#I ain't going to be hearing anything bad about these daddies | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thesamoanqueen · 1 year ago

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Owner

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: smut, jealousy, my bad english as always.

A/N: It should have been my gift to @harmshake for her day but I didn’t made it in time and here Im, posting it anyway *delusional smile*

He was getting a headache, a bad one because Y/N was unbeatable at driving him crazy. He always tried to control himself, freaking out during arguments didn’t fit him well and he could successfully have done it, at least until she got involved or decided to press that button, the one she had claimed from the first second Roman laid eyes on her. Thank God she wasn't the kind of woman who liked drama or kicking her feet, but if she decided to go down that road...

Roman could count their arguments on one hand, exceptions, extraordinary events, but every time it happened from one moment to the next, escalating in a few seconds and for reasons that weren't even real reasons. And it had been like that that time too. The night before Y/N had gone out with the girls, they had gone to have fun, there was nothing wrong and he had even been fine with it, because now that his schedule was no longer so oppressive they spent more time together, both didn't have to work hard as before. The next morning she got up and he had left himself speak, a comment about alcohol that she had clearly drunk, not about her, not even trying to scold her, but from there to chaos it was a short step.

Standing in the kitchen for who knows how long, he lowered his head in exasperation, exhausted, the idea of getting something to drink to go and relax, perhaps with her now only a memory, while Y/N marched through the living room, taking random stuff and dissecting that story as only she was capable of doing.

- I can do whatever I wanna do ‘cause you my daddy when I say you're, not every moment of ma life – she crashed into him at the other end of the huge room and Roman raised his head as if someone had slapped him.

She could do what? He wasn't what?!

- What did you just say?! – he snapped, not at all intending to let that time pass.

He had never tried to stop her from doing anything, he knew well who he had decided to be close to as a partner and it had never crossed his mind to treat her otherwise. He had made a comment, a comment because he cared about her, he was always worried, even if they were together and she came up with that story? He was a man, he didn't need to control her to feed his little ego.

- Thought it was me tired, but now the one who cannot hear me is you? - she insisted stubbornly, refusing to let go and Roman gave her a warning look, his gaze dark.

- Y/N stop running that mouth

- Well if you don't like my attitude anymore, go find someone else and I'll do the same – she pointed at him and Roman knew that she was throwing everything on the table by now, but she had to slow down because he had enough now.

He wouldn't have gone anywhere, above all she wouldn't have found anyone else. She could put it out of her head to play those games with him and above all to turn around and leave him there as she was trying to do. He quickly crossed the living room, before Y/N could even disappear and grabbed her by the waist, hearing her let go with a thud all the stuff she had in her arms, struggling.

- What-Get your hands off me, lemme go-

- You better calm down- don't kick! - he warned her, taking blow with a grimace as he dragged her with him across the room - don't… no… babygirl-

- Roman put me down, ain't joking! And don't call me that! – she struck again, convincing him to put her down on the coach, to grit his teeth, irritation growing.

- No more babygirl, ain't your daddy, you can do whatever, what's going on huh?!

Frozen, Y/N stared back at him. Her arms wrapped tightly around her chest, legs curled up on the couch where she still had tried to escape him at first, even though he was literally towering over her. He had raised his voice, he never did it, except when they got to that point, but every time it happened he ended up regretting it the same instant just by looking at her. He couldn't stand those moments, because they didn't belong to either of them and for sure wasn't what he wanted for their relationship.

- You don't own me – Y/N said, refusing to lower her head and Roman ran a hand over his dark beard, inspiring, before looking back at her deadly serious.

- I own you

He knew what was going on in that head of her, because Y/N thought and thought even late at night when she should have been sleeping, she was dangerous. And that argument had been the reason she had struggled to have relationships in the past, the same one that had led them to chase each other for a year before giving a name to what was between them. It had been a stupid comment, said with a completely different intention, they both knew it, and yet she had snap.

-I do – he repeated, seeing her physically stiffen when he crouched down in front of her – as you own me – he admitted without shame.

He knew what he wanted from his life and he knew what he was willing to risk, he had never been the kind of person who liked to be led, but since she had entered his life, his vision had changed. It was like this from the moment he woke up to the moment he went to bed, it was his law, it was what he chose and what Roman committed to. He wasn't a kid, he could make sacrifices and he wanted to bear them.

-That's how things work – he explained, eyes running over her figure without forgetting a single piece, while hers studied him.

They were doing this together and there was no "whatever" for it to work. They had each other's backs, they belonged to each other and there was no one else who could replace either of them in that mission. No plan B, no alternatives, it was all or nothing, she was the one who told him first and Roman stuck to that. He could keep his mouth shut, ignore if he wanted, he had no problems, but what they were had to be clear, for better or for worse, during arguments or not.

Y/N insisted on not moving, legs still bent on the coach, shoulders still tense and her gaze fixed on him who hadn't moved an inch too, ready to take yet another blow that never came. She only needed a few words, if the right ones, to send those moments away and Roman knew he had said them to her or she wouldn't have given up. An arrogant and slightly softened grin was struggling to show itself, but he just frowned, tilting his head a little to look at her inch by inch again.

-May I touch you now? – he asked, his voice now low, soft.

- What if I say no? – he heard her ask immediately, stubborn and without mercy.

Firm in his purpose, Roman did not give up, completely unimpressed by that attitude which had single-handedly eliminated any competition long before him.

- Please – he begged hoarsely and Y/N once again didn't move.

She didn't even answer, but her dark chocolate eyes did it for her, wavering for a moment at that plea and he reached out with both hands, slowly pulling her legs off the couch by ankles. He slid one on the carpet, placing the other on top of his knees, caressing the caramel-colored skin, soft calf, her eyes pointing at him in religious silence as he went up higher, touching behind the knee to spread his hand on her gorgeous soft thigh. He felt her body vibrate imperceptibly, responding to that contact and Y/N immediately push her foot against his chest, stopping him from going any further.

-Babygirl...- he called her back, looking up again.

Still no response and Roman took the opportunity to slide her leg over his shoulder, making his way between her. His hands began to caress her again without waiting any longer, going up, taking the opportunity to take care of the other leg in the same way and in the same way, even with the other, Y/N stopped him. Roman looked at her in silence this time, he placed a kiss on her skin, pinching it with his beard, breathing in the scent of coconut and vanilla lotion, receiving a new push in return. He waited a second, just one, to collect himself, before also pulling the other leg over his shoulders and bending her on the couch, without asking or negotiate anymore, crashing his mouth onto her to get a moan.

Y/N under him struggled, trying to push him away, refusing to let him win that fight as useless as the argument they had was. He stopped her from the wrists, bracing them with a little force against the couch backrest, pressing them with some of his weight, heat rising quickly and her complaints, muffled, slowly turning into hot moans. Roman knew that she was ready to not make his life easy and repay him in some way, but he was fine with that.

He liked challenges and if she was the prize, he could take more than a couple of pushes.

Slow and unstoppable, he made his way over her. Feeling her mouth slowly indulge him, her hands stop shaking and her legs squeeze him to have his body closer, to have him where he belonged. He still refused to let go, keeping her pinned beneath him, sliding only one large hand, first around her throat and then further down, under her oversize shirt, over her breast free from any constriction. His thumb automatically went to play with her nipple and Y/N mewled into his mouth, panting hotly when Roman finally abandoned her to move down, licking her ear and jugular before biting and sucking that soft skin with the only purpose to leave his mark.

- Mmh! – a moan, strangled, still a little freaky, teeth closing on her swollen lip to stop it.

Annoyed, he looked up at her, studying her focused, breathless, cute expression. He pushed a little on her wrists, feeling her body soften and pulled her white shirt up a little more, to go down to kiss her between her round breasts, inhaling her scent, dipping his face there to devour her hungrily. Her shivers, her heartbeat dangerously close, even the sound of her swallowing while trying to catch her breath, had quickly turned that exchange into something more and bossy Roman rubbed himself against her, his cock now hard inside his gray jumpsuit. He watched Y/N bite her lip again, try to hold back, belly tense and eyes finally searching for him as he began to suck and bite on one of her dark salty buttons.

Her back always curved into a delightful arch when he paid her that kind of attention. An almost unnatural, desperate and needy arch, which Roman get never tired of holding in his hands and admiring, often asking for more, demanding everything.

