as the sun began its descent. You admired the interplay of shadows and light as you followed Glenn's lead.

Glenn's hiss drew your gaze, your voice tinged with concern. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Glenn replied hastily, a touch of urgency in his voice. "I need to pee. Just need a minute."

With that, he disappeared behind the tree, leaving you to quip under your breath, "Well, I guess even the apocalypse doesn't stop Mother Nature's demands."

You rolled you eyes in response and settled down on a sturdy log. With the forest's canopy above you, you gazed up at the sky, marveling at the delicate dance of leaves and branches against the deepening blue backdrop. Evening was approaching more swiftly than you had anticipated.

Setting your recurve bow against the log, you picked up the bucket and inspected your mushroom haul. A tinge of disappointment washed over you as you realized you both had collected only a handful of the edible fungi. It wouldn't be sufficient to feed the entire camp.

"Shit," you muttered to yourself, a longing for something more substantial like venison crossing your mind. If only you possessed the skill to hunt with your recurve bow, you fantasized, you could be inside your tent savoring a venison barbecue.

Then, something in your guts told you that something was wrong.

As you cautiously held your recurve bow, an arrow ready to be nocked, she heard the distinct sound of a gun being cocked, followed by a muffled whimper. Your senses went on high alert, and you pinpointed the source of the noise, noticing the whimper was stifled, likely by the hand of someone nearby.

You moved carefully, your gaze scanning your surroundings but finding nothing out of the ordinary. An eerie silence hung in the air. "Glenn," you called, concern lacing your voice, but received no response. You inched closer to the large tree behind which Glenn had disappeared, still hearing no movement.

Growing more uneasy, you called out Glenn's name again, you tone pleading as you asked him to stop playing this prank. "Glenn, this isn't funny! Come on, where are you?"

But then, it hit you: Glenn didn't carry a gun. The dread intensified, and you readied your recurve bow, albeit knowing you couldn't fire an arrow with precision if the target was moving.

Your heart raced with worry as the thought of something terrible happening to Glenn crossed your mind. Your concern grew so intense that you failed to notice the approach of a geek that crept up behind you. Only the sound of a low growl snapped your attention back to the present. You spun around, panic in your eyes, and found yourself face to face with a ravenous-looking geek.

A startled yelp escaped your lips as your mind raced, and then, as if fate intervened, an arrow sliced through the air, embedding itself deep in the geek's skull. Before you could process the rescue, another rustling of leaves drew your focus. You immediately nocked an arrow and aimed at the source.

Your heart pounded as you locked eyes with a man, an unmistakably living one. He held a crossbow, which was aimed directly at you. In response, you pointed your recurve bow at him, the tension was palpable. He was dressed in tattered, sleeveless attire and jeans, his skin marked by dirt and blood. But what caught your attention the most were his piercing blue eyes, narrowed and locked onto you with a mix of curiosity and caution.

A taller, older man in equally as dirty clothes wielding a handgun emerged behind the tree, covering poor and shaking Glenn's mouth.

You swiftly shifted your recurve bow, your eyes blazing with anger, from pointing at the archer with the crossbow to the man who had kidnapped Glenn. You glared at him, you frustration and anger palpable in the intensity of your gaze.

The man had a smile that made you uneasy. He looked at you up and down lasciviously whilst licking his thin, dried lips. The man spoke with a sly grin. "Well, ain't you a sight for sore eyes. A pretty little thing out here in the woods."

You maintained a guarded silence, apprehensive that opening your mouth might escalate into something more ominous. The tension hung in the air, as you weighed the consequences of uttering a word.

"Well, sweetheart, the name's Merle. Me and my baby brother are just fellas tryin' to survive in this world gone to hell. What 'bout you? Out here all alone?" Merle asked.

Fear coursed through you as Merle introduced himself and pressed the handgun against Glenn's temple. Glenn whimpered and cried, and you, your hands trembling, kept your recurve bow at the ready.

Merle, his eyes never leaving you, spoke in a low, threatening tone. "Put the damn bow down, girl, or I won't think twice about puttin' a bullet in his brainpan. You ought to be polite to man holding a gun."

You reluctantly lowered you recurve bow to the ground. Glenn, still shaking, looked at you with pleading eyes. "I'm so, sorry..."

Your heart ached for your friend, but your focus remained on Merle, who had a dangerous glint in his eye. You couldn't help but wonder about the other archer lurking behind you.

Merle suddenly released Glenn, and the younger man rushed to your side, positioning himself behind you as a shield. Merle's laughter filled the air as he walked over to where Daryl stood, still pointing his crossbow at you.