He watched her throw her head back, almost hiding between cushions and his arm slid behind her back, pulling her against him, grabbing her hip so her center was in place. Y/N struggled again, breathing short, her gaze liquid with excitement and Roman tightened his grip on her wrists, freeing her breasts shiny from his saliva and quickly place a kiss on both her legs that were resting onto his shoulders. Quickly, he fumbled with his clothes, pulling them down with his only free hand, immediately feeling his erection jump to attention and Y/N gasp in anticipation.

- What do you say sweetheart huh? – he asked hoarsely, pressing it against her perfect ass, while also freeing her too – do you want me to ask nicely or not?

-Lemme-e go- he heard her repeat, but this time he knew that her intention was not to run away.

- Please babygirl? – he chanted into her ear, almost crushing her beneath him.

- Please… daddy – a meow more like a moan and Roman released his grip on her wrists.

Her hands grabbed his face instantly, forcing him into a kiss he would never refuse and then wrapping around his torso, scratching his solid neck with demand, as he thrust into her without waiting any longer. Her folds were soft, welcoming and every single time he ended up searching for the bottom, that exact point that made her tighten around him in a vice from which Roman always hoped not to escape. His body was shot through with every sigh of Y/N, every single moan and prey to an uncontrolled reaction his hips moved reflexively, thrusting and pinning her down.

They hadn't fucked like this for a long time now, since they were nothing and their encounters seemed more like a desperate attempt to leave their mark on each other so that no one else could get in the way or hope to. Now those thoughts, those doubts were far away, but Roman still felt in the bottom of his chest the urge to claim her, to give her everything and because of that, he took advantage of his strength to turn her onto her side, leaving one of her legs down. From that position he could push at another angle, holding her round buttock, straightening his back.

- Like tha-aht, yes-

-Yeah, let's strech my pussy good…-he growled hungrily, giving her an appreciative slap on the ass and the moan that Y/N let out was accompanied by her throbbing walls.

- There-yes there!

Quick, rough, he knew that neither of them would last long, but he put a hand on her belly anyway, touching his bulge, hitting that spot and observing, satisfied, the whitish ring that had already formed around his cock. He saw it spread across his entire length, back and forth, again, while Y/N tried to hold him between her folds, inside her sweet cave. He licked his lips, savoring her moods from a distance, pressing with his fingers where her mound welcomed him, feeling his own hardness, his thumb sliding further down to play with her swollen button.

A couple of thrusts and Y/N exploded beneath him in a succession of gasps, hands gripping the coach cover, eyes closed tightly and that wonderful arc that Roman moved again, to take her from behind, pushing himself onto his knees to have her into a press. Frantic, he let his head loll, pounding frenetic through his orgasm, refusing to give in until Y/N slapped her hand against one of his arms and he pulled out quickly, missing her warmth instantly.

A growl left him, but just as he had felt that unpleasant absence, he welcomed Y/N who had sat up to take him into her soft mouth, licking both of their juices with a moan of appreciation. With one arm resting on the coach backrest and the other hand holding the back of her head, he watched Y/N wrap her lips around the tip, suck until she tore the soul out of his lungs and then swallow him almost in his entire length to allow him to empty himself inside her.

- F-Fuck, open wide, so warr-rm-

He held her in place, moving on impulse, feeling the heat of his own body mix in Y/N's throat, her tongue pampering him until the last drop dirtied her mouth and his long fingers extricated themselves from the curls that he had pulled away from Y/N’s bun, stroking it affectionately, feeling the pop of that dangerous mouth that released him after having swallowed and cleaned up the mess of both of them. Breathing heavily he let himself fall down, pulling her against him as messy as he was, realizing only after long, infinite minutes of silence that at the end they had both managed to relax there together even if how, they had gotten to that point, had not been what he imagined.

He tilted his head, seeing her clinging to him with that tired look that he was responsible for this time and he couldn't help himself, leaving a kiss on her forehead that made her lift her chin to look up.

- We made it again – he noticed, seeing that adorable pout that she reserved only for him.

She who would have eaten alive anyone out there without a second thought, with him instead every now and then she gave into the temptation to behave like a little one and as long as it was her, Roman could handle anything. She owned that right and privilege.

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talaok · 1 year ago

Note

I’m thinking like smt spicy where Pedro (Joel if you write the last of us fic) catching his s/o masturbating and then yk goes from there like take in in the direction you want but like make is spicy? Thank you o love your work!-liz<3

Pairing: Boston!Joel x f!reader

Warnings: Smut| f masturbation, daddy kink, dom! joel (in other words Joel makes you play with yourself while he watches as a punishment cause hes hot and he can do whatever he wants)

A/n: thank you for the really hot request liz💖

*not proofread*

And to think he thought you were cheating on him

he'd just got back from an assignment when he heard a soft moan coming from down the hallway

His heart was beating out of his chest as he approached the bedroom door, and he even debated for a moment whether to open it or not.

he was just so mad and so hurt at the same time that he didn't know what to do, until…

until he heard it

"Joel"

It was so soft, so low, that he wouldn’t have heard a thing if he had been but an inch further.

But his good ear was to the door, and if he wasn’t sure before, it took only a moment for any doubt to leave his mind

“Please Joel- please”

And that was it.

He’d barged in before he even had time to think.

And just as he’d predicted, you were splayed prettily on the bed, your legs bent and spread open with your feet on the covers.

You were naked from the waist down, your torso drowning in one of his flannels.

His gaze started on your bare legs, on your pretty thighs, the same ones he dreamed of living between, and trailed up to where the silhouette of your tits shaped your shirt

And it felt like an eternity, but really it was seconds, because as soon as he entered the room you had scrambled to shut your legs as a gasped "baby!" fled your mouth

He smiled that stupid smile of his he always had on when he knew he had the upper hand, when he knew he got to play with you

“What are you up to?” he asked

“N-nothing”

He tutted at that, shaking his head as he stalked towards the bed, ending up right by your side, his tall and broad body towering over yours.

“You're gonna lie straight to my face, sweetheart, is that it?”

The guilt immediately set in, as you tried to set your shirt in a way that would cover you more

“N-no I'm sorry- I was just…”

“Go on” he urged, nodding

“I was... touching myself “

"mhh" he hummed, his hand going to your face to gently move some hair out of your face "my pretty girl couldn't even wait for me to come back home?"

Your eyes widened as you tried to explain

"I-I thought you'd be home late I-"

"no no now" he shook his head, interrupting you "I don't care about your excuses" he cooed "You've been a bad girl, "his fingers trailed your jaw "and bad girls get punished"

"no please daddy I just- I was just really needy and you weren't here-please, I promise I didn't do anything bad"

"but you did do something bad darlin'" he corrected "and now since you were such an impatient little brat... you're gonna show me just what you were doing"

Your mouth parted in stunner, as your eyes started analyzing his face to see if he was being serious

"b-but I thought maybe you could... help"

"oh no" he hummed, his hand leaving your face as he baked away just to sit at the end of the bed, the mattress creaking beneath his weight "You wouldn't learn a thing from that now, would you?"

"I-I"

"I don't wanna hear it" he shut you down "Now spread those legs and let daddy see what you were doing without his permission"

And just like that, you had obliged, opening your thighs to him, who hummed in approval at the sight of your pretty pussy on display just for him.

"c'mon now, I ain't got all day" he demanded, giving your calves a little pat

Your movements were extraordinarily slow as you brought two of your fingers to your mouth, popping them in to get them wet just to let the travel downwards to your slit.

You waited for his nod before you dived in, starting your usual routine.

You began at your clit, drawing slow circles on it until you felt your hole beg for some attention,

You moaned softly as you gently pushed two of your digits in, finding no resistance, even when Joel's dark eyes were watching your every move as if he were a hawk.

"what were you thinking about?" he asked, making your fingers still

"no, keep going"

"I was" you stuttered, starting to move your fingers in and out of yourself curling them up to that sweet spot that made you feel all dizzy "I was thinking about you"

"What about me?"

You sighed loudly, struggling to keep your eyes open

"I was imagining it was you"

"fingering you?"

"n-no" you shook your head, your breathing quickening just as your pace "I was pretending it was your cock" you confessed "that you were on top of me and that you were inside of me"

"'s that right?" he smirked, the smugness evident in his tone

"y-yeah" you whimpered, feeling so close and yet so incredibly far from your release.

You tried fastening your pace even more, scissoring your fingers, and applying what pressure you could manage with your palm on your clit, but it just- it didn't compare to the real thing... especially when the real thing was tucked in his pants right in front of you.

"J-Joel please I need your help" you begged, your voice a breathy whimper "I-I can't- It's just not-"

"I don't wanna hear it" he spoke "You brought this on yourself, sweetheart. Now focus, or you're gonna have to watch me do the same thing to myself, and you're not gonna get your fill tonight"

The thought woke you up from your trance, feeling like a nightmare

"n-no please" you pleaded, your lips turned to a pout

"less complaining sugar" he cooed, his hands on your calf "Let me see how you can make yourself cum, and I'll give you what you want"

"r-really?"

"yes," he nodded "but only if you're good, can you do that for me, can you show me how my girl makes herself cum on her fingers?"

"Yeah daddy" you promised, a renewed vigor in your voice and movements at the promise "I-I'll be good, I- I swear"

"that's my girl" he praised, making you blush and squirm and only fomenting the ball of pressure creating in your tummy.

"Oh my god" you murmured " I-I'm about to cum daddy"

"c'mon now" he cooed "show me how good you can be"

And that was it, countless little fireworks went off at the same time in your whole body as you whimpered and moaned into the darkness of your closed eyes

"good girl" he grinned, his hand on the big tent that had created in his pants.

You sat up immediately, your chest still heaving, your fingers still wet

"C-can I have my reward now?" you asked, more eager than ever

And to that, he smirked

"Show me how badly you want it"

Such a simple sentence, and it took about a second before you were kneeling between his legs.

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darylsdeadboy · 8 months ago

Text

comfort. ₊˚ෆ˚ 🐇

male! reader x daryl dixon

plot: daryl gives you your much needed comfort. (sigh i feel weird saying comfort twice but i can't think of any other word right now.)

warnings: shitty, rushed writing but it's okay i'm just a boy, reader has daddy issues, non-sexual use of the word daddy. masterlist

You've been in bed all day so far, haven't got up to shower, haven't got up to eat, haven't even got up to use the restroom. You've been like this for a couple weeks so far, staying in your room, pushing everybody away. Everybody in the group has taken notice of this, especially Daryl, but he and the rest of them know better than to force you, so they mostly just let it be.

But Daryl couldn't go like this any longer, watching you slowly become worse and hit rock bottom. It pains him more than anything else in the world. He had to do something about it.

You hear the thumping of steps and soon the sound of your bedroom door creaking open, revealing Daryl in the doorway. He keeps his head down and awkwardly steps in, closing the door behind him. He looks at you. You're in bed, facing the wall, curled up in a fetal position with your knees to your chest. He presses his lips together into a thin line as he contemplates on what to say.

"Ya alrigh'? Haven't been outta bed all day," he speaks softly.

You glance at him, then back at the wall. The room reeks of silence for a good moment until you mumble something barely audible.

"Fine."

He crosses his arms over his chest and gets a little closer to you, looking down at your curled up form. "Ya ain't." He pauses for a second. "Ya've been doin' this a lot, not leavin' yer room. Somethin's wrong. Don't lie t'me."

You're not sure what to say, so you just hum in response, not seeming to interested in the conversation.

He lets his arms fall back to his sides and sighs. "Look, I ain't gonna force anythin' outta ya, but ya gotta talk t'someone eventually. Ya can't jus' keep goin' on like this."

You turn your head to look at him, your eyebrows furrowing. "Like what?" you question, your tone slightly aggressive.

"Like this." he snaps as he swings his arm towards your direction.

You look at your surroundings: used dishes, some with uneaten food on them, empty bottles, and dirty clothes covering your floor and nightstand. It's a complete wreck. You feel your stomach drop a little. You're sick, and you know you're sick, but staring at it, really taking in just what state you're in, what you're doing to yourself, it does something to you, something unexplainable that makes your bottom lip start to quiver, but you're quick to hide it.

"'S not healthy," his voice softens, along with his gaze. He saunters over to your bed, sitting on the edge of it, looking at you, concern displayed on his face. "'M worried about ya. Ya ain't even eaten yet today, have ya?"

You're eyes are locked on him, just staring. You don't respond.

He reaches up to rest his hand on your thigh. You feel the firmness of it against your skin through the blankets. The touch is calming.

"Somethin's goin' on wit' ya. Like I said, ya ain't gotta tell me, but 'm always here if ya need t'talk, y'know that right? I love ya 'n' I care about ya."

Hearing those words made you crumble. Your body tensed and a lump built in your throat, your eyes swelling up with tears, your bottom lip starting to visibly quiver.

Daryl instinctively pulled you close to him as he saw the tears.

"C'mere, sweetheart," he uttered, putting his hands under your armpits and lifting you into his lap gently. His big arms encaged your body, cradling you as if you were a baby, one arm under your knees and the other against your back, your face pressed against his chest as you cried.

You felt safe like this, in his arms. It was as if he was shielding you from all the bad in the world. It was the first time in your life you've ever been held like this, comforted like this, have someone show so much love towards you. You didn't know it was possible. "I got ya, shh, shh, 's alrigh'."

Words spill out of your mouth faster than you can think, shaky and barely coherent. "'M-.. 'm sorry, Daryl. 'M jus' so tired, 'm so t-tired.."

He holds you closer and wipes the tears from your red face with his thumb, pressing a kiss to your hair. "Shh, I know, baby, I know. Ya ain't gotta apologize fer nothin'."

His words fulfilled your entire body, spinning inside your head like all of your worries, but this time it was something better, something you've been yearning to hear for a while, something that warms you. It just makes you sob harder, body practically shaking in his arms. You can't speak, or do anything for that matter, just let Daryl hold you, keep you in this cocoon of warmth. You never wanted this moment to end.

He was treating you in a way your father didn't even do. This man, this treasure of a man you somehow stumbled across in the dark world of the apocalypse, treated you better than your father did. How? Why? Why you? Why were you the one who was picked by the gods above to receive this gift? You didn't deserve him, you didn't deserve anything good in life in your head.

You wanted to tell him, tell him how much he meant to you. He deserves it, you knew that after he told you about his childhood. He deserved the love he never received, but you couldn't form words. You just held him as tight as possible, hoping he'd get the signal, what you're trying to tell him. I love you, I trust you, thank you for being here.

He could feel the tightness of your grip. You were holding onto him like he was gonna slip away if you even dared to let go. His hands tightened around you too. He could make out your message. You've told him about your bad past, about your father, how he's impacted your life harshly, just as he did with you. He knew you needed some type of parental figure in your life, with how young you were. You needed someone to guide you. Maybe, just maybe he could take on that role.

"Shh, breathe fer me. 'M here. Daddy's got ya. Daddy's got ya, sweet boy. Jus' breathe," he speaks, his tone gentle, as if he was talking to a fussy baby.

His words made your breath get caught in your throat, the world stopping around you. Daddy. Sweet boy. It was like you were a little boy again, being nurtured. You were a fussy baby, being held and soothed oh so tenderly once more. Your breathing suddenly slowed and the hurt in your throat eased as Daryl pressed another little kiss to your hair.

"There ya go. Jus' like tha'. Good boy," he praised, the gruffness of his voice vibrating against your ear, his forehead against yours.

He continued petting your hair and whispering sweet words into your ear. He comforted you in a way nobody else could. He was your father right now. You felt safe in his arms. He wouldn't let anything hurt you whatsoever.

It took some time, but you eventually calmed down, and Daryl was with you for the entire time, holding you the whole way through.

As he heard your sobbing turn into nothing but soft sniffles his grip loosened on your body, letting you take your face out of his chest to look up at him, your eyes glossy and your face tinted with a light shade of pink.

He flashed a grin, something that you didn’t get to see very often. You appreciated the sight, even if it was small.

“Better?” he questioned, stroking your hair, moving a couple strands out of your face.

You nodded, giving a hum of confirmation.

“Mhm,” you let your head loll to the side, back on Daryl’s chest.

“Anythin’ I can do fer ya? Ya hungry? Thirsty?” there was genuine concern in his voice. He wanted to put you at ease in anyway he could.

“Mm-mm,” a purr came from your throat. You were too tired, too weak to speak clearly. You felt all limp and fuzzy inside now that you’ve got the cry out that you’ve been needing to release for ages, “sleep.”

He let out an understanding grunt, standing up with you in his arms and resting you back down on your worn out mattress again, reaching for the blanket and covering you with it, making sure to tuck you in nicely.

You buzzed sleepily, cuddling up in the blanket and closing your eyes, feeling your exhaustion begin to overtake you. Daryl stared for a moment, admiring you. You were a sleeping beauty in his eyes, to say the least. You looked so peaceful. He leaned down hesitantly, letting his lips brush against your hair, kissing it then standing up to his full height again.