You anger seething beneath your usual shyness as you shot a defiant glare at the two men. In ths tense moment, you may not have felt adorable, but your determination was unmistakable.

Merle's rough voice cut through the tension, "Where y'all come from? What you doin' in these woods?"

You shot back with a determined but cautious glare, refusing to answer. Your silence spoke louder than any words.

Merle's eyes locked onto the bucket of mushrooms you were carrying, and he leaned in, inquiring, "Are you just out here gatherin' stuff?"

Daryl, however, didn't lower his crossbow. Merle wondered if that was the reason you weren't answering his question. He couldn't contain his frustration and yelled at Daryl, "Lower your damn crossbow, little brother!"

Daryl, a bit wary, lowered his crossbow, his gaze lingering at you with an unreadable expression. Merle, however, let out another wild laugh and inquired, "Y'all got a camp or somethin'?"

Glenn was about to respond, but you cut him off with a curt, "Fuck off."

Merle's temper flared, and he pointed his gun directly at you, the barrel aimed at your forehead. You didn't even flinch, your gaze steady and defiant.

Your fiery glare remained locked on Merle, who continued to cackle manically. It was evident he might have been high. Even with the tension, you couldn't help but sense Daryl's gaze on you, so you turned to him, your expression less fierce. Your careful appraisal seemed to make him uneasy as he shifted his focus and tightened his grip on his crossbow.

Your eyes then took notice of the lifeless squirrels hanging from his body. He held his crossbow with a hunter's grace, a professional stance that didn't escape your observation. It all clicked for you now – these two strangers in the woods, Daryl and Merle, were hunters, or at least one of them was. It was evident that Daryl was the skilled one.

A myriad of questions flooded your mind. Would they prove valuable additions to the group at the quarry, or would they bring nothing but trouble? They were, after all, just strangers, weren't they? However, you decided that you needed to find out for herself. The prospect of gaining skilled hunters and learning new survival skills was too tempting to ignore, even if it meant taking a risk.

However, before you could say something, Glenn, positioned behind you, leaned in and whispered his concern. "I know what you're thinking, don't do it. This feels like a bad idea. I've got a bad feeling about it."

You turned to Glenn, reassuring him, "Trust me. We need their skills and help."

You then turned to the two strangers, Merle and Daryl, and sighed heavily. "Listen, if we take you back to our camp, will you agree to one thing? To help us get food? No one in the camp knows how to hunt."

Daryl scoffed, rolling his eyes, "Can't ya teach yourselves? I ain't a damn teacher," he said. "Ya got a bow, why don't ya teach yourself, huh?" He then spat at you.

Although somewhat hurt by his words, you glared at him. "Listen, Robinhood," you began, "Last time I had a bullseye was with target practice, not a growling, flesh-hungry, walking dead."

Daryl retorted with a scowl, "Maybe if ya spent less time jawin' and more time learnin', you wouldn't be dependin' on others to keep ya fed, woman."

You scowled at him, saying, "Relax, dude. It's only been a week since the world ended. It's not as if the world gave me a heads up or warned me about the geeks and how to deal with them."

Daryl shot back with frustration, "Well, ain't that just peachy? Should've figured, talkin' to someone who thinks the end of the world is an excuse for ignorance."

Before you could reply or even deliver a hard slap, Merle intervened, placing his hands between you and Daryl, attempting to calm you both down. However, you knew it wouldn't be of much help.

"Calm down now, baby brother. It ain't the right way to talk to a pretty lady," Merle drawled with a sly smirk, then drawled his gaze over you, "Especially a lady like this, bambi," he drawled, licking his lips.

It was awful; it made you feel small and somewhat frightened under his perverted gaze. Unbeknownst to you, however, Daryl noticed the slight shaking of your hands.

"Shut up, Merle," Daryl spat at his brother, then turned to you, drawling, "Just bring us to your camp, and then we'll talk about a deal."

However, as expected, Merle couldn't resist injecting his usual dose of crudeness. Leering at you, he remarked, "Well, hope you don't mind a bit of dirt, sweetheart."

Displaying a sense of decency, Daryl quickly intervened with a stern expression and a firm command, "I said, shut up, Merle!"

"Shut up yourself ---"

Then, Glenn interfered, cutting Merle off. He positioned himself in front of you, puffing his chest out, though his hands were both shaking. "If you say another perverted thing to her, trust me, you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

#daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x female reader #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader #twd fanfiction #twd fic #warm bodies

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oraclekleo · 1 year

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Pick-A-Pile: Your self-healing status message

Hello and welcome to Kleo’s really quick Pick-A-Pile reading.

This time I have short messages for you regarding your self-healing process and progress.

This is a timeless general reading so pick what resonates with you and dismiss the rest.

Disclaimer:

Don’t base life decisions purely on tarot readings

Tarot isn’t an exact science, your life is in your hands

I can never guarantee any of what’s said in the reading

Feedback: Feedback is very important for content creators and for me it’s even more important. Please, let me know whether the tarot readings resonate. If there’s anything you dislike or find off about my readings (like wording, topics, focus), just tell me. I don’t want you to write 1000-word feedback, very simple comments will do for me to stay motivated. I don’t know why I have to keep repeating this but this is something I do for you, guys, and when I don’t feel motivated to do tarot readings, I have many other things to do. The more motivation I get, the more readings you will get to read. The logic is very simple but it’s two sided.

🌸🌸🌸

Pile 01

You have been hurt and it still gives you pain. You might even feel left out or ostracised by others, maybe you have outgrown your friends or your soul family. Maybe somebody mistreated you repeatedly. Or maybe you mistreated yourself and didn’t listen to your own voice.

That needs to stop now. You are advised to cut ties with those who are toxic in your life, with projects that go nowhere and your own doubts about yourself. Forgiveness is the gift you give to yourself not to others. Let go of the past and allow your healing to start.

You are your own healer. Pamper yourself, build your self-esteem, become the person you always wanted to be. This is your time to steal the spotlight, to let people know how amazing a person you are. Don’t worry you will be alone when you get rid of the toxic people. Show yourself to the world and the right people will come to you. You are attractive, you are worth it, you are well prepared to embrace your own beauty and you deserve sweetness in your life. Your soultribe is out there but they will never find you if you don’t take the risk and present yourself. Start small, go for a walk and start a small talk with a dog walker perhaps (praise the dog, we dog lovers love other people praising our pets, you can’t say anything wrong as long as you say something nice about our dog, it’s the easiest way to actually start talking to a stranger), join a gym and make friends there, or join a group chat or online community based on your interest, become a creator of content and attract like-minded people into your life. The first step is the hardest one but believe you are ready to start!

🌸🌸🌸

Pile 02

Congratulations to you, dear Pile 2! You are mostly done with your healing, the cycle is over, you have made you are ready to make the next step. Your own soul is mended and fixed, your heart is overflowing, your life is on track (more or less).

It’s time for you to shift from self-healing to giving. You have a new interest or even basking in the light of the loving gaze of your new sweetheart. You have found your tribe, your soul family, there are people deeply attached to you and you are attached to them. You can now start creating something amazing together, be it a project, art, adventure, home or family.

This is all awesome but keep in mind to stay balanced and fair. Make sure your boundaries are respected, make sure your progress is not done at others’ expense. Be loyal and dependable but don’t let others abuse your kindness. You’re in a good place now but that doesn’t mean you are immune to heartaches.

🌸🌸🌸

Pile 03

The game is afoot, the healing and transformation has begun for you. Does it feel scary to face the past traumas and hurts within you, process them and let them go? Nobody said the healing process is easy. You might need a lot of strength and courage to deal with your spiritual baggage. Maybe you’re still carrying some difficult karma with you as well.

However, the power of transformation and growth is in your hands, the seeds of happiness, love and abundance are already present in the fertile soil of your soul. Tend them and be generous. Make a plan for your future. What kind of person do you want to become through this healing? Start planning the steps to achieve your goals and dreams. Be ready to face challenges, overcome obstacles and accept assistance from the universe. If you are open to embrace the support, it will come to you like a healing summer rain, washing all the dust of your past away and leaving you feeling all fresh and rejuvenated. Your own inner power to reinvent yourself and restart your life is infinite. Once you know what your goal is, the path unfolds in front of you. Don’t be hesitant to accept help when it presents itself to you. This is your healing but nobody says you have to do all the labour by yourself. If you feel stuck with an issue, seek guidance and assistance from those who can provide it.

🌸🌸🌸

I hope you found something useful in this reading, let me know your thoughts and opinions.

Thank you for participating and be blessed regardless of the level of healing you are currently at.