He turned, starting for the door. He grabbed the doorknob, turning it before he heard your voice again, making him stop and turn his head towards you, your eyes open again, glazed over with sleep.

“Stay, please.”

He grunted, then blinked, his hand falling from the door. He hesitated. Daryl was never much of a cuddler, he thought it was too sappy, but if his boy wanted something, he’d damn well give it to him, no matter what.

He strutted to the bed, his head bowed slightly. The bed creaked under his body weight. He reached down, shuffling his boots off of his feet, hitting the ground with a thud.

He placed his hands on the sheets of the bed and crawled to you, until he was right next to you. He lays down, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

You bury your face in his neck and let your hands roam around his body, feeling the cold leather of his vest beneath your hands, sending a shiver down your spine. A yawn escapes you and you close your eyes once more, now content and able to sleep.

He holds you tight as he watches you slowly drift off, stroking your back. Once he hears the soft snores coming from you, he lets himself rest too, nuzzling his face into your hair with a grunt. “Night, sunshine..”

this is short but it literally took me a month to write. ive just been so lazy lately thats mb 😿

ALSO!!

I HIT OVER 100 FOLLOWERS ?? OML THANK U GUYS SM !! I LOVE U !! 💗💗💗

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x male reader #daryl dixon twd #twd daryl #daryl dixon x ftm reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #dixonsemoboy #daryl dixon smut #norman reedus #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine

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cowgurrrl · 9 months ago

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Ok I have fluff angst idea…Charlie is pregnant and freaking out about telling Joel because she is kinda young. And Joel is mad, scared, excited , crying and also grandpa Joel?!

Hello why did this make me tear up

April, Come She Will

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: it’s canon to me that reader and Joel live to be 100 and nothing bad ever happens to them ever again

Summary: The next generation of Millers find their way [3.6k]

Warnings: teen pregnancy (what’s new for this series lmao), arguing, language, call backs

Charlie's been acting weird for the past few weeks. She's been coming in and out of the house at strange times, not showing up for patrol, and giving you vague answers about where she's been. She's nineteen now, so she doesn't necessarily need you and Joel breathing down her neck all the time, but you still like to know where your kid is. She tells you she's been with Ellie or her boyfriend, Eric, which is fine. You like Eric. You just wish she would spend a little more time at home.

Charlie and Eric met on patrol. No matter how much you tried to dissuade her from joining the patrol team, she wouldn't listen. She had watched you guys go out and defend Jackson as she grew up and even talked to Ellie about her adventures outside the walls. She knew how to ride a horse, and Joel taught her how to handle a gun. The intention was never to "train" her for patrol but to be prepared in a worst-case situation where she needed to protect herself but the second she was old enough, she signed up. She got paired with Eric, a sweet boy her age she went to school with, for her first patrol, and that was it. They've been together ever since.

Joel was hesitant when they started dating, but you reminded him she was an adult and could make her own decisions. Eric was somehow more hesitant when Charlie invited him over for a family dinner. Eric grew up hearing stories about your family, and his dad occasionally worked patrol with Joel, but knowing him by proxy is much different than sitting across from him at the dinner table. Joel promised to be on his best behavior, but poor Eric was terrified any time Joel asked him a question. Since then, they've gotten a little closer, but they are by no means buddies. You're a little nicer.

All this runs through your head when Eric trails behind Charlie into the house. It's a Saturday, and you and Joel are off patrol, sitting next to each other on the couch. You were supposed to go see Ellie and Dina, but they rescheduled for next weekend without much explanation as to why. JJ might've gotten in trouble. At seventeen, he has more of Ellie's wild personality than anything else. It's a little fun to watch her try to handle a younger version of herself.

"Hey, can we talk?" Charlie asks, a slight tremble in her voice. You look up from your book, and Joel leans forward to drop his wood carving knife on the coffee table. She and Eric sit across from you, her leg bouncing anxiously when she does, and you glance between them. You're a little confused as to why Eric has to be here for this, but she's clinging to his hand so hard you almost worry she's gonna break it. Worry claws at the back of your throat, but you swallow it down. Whatever it is, you can handle it.

"Sure, bug," you say. "What's up?"

"Um, so there's something I've been meaning to tell you, but I wanted to get some things squared away before I did because I didn't want you guys to freak out or anything. I understand this is a really big deal, but it's under control, and we have a plan." She explains rapidly, and Joel chuckles as he removes his glasses to rub at his eye.

"You ain't pregnant, are you?" He asks, and Charlie is silent. That's when you feel your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. Your mouth goes dry, and you sit up, staring at her like you're waiting for her to say she's joking. "Charlotte," Joel says, his tone even and scarily calm. "You're not. Right?"

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she says, tears shining in her eyes. "But we… we have a plan. We're gonna get set up in a house, and Ellie's gonna lend us some of JJ's old things, and we're gonna pick up some more shifts before the baby comes. It's all gonna be okay."

You can't help but feel like you set her up for failure, not only with your own teen pregnancy but with your inability to keep her safe. In the old days, you might've been able to put her on birth control or give her condoms when she started dating, but those things aren't on the top of the list for what little FEDRA manufacturing is left. The best "safe sex" talk you could have with her is letting her know her options if she did get pregnant or sick. You hated it, but there wasn't much else you could do. And now look where you are.

"Mom, can you please say something?" Charlie begs as Eric rubs her back. You thought you'd be prepared for something like this with your and Joel's (and Ellie's) family life starting earlier than most. Instead, you find yourself, possibly for the first time ever, sympathizing with your mother. You pull yourself together enough to open your mouth.

"You wanna have this baby?" You ask, and she nods.

"We already decided. We're not gonna get married or anything yet, but yeah, we want this baby," she says. Eric doesn't say anything. You figure that's probably smart. It's only a matter of time before Joel freaks the fuck out about the fact that he got your baby girl pregnant. "That's why I went to Ellie's the other day. I was talking to her, Aunt Dina, and Uncle Jesse about when they had Jay." She says. You try not to be offended that she told Ellie before she told you. You told lots of people before you told your mom you were pregnant. Still, you thought you and Charlie were closer than you and your mom were.

You look at Joel, the same panic and anger taking over his features, and take a deep breath. He grinds his teeth as he thinks, and you have to stop yourself from scolding him. When you look back at Charlie, her face is splotchy, and her brown eyes sparkle in the mid-afternoon light. She looks so grown up but so little at the same time. Your eyes slide from hers to Eric's wide ones.

"I'm assuming you know the stories about Jane and her dad?" You ask.

"Yes, ma'am." He croaks, and you nod.

"And I'm assuming you know how Joel and I got to Jackson in the first place?"

"Mom," Charlie starts, but you catch Joel shaking his head at her in your peripheral vision. Eric swallows thickly and nods.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good," you say. "If I ever hear anything about you not being there for Charlie or that baby, or if you even think about leaving them, I'll fucking kill you." You haven't had to speak this way in years, and it, obviously, rattles both Charlie and Eric. Good. You hope it does rattle him.

"Mom!" Charlie scolds, looking to Joel for help, but it's clear that he has your back with this one. You'll be damned if she ends up a single parent like you two were. She scoffs and stands, pulling Eric up with her. "You don't have to listen to this, Eric."

"Yes, he does." You say.

"Baby, what did you think we were gonna say?" Joel asks.

"That you'd support my decision or, at least, find a way to!"

"Of course, we support you. I just..." Joel trails off. "I just don't think you know what this means. How much this is gonna change your life. And I know you love each other, but havin' a baby ain't an easy thing."

"That's why we're doing it together," she says, her eyes moving from Joel's to yours. "That's why it's fucking crazy to talk to him like that. And unfair. You didn't act this way when Ellie had JJ."

"That's because we didn't need to have this same talk with them. Jesse and Dina had already decided to co-parent Jay. There was no way Dina was gonna be a single mom," you say. "But there were three of them, and it was still hard. You were just a baby when he was born, so you don't remember, but it was a lot."

"So, you don't think I can be a mom?" She asks, and you stand with your hands up in defeat.

"I didn't say that. I just want you to be prepared. I remember what it was like, and I-"

"Just because you were miserable when you had Jane doesn't mean everyone is." It's mean and calculated and hits you right where it hurts. It doesn't matter if it's the hormones or not. The sting of her words renders you silent.

"Don't you speak to your mother that way!" Joel yells. He never yells anymore, especially at Charlie. The scary boom in his voice fills the room, but you catch the glint of tears in his eyes as his breathing stutters. "This ain't just playin' house, Charlie. So, if your mama is a little worried, she's allowed to be. Shit, we're all allowed to lose our fuckin' minds for a minute, but that isn't an excuse to talk bout your family like that." He says, and she taps her shoe on the ground twice, a nervous tick she picked up from Joel.