Kleo 🦄

#tarot #tarotblr #tarot pick a pile #tarot pick a card #PAC #pac tarot #pick a pile #pick a card #pac reading #pick a pile reading #tarot community #tarot readings #love tarot free #free tarot #oracle kleo #self healing #self care

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grimhunts · 2 years

Text

@magemaestro

( cont. from here )

"IT WASN'T GOOD." She looks down at her palisman, curled up in her hands. The memory of the coven scout, in the middle of the fighting at Hexside--eyes glowing white, coven sigil illuminated like it was burning against their skin...

"I think they can see through the coven sigils," she says, looking up at Hunter. "That's how they know what's going on. There's not a spy--they don't need spies. Everyone with a sigil is unwittingly spying for them."

@grimhunts

“What?” His voice grew higher pitched and raspy, as his eyes went down to his arm. His gloves may have covered his wrist up, but that didn’t stop him from wrapping his hand around it anyway, fear and shame creeping into him.

“Sigils. Bad. Got it,” Hunter practically squeaked, and looked back at Skara with panic in his eyes. “I-I should go...”

#magemaestro #v: arc 03 ( wayward walker )

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writella · 10 months

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Moments Behind His Eyes

A moment of adoration, pain, release, then acceptance, and many expressions of love between Rick x reader.

Based upon the events of 8x02/03, reader is afab, lots of internal admiration and worry about Rick from the reader, and there is smut in a few different areas. 18+

“Have you ever had one of those moments…” Your voice trailed off wistfully as you gazed at how the sun gleamed gently off the water. Yet, you also noticed how deep and heavy it looked too, mirroring the weight of thoughts. You let your hands rest on the grass and started up again, “Have you ever had one of those moments that you wished lasted forever?”

Rick had already turned to you, watching as you finished your question, taking in the sight of your profile, admiring how the light touched your skin, similar to the way you looked at the lake. Although his eyes felt weak and tired, he watched you with fondness and a bit of sorrow. It felt like such a relief to have something, someone, so bright and glistening like starlight yellow that was all his among this wreckage of the world. It gave him some semblance of peace, like an exhale in this time when he sucked in so much hate and rage and… shame.

He tried to push it back down as he quietly listened to you, “And not because it was one of those ‘best day’ moments, but a moment where you knew that after it was over, everything would go back to grey, or black, or nothing.” There was a sadness Rick sensed in that ending. Almost as if you knew what was going on in his mind, of that said shame, the grey and black and nothingness of it. The everything of it. Another weight on the falling side of the scale that made all the other bad deeds resting there tip down further. He wondered what would finally be the last straw; the point of no return; scale shattered.

Rick felt like he was there a long time ago, like those first weeks in Alexandria, but there was always Carl, and Michonne, and Daryl, and the group, and of course, you who still looked at him the way you’re doing right now. With a kind light as if your face mirrored what you saw in him— the future. He knew the world he wanted Carl and Judith to grow up in, but it was getting to the point where he didn’t see that world within himself. Yet your trusting eyes seemed to say you still did.

And you were no optimist, of course. At least not completely. How could you be in a world like this, in a war like this? But since you’ve been by Rick’s side, the wonder emerged from you more naturally— to be the anchor, the ever-returning light that never ceased to come out at dawn. Unknowingly, he taught it to you, or just being around him inspired you to be so and you embraced that role. Even after another never-ending day of taking down walkers or gathering supplies for the Saviors, you were the one that smiled with blood stripes on your face and clothes and all. He knew that was your deposition, that’s why he wondered why your words ended so bleakly today, and why nonetheless, you still had a slight, albeit sad smile on your face despite it. What was truly on your mind? Were you keeping something inside too?

You continue, “Like when I ask for one more look before you leave-“

“Or when you say my name like you’ve got to ask a question, but you really have none?” He interrupts with his natural, gentle charm. His head tilted to the right, chin up and eyes squinting from the sun, those crinkles forming by the corners. His lips look so rosy, the sides curve a little bit, it’s not a smile yet, but he’s being smug. You’ve got his attention, the fond memory musing him.

“And you say it’s-”

“Because you / I just like being around me.” You both say in imperfect unison.

He laughs softly. There it is. It’s just three light titters that turn into a closed-mouth smile, mellow and faded, but you saw it. It was there. You made it happen.

This was one of the first times he had smiled genuinely from the start of Alexandria, the Hilltop, and the Kingdom’s first attack on Negan and the Saviors. Not one of the ones he put on when he tried to put up a righteous front toward the others, giving one of his infamously rousing speeches to bring everyone together. You knew a lot of what was underneath.

Similar to the slanted plain of grass you two sat on, you felt yourself slowly inching towards a downward fall. In a world infested with the dead, you found it so heartbreaking that it was other humans who could make it grimmer. And you felt Rick falling in that same direction, faster than you and probably anyone else, in fact. You knew you shouldn’t worry, he is always able to make it back. Allow his ‘mercy to prevail over his wrath,’ but it was a wax and wane. His anger, his violence, his undying persistence to go to any lengths to protect, reaching out again, making him commit acts others cannot, or maybe believe they cannot. The ones that make you look differently at a man. The killing, and the sometimes forgetting sympathy because of how many times you have killed.

But as strong as that side of him is, you believe it comes from the side of himself that loves so deeply and earnestly. It’s the stronger side, you know it. It’s what makes him different from the Saviors. It’s what makes various groups stand by him. It’s the side you make sure to remind him of.

“Rick,” you start, finally gathering up the courage to bring up what you truly wanted to talk about, “What happened the other day? You know, when you went off with Daryl.”

You saw his eyes leave you, looking down the small hill. “You’ve been quiet,” you say with faint humor. “You’re never quiet. You leaders never shut up.”

He shakes his head, the light laugh returning but leaving just as fast.

You let your fingers bristle over his ever-growing beard. It was short for now. Not just a fade, but definitely not hovering well under his chin yet. Nonetheless, it was the one you had cleaned the blood out of in the shower two days prior.

Before stepping in, you had seen him rip up the shirt he was wearing. No knife, but with his bare hands. Popping buttons and tearing the sleeves when he thought no one was looking. It soaked of sweat and was stained red for sure, but you had seen Carol and those on cleaning duty fix and repair much worse. Something was wrong, different from the hundreds of other things wrong, but he wouldn’t say.

You had been Rick’s companion long before the both of you slept in the same bed, and because of this, the slight shifts in mood and varying inflections on his face were easier to spot. You knew Rick had trauma he has yet to tell you, you only know the larger details about what happened to his old partner, or his late wife, and you knew it still hurt him but he wasn’t feeling this down before the first attack. What was this new hurt? It was almost as if you were sitting with Daryl now, Rick’s eyes were so solemn and sad, his mouth pressed into stoicism.

Even now as his eyes trail your fingers that caress his jaw, you see no answers. His blue eyes looked so dark now, merely mirroring the water he was just looking down upon. You wondered if he wanted to drown in it; be submerged, even just for a second, to forget, or maybe… to be absolved. But for what? Rick always felt pained about the things he did. But you and Carl and everyone in the group know the reasons why, or at least you’re starting to learn more about the fury and charge he took upon himself after his friend’s death. You knew it took sacrifices to one’s mind and soul to make it in this world and that was exactly the cost Rick took up to pave the way to get you all here.

Of course, everyone worked hard and was useful and skilled and powerful in their own right, but you all had an unspoken understanding that none other than Rick has stepped up to take the load and burden of actions you never come back from. All of that work to have a home like Alexandria was exactly why it’s so important that you all beat the Saviors now. Part of you couldn’t understand why Rick still hasn’t gotten to the point of knowing that their love and belief in him is limitless, but the other part of you empathized with how hard it could be to believe so when each day that passes, and the more that humans become like the walkers you were surviving and fighting against, it becomes harder to see yourself as anything other than monstrous for the things you must do to continue on.

That’s why as you quickly stepped into the shower before Rick saw you watching, you allowed him to touch you, to do as he pleased, let him avoid your knowing eyes and askings of his day, and submit to refraining from saying anything unless it had to do with the way his hands and mouth made you feel, and how he felt inside you.

Oh, he made it hard to concentrate. And with never knowing when and what time will be your last moment together, it was always hard to say no. The heat of the shower was synonymous to the feeling within your heart. The drumming, the fire, the explosions that happened whenever Rick kissed and kissed and pumped and went deeper as he pressed your back against the wall.

And just like that, the act happens again. No words about that day, just your loving touch being replaced by his avoidant lips. Avoidant to answer questions, but readily kissing into your hand until he moves it to his own and then over his shoulder as he connects his lips to yours, nuzzling his nose against your own before doing so. Breathing in the warmth of your close proximity.

Everything within you melts. The sun and him and everything within your body just warms. It’s not heat, though you felt that familiar sensation below start to fire, it’s just the fact that Rick feels just so perfect against you in any capacity. The notion in your mind that it always feels like you two belong that makes you feel warm inside. It’s like he knows, and he probably does if last night was any indicator, that you can’t think when he strikes you with any touch, any kiss, any act of love. That’s why you never got to find out what happened the other day.