"I'm sorry, Mom, but I can't just sit here and listen to you threaten Eric like that," she says. You nod but don't apologize. You can't find anything to say. Charlie stares at you like she's waiting for you to lash out or yell at her, but you can't. She wipes a stray tear away furiously and turns away. "I need some air," she mumbles, dragging Eric out of the house before you can even protest. The door slams behind her, and the floorboards she took her first steps on shake with the force. Joel reaches for your hand and pulls you into him. He murmurs soft assurances into your hair, his voice cracking and tears spilling from his eyes as he does, and all you can do is let him hold you.

What the fuck else are you supposed to do?

You wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of the bathroom door in the hall slamming open. You and Joel jolt upright in bed at the sudden sound (old habits die hard, right?), and you sigh as you rub your eyes. You check the alarm clock next to your bed for the time and see it's close to three. The dark mountain town is still asleep outside your window, and you grab a soft flannel from the floor to pull over your shoulders.

You don't remember falling asleep. You were up, waiting for Charlie to come home so you could talk further, but when the front door opened and closed, and she basically sprinted to her room, you couldn't find the energy for another fight. But when you laid down, you couldn't sleep either, your conversation from earlier playing on a loop in your mind. You and Joel just sat there in silence, staring up at the ceiling until your eyelids got too heavy, and you fell into a dreamless sleep. You couldn't have been asleep for over an hour or two when the bathroom door swung open. Joel looks at you, confused when you stand.

"What are you doin'?" He asks, and you wave him off.

"I know why she's up. Just go back to bed." You say without much explanation before padding down the hallway and into the bathroom.

Your footsteps are loud enough on the tile for her to hear you, so she doesn't flinch when you suddenly pull her hair away from her face and hold it out of the way. She glances at you and softens a little before retching into the toilet again. She does that for another minute or two before her stomach is finally empty, and you can safely let go of her hair. She sighs and leans against the wall as you flush the toilet and hand her a towel. You settle across from her, your back pressed against the sink, and rub her leg as she wipes her face.

"Thanks," she mumbles as she tips her head back against the wall. She looks tired and weak. All you want to do is scoop her up in your arms like she's three years old again. "I feel like shit."

"I'm sorry. That's my genetics. I was super sick with you and Jane." Her name rolls off your tongue so fast you almost forget the last time it was invoked. The air stiffens between you, and she shifts uncomfortably.

"How long were you sick for?" She asks softly. You sigh as you track your memory back and try to remember the exact details.

"About six months," you admit, and she groans. You laugh a little at her reaction, but only because you know how frustrating it is. If you could take it from her, you would. When you settle, she stares at you guiltily and starts picking at the nail bed around her thumb like she can't stand the silence. "Where did you guys go?" you ask to put her out of her misery.

"I just… needed to get out of the house. We walked around town for a while before going to his parent's house," she says. "They still don't know. We wanted to tell y'all first." You nod, unable to give words to your gratitude just yet, and she swallows thickly.

"You could've stayed," you whisper. "I wanted you to stay."

"I know," she says. "I'm sorry. For everything." She looks like she could start crying again, so you take a deep breath, scoot over to her, wrap her in your arms, and kiss her temple. You feel her relax into you, and a weight is lifted off your shoulders.

"You know your dad and I worry about you. It's not about you not being capable or not smart enough because you are plenty capable and smart. But we also know that it doesn't matter how prepared you think you are. There's nothing that can prepare you for being a parent, and that's not me trying to scare you. It's just how it is." You explain, and she nods into your neck.

"That's what Ellie said, too." She says.

"Smart kid."

"I feel like I fucked up," she pivots dramatically, but you hold on tightly and wait for her to continue. I'm right here with you, baby girl, you think. "I want to be happy because Eric seems happy, and you're supposed to be happy when you find out you're pregnant, but I'm so fucking scared." She sounds like she's on the brink of tears again, and you shush her. She sighs heavily and wipes at her face as she leans back enough to see you. "Were you scared when you found out you were pregnant?"

"Both times, I was fucking terrified. With you, it came later, though. Even though your dad and I talked about having another kid and how amazing you'd end up being, I remember going into labor and shaking cause of how scared I was." You say, and she nods.

"How did you... know you were supposed to be a mom? She asks. It's a loaded question. How does anyone ever know they're "supposed" to be a parent? You certainly didn't think you were meant for anything that important at sixteen, but you do remember why you made the decision you did.

"I, um…" you trail off, laughing. "I started having these dreams after I found out I was pregnant."

"Dreams?"

"It was pretty much the same thing over and over again for a few months. I would be going through my regular routine, but this… baby was following me around. I couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl, but I knew it was my baby. And it came with me to school, the grocery store, work, everything, and as time passed in my dream, the bigger the baby got. They'd get more personality or start laughing, or their eyes would change colors, and I'd be so in love with them," You know you sound crazy, but that's because it was crazy. "The first few times, I woke up crying because the baby from my dreams wasn't there. I thought there was nothing worse than waking up in the morning and not having my kid there," you say. The weight of your words catches up with you, and you have to bite your bottom lip to keep from crying. "And I was right." You shake your head and take a deep breath, hyper-aware of her eyes on you.

"I had the same dreams when I got pregnant with you, except they were a little different. In all of them, you were always with Ellie and Dad— every single time. I thought you were gonna grow up and not like me as much or whatever other reason my hormones gave me for the change, but, towards the end, you started showing up alone. You were just this little light. I can't describe it exactly, but everything I did in the dream was a little more magical because you were there. Things were shiny or glittery, and you would just giggle and giggle and giggle," you say, smiling at the memory. You grab her hand and squeeze hard, looking directly into her eyes and fighting more tears. "You turned my world technicolor even before you were born, and I knew I would always do everything I could to protect you. That's why I was so hard on Eric. I know he's a good kid and nothing like Jane's dad was, but I don't want you to end up like me, kid." Charlie squeezes your hand, somehow harder than you squeeze her, and a familiar crease appears between her eyebrows.

"Mommy, if I'm half the woman you are, I'd be so fucking happy. Are you kidding me?" She says.

"Charlotte-"

"I'm serious," she cuts you off, Joel's commanding yet gentle tone seeping into her voice. "Mom, you made my lunch until I was in high school, and even when I asked you to stop, you still had one ready to go just in case I needed it. You used to take JJ and me to the park so Ellie and Aunt Dina could get some sleep, even though everyone knew that meant you didn't get any. You convinced Dad to talk to Eric because you knew I loved him and wanted him to like him..." She slows down a little bit, scanning your face before she continues. "You kept a kid alive during the Outbreak despite everything. You still buy her flowers on her birthday. You tell me about her. You let me know her," you take a shaky breath, and you can't stop the tears anymore. "You're a good mom, and I'm so lucky to have you, and I'm sorry for what I said and for getting pregnant and-"

This time, you stop her by hugging her tight and letting yourself cry. She gets emotional, too, and a very unlucky Joel finds the two of you crying on the bathroom floor in the middle of the night. Like everything, he takes it in stride and joins you two on the floor until the sun breaches over the mountains and a new day shines down.

It's hard to say things got easier after that day. Eric's parents didn't react very positively at first, and it took them most of her pregnancy to come around. Charlie goes through weeks of sickness and bed rest. They argue a lot about the future and what it should look like, but they get there in the end. The next year, the house is filled with a familiar chatter and chaos. Charlie and Eric's twins (which explains why she felt so bad), Elliot "Ellie" Beth, and April Theresa Miller-Donovan, squeal as Joel takes turns dancing with them in the living room.

Elliot is, obviously, named in honor of your Ellie, but she bears Sarah's middle name. April threw you for a loop. The twins were born in snowy January, confusing you as to why they would name her that and not January, but Charlie smiled as she handed April to you. "Jane's birthday is April 7th. I didn't want to steal your name, but I remember you taking me to the meadow to pick flowers for her. April 7th was always my favorite day." She explained, making you choke up. When she told you April's middle name, you and Joel completely lost it. Theresa, for your Tess, the woman who believed so much in Ellie, she forced you to believe in her, too. The woman who saved your life in more ways than one. The woman who would've absolutely adored Charlie if she ever met her.