His now free hands reach toward your jeans, undoing the button, teasing you with his fingers above your underwear. Circling until comfortably slotting his pointer and middle finger between your folds, he hummed contently at the feeling, knowing your wetness was seconds behind if not already there.

“Rick,” you meant for it to sound like a signal to stop, you really wanted him to talk, but it just ended up sounding like a wined sigh. You loved him and it was intoxicating, he was intoxicating. His slow and gentle, but rhythmic movements matched the feeling of peace similar to the meadow you were in, and the soft warming of your cheek that was ever touched by the sun at this moment. It just felt so good.

His fingers go beneath the band and there is a smile on his face that you can’t see as the side of your forehead nestles in his hair, reeling at the feeling of his fingers touching without the cloth in between. Rick goes lower, gathering your wetness to your clit and going faster with the ease of your slick. Then slowly, his fingers slide down again, his palm now covering your folds. Feeling up against your clit, rubbing up and down against the bone while his fingers push inside you, circling, then curling up, and pushing.

Your hands and arms move from cupping his shoulders to hanging entirely over his upper back, arms squeezing against his neck. “Rick,” you plead, but again your attempt comes out wrong, it’s a sigh as your eyes roll back at the feeling of his hand everywhere you hate to admit you needed it. “Mm, Rick, please,” you feel embarrassed knowing that was just another response to how good he was making you feel than a demand to get back to what you were supposed to be talking about and yet you let his other hand go under your shirt.

Your eyes open for a second to see a bunny hopping along over by the trees. The oddity and the fact that you were doing terribly at making him stop or making yourself want him to truly stop made you chuckle lightly, the three giggles just turning into “mms” and a single “ah” afterward.

“You don’t want me to stop,” he chided, you could now hear the smug smile he must have had on. He was right, you couldn’t help it. You laughed, a bit desperately, along with him.

Rick started pumping deeper, thumb now in the area where his palm was. Then, with his free hand, he guided you to help him put your jeans down a little farther and then pushed you slightly by the shoulder, your back now flat on the diagonal grass. Your knees went up instantly but he moved the left one down, moving closer in between. His right hand fingers now solely work on taking you to the edge as his left focuses on your clit.

It felt so good. You hated how much. How could he create this much pleasure if it was just built from trying to keep something from within him down? It wasn’t right, but god, what he was doing felt so, so right anyway. “UGH,” your frustration snapped both for his wellness and otherwise. “Rick,” you moan once more. You were close. You knew it and so did he. You couldn’t believe you were about to do this to yourself: you got up on both your hands, looked him in his eyes, and said sharply, “Rick.”

He stopped.

“Wait,” you reached out for him, but he walked downward to the water, balancing on his toes, cleaning his hands, feeling a bit embarrassed. You watched as he got up and just stared into the lake. He was probably looking at his reflection. Was it light from the sun, or dark from the depth?

You fixed your clothes as your face filled with worry once more. This was just the start of your war with the Saviors. Right at the beginning wasn’t the time to hold things down, especially between you and him. You wanted to set that precedent starting now.

But you also didn’t want to push him too hard. Maybe you just ruined one of those yellow moments before the grey. But it seemed the clouds were already in his eyes anyway. You look down, defeated until you suddenly hear Rick’s footsteps walking upwards. His boots meet your eye-line. But before you can look up to face him he finally admits, “I killed somebody’s father.”

You meet his gaze and immediately get up, noticing his watery ones, a tear on the right side so close to falling.

You didn’t understand, “Everyone is a someone to somebody, Rick.” You were sympathetic, you knew some kills affected a person more than others, but it didn’t make sense. “I’m sure you did it because you had to.”

“I don’t know if I did. I could have asked more questions.” He shook his head, his thumb and pointer turning his head down as they rested on either side of his brows.

“Did he give you a chance to ask questions or was he trying to kill you first?” you reason.

“Of course, he was trying to kill me, he was a Savior. We were trying to find guns and I think we came into his home.” He breathes out harshly and then he’s quiet for a moment, but his eyes and head look loud and sad and angry.

You allow him to take a minute until you break the silence. “What are you thinking,” you softly urge, delicately placing your hands in his. “You can say it. There had to be more to this. I’m not going to judge you.”

He doesn’t follow your gaze, his eyes are low and to the side. One hand lets go of yours to wipe the water heavy on his eyelids, a few tears already having rolled down.

“There was a baby… I- I didn’t know.”