You love being grandparents again— admittedly, a little older than you were the first time around. Joel teaches the girls Spanish words and lets them pull on his beard. You make extra food so your baby has something to eat after the long days and nights of keeping them alive, and you play silly games with them. They don't look like you or Joel or even Charlie or Eric. They look like their own little people. People who will never know the loss, destruction, and nights spent staring hopelessly at walls you went through. People who will grow up safe and loved and cared for. People who carry names they won't be able to put a face to.

That's okay. They don't need to know about the people you were before you were their grandparents, and maybe it's time for you to try to let that time go. Maybe, in your and Joel's old age, with the deep wrinkles and graying hair, you can just be. Maybe you can just dance in the living room and make warm blankets and fall asleep holding hands. Maybe everything does turn out okay.

#look for the light #thank you for the gorgeous request!!#joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller series #joel miller fic #dad!joel miller #the last of us fic #the last of us au #tlou au #joel the last of us #the last of us #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal characters

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elvisabutler · 1 year ago

Text

don't rock the boat

fandom: elvis 2022 | elvis presley rating: m pairing: elvis presley ( 50s elvis ) x female reader word count: 2419 warnings: handjobs. public play. use of teddy bear and sugar bear and as nicknames. mild embarrassment kink. talk about fear of heights. mild insecurity on the reader's part. minor cum eating. a minor touch of sub e but not quite? author’s note: welcome to day 11 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, public play with 50s elvis presley x reader. no real notes for this beyond you can imagine austin or regular elvis for this and this went through a name change and a "what happened in the smut" change twice. thank y'all for reading and i hope this scratches an itch for some of y'all! and yes i did forget a warning or two. that'll teach me to post before dinner.

"Don't wanna pretend ya don't exist," Elvis murmurs into the crook of your neck. "Satnin loves ya and Daddy does and Dodger a-and if my fans don't, then maybe they ain't fans of *me*."

You laugh, watching as the warm air from your breath shook a few of Elvis's strands of hair loose. "Oh, they're fans alright. Jus' of those hips and what they want you to do wit' 'em."

Your boyfriend of two years looks down at his feet, the very picture of the shy boy you fell in love with. That boy you fell in love with who stuttered so bad you had to finish his words for him until he got used to you and gave you little nicknames. None of them have stuck, though and he's had to resort to the typical baby and darlin'. Still, it doesn't change the rush of love he feels for you and that you feel for him any time you're within fifty feet of each other.

He's still managing the bashful look for longer than you think is strictly necessary and you take a moment to bend down, forcing him to have to look at your face, grin and all. "Am I making my Teddy Bear feel embarrassed? Don't wanna think of all those girls dreaming of you and your hips?"

There's more words on the tip of your tongue that Elvis makes disappear when he sneaks a kiss on your lips and steals just a little bit of your breath away. His smile threatens to fill your heart to bursting with love before he speaks. "I know I got one girl I want to. Kisses like an angel, too."

"An angel?" Your tone is a little playful, as you grab at his face and pull him in for another kiss. "Does she look like one too?"

His eyes soften just a tad before pressing his forehead against yours. "Always. Figure if I marry her I'll be in heaven on Earth."

A laugh leaves your mouth as you shake your head. "Now you're jus' bein' cheesy, 'Vis. Come on, let's— you promised me time at this fair 'fore you gotta go back on tour."

"Still think I oughta take ya wit' me," is all you hear behind you as a grumbled reply.

"I'm not going on the ferris wheel!"

"Darlin', it ain't that high. Don't ya wanna look over the whole fair? Feel larger than everythin'?" Elvis tries to reason with you in front of the ferris wheel. You're both thankfully not in line and holding it up but you're still within earshot of some people snickering.

"I— That's what you want to do, not— not me. No, I'm okay to stay on the ground, thank you very much." You wince at how you're practically stuttering out your answer and at how people are snickering at the discussion about it that you and Elvis are having.

Elvis's eyes drift to the crowd and in the back of his mind he hears the Colonel's voice reminding him that those girls are the ones who pay to hear him sing. Those girls don't know you're anything more than a friend to him. After all, it's one thing to have a famous girl on your arm, another to have in his words—a plain Jane hometown girl. One is threatening and the other is something that can be tossed aside. Their laughter has gotten louder and he sees you starting to curl in on yourself in an effort to make yourself seem smaller and less noticeable. That's not what you do. That's never been what you do and Elvis can't stand seeing it. With one final glance toward the crowd, he steps forward and grabs your face with both hands, pulling you into a kiss. There's a series of loud gasps in the crowd and you immediately start to pull away only to feel one of his hands move down to your hip and pull you back flush against him. You swear you feel his cock starting to firm up.

"I wanna take in every moment tonight wit' ya. I know ya don't wanna go up on that but— honey, I don't— I gotta have ya with me." He looks back at the crowd. "And I wanna show ya off. Want 'em to see who I love more than anyone other than my mama."

For a moment you don't move, the still tittering giggles echoing in your head even as his words fully sink in. He wants to be with you and wants to show people he's with you, damn the consequences to his career. It warms you from the inside out on the slightly chilly October night and you can't help the way you bite your lip and rock just slightly against him as a thank you almost. His eyes widen just a hair even as they darken.

"You're gonna have to protect me, Teddy Bear. And you'll have to do the leading this time."

A smirk crosses his lips before he steps away, holding out his hand as he does so. "Then come on, Sugar Bear. Let me show ya how fun these can be."

Flashes of cameras are the only thing you see going up and a part of you wants to bury your face into Elvis's chest before you decide against it. He wants to show you off so you'll give everyone a show to see you at least this once. Elvis is talking to you as you're going up, telling you to look in the distance and pointing out things that make him laugh, shaking the pod as he does. It should terrify you but seeing Elvis happy like this calms you down better than you ever thought was possible. As you finally reach the top, you've curled against Elvis, your hand settled into his lap as he peers over at you.

"Ya plannin' on doin' somethin' there, Sugar Bear?" He teases even as he realizes that this Ferris wheel is going awfully slow and he swears he hears something creaking that shouldn't be. A quick peek down has him even more worried, not that he shows it on his face.

"I felt him. Down there, 'Vis. Felt him say hello against me." You answer, attempting to appear innocent, only to have the smirk on your face ruining it. "Thought he wanted to see one of his friends."

Elvis leans back against the back of the pod and lets out a sigh. "Oh he wants to see one o' them al'ight. Jus' not the one you're bringin' out."

You start to open your mouth to speak only to hear the sound of the Ferris wheel stopping. Your heartbeat jumps as you look down and feel the pod move with every shift you and Elvis do. This is why you hadn't wanted to come up here and within what feels like an instant your breath starts coming in small pants, panicking until you feel Elvis's hands grab yours. For some ungodly reason his cock is still at attention, pressing against his slacks and giving your eyes something to focus on that isn't the ground below you.

"Sugar Bear, you— look at me. Focus on me. Ain't— We'll be fine. Got stuck on one of these in Alabama a while back. They're gonna fix it." Elvis stares at your face for a moment before glancing down at your hands, still faintly shaking. "Let— I'm gonna— Ya need somethin' else to focus on. Ya— hell, this ain't the time and place but ya wanna focus on him? Got him all achin' for ya."

"Someone might see!" You practically shout though no one can hear you from how high up you are. "I— Elvis. It'll be all over the papers and you'll be in so much trouble."

"'Cause I fooled 'round with my girlfriend?" His answering chuckle has the pod shaking just a little bit and you bite your lip, eyes trying to stay glued to his crotch in order to focus on something calming— in a way. "Darlin'— ya— ain't no one gonna see but you and me. I'll— I'll make it up to ya as soon as we're back on the ground."

As if to prove the point, he removes one of his hands and places it right above your pubic bone, pressing against it in a way that has you arching your back just a little bit. You curse the fact that he knows you so well in that moment and curse how you know he's aware of how damp your underwear has become with that action after everything else. Your tongue darts out to lick at your lips before your free hand starts to unbutton his slacks.

Tonight you had thought Elvis had on his underwear and yet as soon as your hand moves the zipper, you're greeted by the soft flesh of his foreskin. There's minor prickles of his hair but you ignore them in favor of seeing how his pink little head is starting to peek out. Your mouth waters.

"You gotta be quiet, Teddy Bear. And you better promise."

"Scouts honor, honey— Lord—" he hisses out a curse word or five at the way you spit onto his cock, preparing it before his precum could do the job for you. You take your time, inching back his foreskin and revealing his aching cock to you. "Gentle— I— Been forever since I had ya grip 'im like this."

A smile crosses your face at the praise as Elvis shifts, trying to pump his cock in your hand when you're not moving it. "Patience, Teddy Bear. I can lead you everywhere, 'member? I don't want to hurt him."

"He'll heal up for his other friends real quick," he pants as you finally start to move your hand against the soft skin of his cock. The precum his body produces in what always feels like an overabundance having your hand glide smoothly up and down his cock. Your thumb brushes against the tip and his teeth dig into his lower lip to try and not yowl at the sensation. Your hands smaller than his but it's so much softer, no calluses and gentler even as your pace feels breakneck. His hips don't want to stop moving, humping as if that will earn him more friction or give him a better hole to fuck then the one you're making with your hand. It rocks the pod enough that he finally feels your free arm practically pinning his hips down. "Come— Don't be like that. Let 'em—"

"We're shakin' too much." You say as if that explains everything. "You still want to— release don't you?"

Somehow despite having seen each other naked and despite the fact that you two have done multiple sexual things together the word come always flusters you just a little. In another time and place Elvis would have laughed. If his cock wasn't feeling like it was gonna burst, he'd have laughed. He swears his balls twitch in fear at the idea of not coming. The only response he can manage is a fierce nod. "Ya know I do."

"Then stop movin'!," you request except it sounds more like a demand than anything else. It works though and Elvis finds himself pinned to the back of the seat in the pod even as you remove your arm. He chances a glance at you, marveling in how your tongue sticks out as you pump his pink cock. Your hand can't entirely fit around it and yet it feels better than any time he stroked himself on the road to the thought of you. His cock is covered in precum and he wishes it was both yours and his making it shiny and glistening but for now it'll do. He can survive and bury his face in your little kitty and bury his cock in later. He leans back, head looking up at the night sky, trying to keep himself from coming too soon at the feel of your hand and how your face looks as you pleasure him.

There's a noise that signals they're almost done fixing the ferris wheel that hits Elvis's ears over the slick and squelching sounds of your hand pumping his cock and he moves to grab your wrist, forcing you to stop. "We're gonna start moving soon. Gotta—"

As if you don't want to hear the words he's saying you cut him off with a kiss and start to move your hand and wrist and thumb in such a way that has him clawing at the metal, your skirt, his pants, anything to try and steady himself before you lean over and whisper. "Let go."

Despite his best efforts a shout leaves his mouth as he comes, the intensity hitting him not unlike a lightning bolt. His breath comes in pants, quick and uncontrolled as he looks down to see your hand covered in his cum and the seat with some of it as well. He supposes he should be thankful it didn't get onto his pants. He starts to offer a handkerchief he has in his pocket to clean you off before he realizes you're licking your hand clean. Words fail him in that moment as he just stares.

You shrug even as he can see the embarrassment at being caught clear on your face. "I— i missed how it tasted."

"You can taste him all night long tonight." He murmurs, the words tumbling out before he even thinks to say anything else. His mouth is open to say more when you both feel the ride start to move once more. Elvis wastes no time in buttoning up his slacks and making sure you're both put back together as if nothing had happened by the time you're back on the ground.

The pair of you don't waste a single moment exiting the pod, ignoring Scotty's question about what that shout was up there to try and find some place private enough for Elvis to stick his head under your skirt. You settle for a private spot next to a tent no one goes into in the dark. As Elvis sinks down to his knees he winks at you. "Missed how she tasted too. One more ride after this? Or do I need to take you home?"

"Depends," you look down at Elvis and card your hands through his hair. "Depends on if we're still achin' after all this."

taglist: @ab4eva , @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis, @stylespresleyhearted @be-my-ally, @mooodyblue, @pixiedustcosmos, @jessicarcates, @amydarcimarie, @flwrs4aust, @myradiaz, @adaydreamaway08, @arabellalightning505, @doll-elvis guarantee i’m missing someone. i tried the end. also i clearly added this originally. also you want to be added just ask me. i keep forgetting people or losing people in these and just it’s a mess.

#elvis presley #elvis 2022 #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley smut #50s elvis #austin elvis x reader #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presley imagine #ally writes #ally's wet hot smut summer

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multifandomslxt · 1 year ago

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NCT 127 and their Sugar Daddy Ratings Pt.3

Kim Jungwoo

a neat 9.78/10 (He's stubborn asf)

He is 100% from a very long line of renowned singers and actors

his great great great great great great grandparents worked with Shakespeare multiple times (He includes that in every conversation)

so yk what that means...

he's a trust fund baby lmaoooo

never had to work a day in his life

but still chooses to

he owns a world-renowned academy for the arts

with branches all over the world

Yall met at a Gala he had to attend

You were a temporary assistant for a snobby and rude guest

and you hated it but you had bills to pay boo

on your very first meeting, he spilled red wine all over your very much white-now pink- dress.

I ain't gon lie

Jungwoo ain't one of the nice rich people

"Watch where you're going."

you had to look up at this bitch like

"???"

now you were pissed and all sticky thanks to his mistake

so you demanded compensation

After some back and forth

he takes you away from the gala and

has his driver carry you both to a high-end boutique

buys a dress 10x more expensive than the one you had on

doesn't give af

begin to pry

asks why you came as a temporary assistant instead of a guest

you tell him you're broke and in between jobs

he offers to pay a lil something in exchange for you keeping your mouth shut about his rude behavior

"I have a reputation to uphold"

safe to say somehow that created a pipeline

and now

he's your sugar daddy

BUT

You guy's HATE each other lmaoo

y'all literally cannot stand each other

but he gets jealous when another man is near you

rather scrape his bare ass against concrete than watch you walk into a cheap ass restaurant

and rather die than hear you can't make rent this month

But my gosh...

The sex?!?!

hate sex is superior btw

"5 minutes ago you were calling me a jerk and now you're all fucked out on my bed heh."

"I can't fucking stand you and your attitude. Shut the fuck up and strip"

He 'hates' you but his hands are always wrapped around your waist when y'all are in public

He 'hates' you but has your favorite coffee order and every mole on your body memorized.

he 'hates you but smiles like a fool when you text him.

Lee Haechan

imma give him a 11/10 (he's great just horny lmaoo)

a professional menace lemme just say lmaoo

He's a world-famous singer

Owns his own record company

with famous artists

you guys met at his concert

a meet and great

he was immediately smitten by you

asked you out for coffee when everything was finished

and yall hit it off

y'all became friends (you expected more didn't you lmaoo)

at some point shit hit the fan and you couldn't make ends meet

Haechan being the friend he is offers to help you until you were back on your feet

but you being you said no

lmaoo

As if that would stop him

from paying our rent for the rest of the year

and stocking up your fridge every weekend

'accidentally' sending you 10k every weekend

and buying you a car to "get around"

one day he just outright admits that he is both your friend and sugar daddy

fucking hell lmaooo

he gives you a card under his name for anything

Will spontaneously take you on trips to places you've never been

when you complain he threatens to shut you up with 'something'

yes you've found out multiple times what that something was

hehe

"I sent you 10k last week and you still haven't spent it. What do you want me to do? fuck the stubbornness out of you?"

"You don't like when daddy spends his money on you pretty girl? too fucking bad"

yall 100% have frantic and needy s3x

#nct imagines #nct yuta #nct fanfic #nct taeyong #nct dream #nct doyoung #nct fluff #nct 127 #nct smut #nct scenarios #nct mark #nct taeil #nct jaehyun #nct jungwoo #nct johnny #nct haechan #multifandomslxt

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nerdforestgirl · 7 months ago

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Note: Hey. It's fourteen years since the first appearance of Amy Farrah Fowler, or Fluff Crawlspace if you will. I wrote a thing. I hope you enjoy it. This is not Amy Farrah Fowler enough, but it's what I have. It's cute.

“Go, Leonard,” Sheldon yelled from his spot in the stands. He actually had no idea if his son was anywhere close to scoring, but he usually cheered the boy on any time he go close to the goal. Sheldon didn't understand much of the game beyond what he picked up from watching NHL games with Leonard (which was really playing on his phone while the game played in the background). It didn't really matter. Amy reminded him that he needed to at least try to take interest in his son's hobbies. This was him trying.

“Daddy, I'm cold,” a little voice said from beside him.

“Oh no,” Sheldon said playfully. This was a common complaint from his daughter. She was too used to the California sun to want to spend so many of her Saturdays at the ice rink. She was bundled up in a jacket and gloves, but sometimes they just weren't enough.

Sheldon took off his hockey jersey and pulled it on over his daughter's head and over her arms. It was comically large on her small frame, but it should help keep her warm. Still, he knew that he would probably be taking her to the snack stand for a cup of hot chocolate before the game was over.