“Gracie?” You say solemnly, but not without a slight gasp of realization, remembering the baby Rick told you he brought back from the failed gun gathering, the little girl he entrusted to Aaron.

He nods, eyes still following the downward plain. “I killed that little girl’s dad. I killed her only family and now she’s going to grow up in this world alone.” His eyes were at level with the trees now, but still not reaching you. “Imagine if that was me? I would never get to know who Judith would end up to be. I’d never get to see Carl become an adult.” He stops for a beat, “I’d destroy,” his voice sinister, “whoever tried to take me away from my children,” then it dropped mournfully, “and I was the one who ended up doing that to some other guy.”

You tried to find the right words, but his last sentence left you speechless. You couldn't blame him and you weren’t afraid, but Rick’s anger was one that could sometimes leave a person in shock and his sadness was one that could break your heart.

“And not to mention Daryl killed Morales.”

Even though he didn’t look at you, he answered your questioning eyes. “He was a guy we were in Atlanta with for a short time. And he killed him for me.” His hand goes to his chest for a second, touching his heart before falling down to his side, “Daryl would never do that to people who were on his team.”

“Daryl wouldn’t do that to the people he loves,” you correct him, ready to speak on behalf of Daryl. “And if that guy was there doesn’t that mean he’s with the Saviors now?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“This technicality does matter.”

“Well just like that other guy, maybe there was more to it.”

“Was there? Or did this happen fast?”

“Me with Morales? No. Daryl killing him, yes.”

“Well, when you were with him was there more?”

“He was trying to kill me or take me in to Negan. He wants me. And Maggie. And Ezekiel. They’ve got some plot going on.”

“Daryl must have done it because he thought he was going to lose you. And that guy must have had a gun to your head. And like you said you’re not the only one wanted, it’s not all on you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he repeats dismissively. “All these things we have to do. All the killing everyone is doing. It’s all my fault.” His accent seems to come out more clearly the more upset he gets, the louder he gets.

“Negan was terrorizing communities before we got involved,” you argue.

“But I’m the reason we are involved!” He’s basically shouting, but then, his voice gets low and angry and bitter, “If only I didn't kneel to that motherfucker.”

“Our friends just died in front of us, we were heartbroken and scared to be next! What could you do, Rick? But you didn’t ask it like a question, there was nothing he could’ve done that he didn’t do. “We were all on our knees. Not just you.”

“Well if I didn’t decide that we should kill his people in that outpost. If I wasn’t so fucking stupid to think the Saviors were that small and that it was all that easy.”

“The world was smaller then. We know more now.”

“Stop reasoning with me,” he almost sobs. His elbows are on his knees now, closer to the ground, and his hands go on his head. You go down to him right after, hands around his arms. This was your hero and he practically hated himself.

“Rick,” you pause for a second trying to choose your words wisely. You didn’t want to say the same old thing, that it’s okay. It wasn’t. You understood that.

Going deep into yourself you try to find something he might actually listen to. When you find it, you’re worried about how it might come out, but you start before thinking, “You know what? Yes. You have done awful and dangerous things.” You make sure to continue with solemnity in your voice, you wanted your words to sound firm

but not mean, “You did kill a child’s father, and if the record tracks, I think that was actually the second time, or who knows how many. You put a bullet in your best friend. You never got to tell your wife you loved her one last time; you never got to make those final amends. You couldn’t save Hershel, or Glenn, or Abraham… Your final call for us to help the Hilltop and take down that outpost solidified us in this mess, yes. That’s true.”

He looked up at you, frightened and confused. Did you hate him now too?

“But,” you look into his eyes for a moment, seeing his fear. It was heartbreaking, but you were hoping that start would make him listen to this: “You are among two other leaders who built up an army to take down a man and his group who planned on taking us all as his own, like his property.” Your voice rises, “Do you understand how inhumane that sounds? He’s worse than a dictator, living like this has felt like some wild cult! And I think about the girls who he calls his wives every day. Wondering what would happen if he picked me or Rosita or someone else instead of wanting Maggie. Or those children that live in that compound.” Your voice lowers, “I think about when Carl went there. He’s never told either of us about it… What if he never came back to us? What if Daryl never came back to us?” You push away the thought, “We’re doing this and making the mistakes we, unfortunately, make in the process for them. And all the dads and moms and kids and friends who are like us in there— the workers. The ones who are still alive but can’t actually live because of the hell they must go through living in a place like that.”

You continue as he looks down, “And it’s the fact that you are basically on your knees right now, being real and human and hurting that shows you are not Negan or whatever your head is telling you you are.” You’re holding his head now, “I can take your worst.” The fire in your voice forces him to look up at you, “And I won’t stand for anyone else who doesn’t believe in our cause. Who doesn’t believe in you.”

His eyes try to hold onto your own, but they falter again. “Rick,” you plead. “Your mistakes don't change your heart. Today is a new day. You can be better. I’ve seen you do better.”

“I know I can do better.” He finally answers, his voice matching your own, angry.

“So do it.” He nods lightly, mouth agape. “Do better, but don’t let that stop you from forgiving yourself sometimes. We’re going to fuck up. There’s still so much more to do. More battles. More fights.”

“I know.”

“But you can try. And sometimes you’ll fail, but you can try and then try again.”

Rick’s nods continue, though his eyes are still watery and elusive, some tears slowly escaping. Your thumbs touch his lower eyelids, making the tears spill so you can wipe them away. This tilt of his lowered head makes your palm touch the corner of his lips. “Look at me, Rick,” you whisper, “and keep looking,” his eyes shift upward. “I can take your worst.”

And then, you kiss him. It’s immersive and safe, passionate but soothing. The warm light transmitted from the sun transfers to your skin, your lips, then his. All the love and hope and belief you had to give, you tried to instill in him like this in this moment.

Both your heads tilt upwards. He’s giving you the same effort but you can tell he’s following you right now; he’s given in. As you both sit down on the plain again, you put your left hand on the ground over his legs. Your right hand is still on his cheek and he leans back slightly but as your forehead nudges against his, he allows it to slowly push him onto his back allowing you to sit on top of him. Absent-mindedly, you start unbuttoning his shirt, smiling into the kiss now, hands feeling down his chest and then to his abdomen. His hands fall instinctively on your hips, rocking you against him down and up and down and deep, deep, deep.

You look up at him then, hands on his neck reaching toward his jaw. His eyes look into yours. “Are we-”

“We are,” you start. “But I just want to look at you for a moment first.” Your words are endearing and true. You’re seriously your own bloc but it’s that your worry still lingers.

“I’m not going anywhere right now.”

“I know.” You kiss him softly one more time before laying flat against him, holding him tightly, breathing into his neck.

His arms wrap around your back, one hand going into your hair, embracing you just as tightly.

You both stay there, it could have been for minutes. Both of you are quiet. Your eyes tilt to the side now feeling the sun on your closed eyelids as Rick stared at the light blue sky.

Finally, Rick decides to speak, “Sometimes I don’t know how much more I can live with myself.” You hear the pain in his voice, it almost cracks. “I don’t know if I can see myself the way you see me. I look in the mirror, even in the water, and there are times that I don’t know what I’m looking at. Or I can tell that it’s me and that I’ve just become everything that I thought I was fighting against.”

“It’s like I told you, Rick. It’s about how we try moving forward. It’s not about what happened yesterday.”

“Well, can’t you say that for Negan then?”

“Is Negan trying to change? With all the power he has, how many times has he had the opportunity to?” Your anger rises at the thought of him but you digress, “But this is about you right now. You lift so many people up.” Your eyes urge him to truly take in your words this time. “I didn’t know how to believe in people anymore before you came along. You showed me that community is real and that it can still exist. That I could have a family again. You inspired me to believe.”

“Then why can’t I inspire myself right now.”

“Because when we try to be everything to everyone, we fall short for ourselves. Those who inspire need someone to inspire them.” You pause, and ask quietly, “Do you believe in me?”

“Of course I do.” He said it unhesitatingly.

“Well, I believe in you, so if you trust me, you’re going to have to give yourself some credit then.” You look at him lovingly, and then he returns the expression. “You are the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met. And I will believe it for both of us until you find it in yourself. You can even hate yourself right now if you want to, but I’m not going down without a fight for you. You’re not failing and I’m not letting you fall.”

His eyes meet yours in the way you’ve been hoping for— the tears are gone, you see bits of the sun in his eyes now, and there is finally some hope.

Seconds pass, possibly a minute and then, Rick is ready to move on: “I’m not okay,” he states plainly, but there is a strange, half-rousing look that slowly comes after it. “And I don’t mean to come off wrong after what we just spoke about, but are you ever going to let me do something? For real?” He smiles now, wide and full, and teasingly.

“Yes, right now,” you answer with a wild giggling grin. “We’ll do something right now.”

You and Rick move to the more leveled plain of grass. You take off your shirt and head straight to unbutton his pants. “I’ve got you. For this moment, I’ve got you.”

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