Sheldon picked up his daughter and pulled her onto his lap, and wrapped his arms around her. This was more for him that for her. Without the jersey, he was a little cold himself. Still, his little girl leaned into his chest and looked back down at her book.

“What are you reading?” Sheldon said quietly into her ear.

“Mommy's favorite,” she said proudly as she showed him the cover. It was an ancient and beat up, but well loved copy of The Long Winter. Amy had gotten her old set of The Little House on the Prairie books from her own mother about a month ago, and had promptly handed them over as long as the little girl promised to take good care of them. So far, she had done an excellent job.

Sheldon couldn't believe how much he enjoyed watching his children become actual humans. It seemed like no time since they had both been little blobs that just drank milk, pooped, and slept all day. And yet, somehow they had both grown into real people with interests all their own.

Sometimes he could see the little pieces of himself and Amy in them. Other times, he could see Georgie, Missy, his mother, his father, Meemaw, Pop Pop, and even his uncle Stumpy once or twice. People his children had never even met had wormed their way in. And on occasion, that drove Sheldon absolutely crazy. Other times, he didn't mind so much. He loved all of those people for a reason, so it wasn't bad to see them show up in his children. Except for Leonard's inexplicable habit of saying “ain't” after one week with his Uncle Georgie.

“Daddy, can I have a snack?”

“She will ruin her dinner,” Amy reminded Sheldon without even looking away from the game. It was getting intense, but it was at the other goal, so Sheldon wasn't as invested. He knew he wouldn't miss a goal from Leonard.

“Come on. Just a hot chocolate?” Sheldon asked his wife. His daughter didn't ever have to try to convince her mother to do anything. She had Sheldon so wrapped around her little finger that he did it for her.

“One hot chocolate. And bring me one too,” Amy agreed. It was chilly in here after all.

“And maybe some popcorn,” Sheldon muttered.

“No,” Amy said.

“I can't hear you,” Sheldon said as he was already walking away. He heard everything his wife said, but he wanted to spoil the girl a little anyway. He realized that his hand was empty, so he turned back.

“Coming, Mary?” Sheldon asked as he reached out his hand toward her.

Sheldon's daughter ran to catch up to her father and placed her small hand in his. He knew there were a limited number of days left that she would be willing to hold his hand, and he would not let go until that day came.

#nfg fan fiction #shamy fanfic

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kai-anderson-whore · 2 years ago

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What they're like when your pregnant (the Evans headcons)

(Evan peters)

when you showed him the test he was shocked

he didn't really want kids since he's busy with acting

but is on board 1000% and does anything to help you

tells everyone on set and they all plan a baby shower

goes to every scan

sometimes he gets a little pissed off with your mood swings but knows its not you

loves your bump

once the baby is born he's glued to the baby

(Tate Langdon)

he thinks he recreated the antichrist

also is confused since your dead too

he's so scared since he has to raise the baby

thinks he's going to fuck it up

you need to reassure him he's not

does anything you want you don't have to lift a finger

practices with vivs baby

he gets so scared when the baby kicks

"What's happening are you okay?" He panics "Yeah it's just kicking" you laugh

he hopes its a girl this time

once the baby's born he's doesn't know what to do he thinks head hurt the little thing

(Kit walker)

Kit is so ecstatic when you tell him he's going to be a dad again

tells the kids right away

he kept some of the kids baby clothes and cribs ect

Will buy a whole lot more stuff for the baby

already thinking of names on the first month

knows exactly what to do when your moody or uncomfortable

is on love with your body even more as your bump grows

once the baby is born he would want to show everyone especially lana

(Pre-death kyle Spencer)

He panics when you tell him your pregnant

he isn't ready at all to be a dad since your both young and he's in college

probably getting into an argument about you keep it

he finally agrees

has no clue on what to do but is there and and foot

gets a job to save money for baby things

Will just hug you when your moody

100% will faint when you give birth

when he gathers round he sees you with his child and he crys with happiness

(Jimmy darling)

He's nervous when you tell him "what if the baby's like me?" "Jimmy if the baby is like you then they'll be a heartbreaker like their daddy"

goes to tell the freaks

Ethel is there to help you and Jimmy on what to expect

the freaks making you gifts for the baby shower

Jimmy always talks to your bump when your asleep "I promise little one I ain't gonna leave like my dad did never"

your not really sleeping so you hear him and try not to cry

when giving birth Ethel delivers the baby

you screaming such at Jimmy like "you did this to me" "I love you Jimmy but I hate you"

You don't mean it obviously

"look y/n they have my hands" Jimmy beams

(James patrick march)

he's confused at first he's dead

but he's delighted

has liz buy the most lavish baby stuff

"nothing but the best for my child my dear"

doesn't really think he'll be a hands on dad

doesn't know what to do when your moody it pisses him off at times

miss evers telling you old pregnancy remedies

James keeps you out of harms way

Will try and smoke infront of you

"James your going to have to quit smoking its bad for the baby" you tell him "this is an outrage" he huffs

once the baby is born he's so happy

they look like him with the dark hair and brown eyes

(Rory monahan)

He tells everyone and their mothers about the news

expect to be trending on twitter or something

is constantly updating the world on your pregnancy

takes time off acting to be with you he does not want to miss a second of the pregnancy

expect to be bombarded with baby books

goes to every scan and prenatal classes

asks a lot of questions

(Kai Anderson)

He's so happy that his messiah baby is finally happening

he's like the old kai you used to know

doesn't let you do anything

I mean anything

which makes you pissed off

keeps out of anything about the cult he doesn't want to stress you since it affects the baby

he's more affectionate

you think maybe get pregnant more since he's a lot nicer

once the baby is born kai shows his cult members

"THE MESSIAH IS BORN"

(Austin sommers)

he's shocked at first you both have been fooling around a bit and now your pregnant

Will cut back from writing and the black pills during your pregnancy since it distracts him

belle is a bit pissed since she won't have her buddy as much anymore

he will go to every appointment with you

kinda has an idea on what to do to comfort you

you getting spoiled

his hands are constantly on your bump

when baby is born he will probably write about being a new dad

#peter maximoff #ahs fanfic #ahs smut #ahs fandom #kit walker #ahs asylum #kai anderson x reader #american horror story #evan peters #james patrick march #jimmy darling #tate langdon #kyle spencer #ahs roanoke #american horror story covan #austin sommers #American horror story fanfic #headcanon

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doiesfav · 1 year ago

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ﾟ𐦍༘⋆Strawberry Sunday - Doyoung ||

Pairing: father! Doyoung x fem! Reader

Plot: You realized that your daughter would feel awkward with his own dad sometimes so you decided to do a picnic to help them improve their relationship.

Genre: fluff, parenthood, established relationship, slice of life, fiction

doesn’t contain anything tbh

wc -> 1,5k

A/n: I JUST FINISHED WRITING IT WHILE ISTJ WAS OUT AND OMG WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK? THE WHOLE ALBUM IS SO GOOD (PRETZEL THO) Anyways thanks guys again for supporting me ♡

From PARENTHOOD SERIES

MASTERLIST

banners and dividers are self made

You and Doyoung always wanted a child, it was both of your dreams as a couple and it became true. He has been working nonstop to provide a comfortable lifestyle for the family, and when you became pregnant it was as if all his hard work were paid off. But even though you guys achieved it, he hadn't had that much time to spend time together with her 2-year-old daughter, Aeyoung.

Sunday, a day were a family can relax and have fun together. Your 6 year old daughter doesn’t spend a lot of time with her dad like they used to, instead it has became kinda awkward when those two were alone so you decided to resolve that. First thing you did when you woke up was kiss doyoung on his cheek, you were used to it since dating so why not.

He was still asleep and you went to check on your daughter, “honey, wake up the sun already rose” You could see her trying to wake up because she was the well mannered and responsible type of kid. You petted her messy dark hair that reminded you of doyoung’s one, in fact, she resembles Doyoung a lot, her personality, her eyes and her hair. Although the face would be a mix of you two.

“Mommy, can I help you do breakfast today?” You nodded but before she could move you said “What about helping me prepare things for a picnic?” Her face lighted up you could see her excitement in her eyes. “Really??” she says out of excitement. As you two were going to the kitchen doyoung woke up. ''Good morning princess'' He went and hugged your daughter, but she just accepted the hug and suddenly became shy, ''Honey go to the kitchen first okay?'' You said to let you talk alone with Doyoung for a moment.

''Baby, don't you think she feels shy around you'' You said with a sweet voice but low so she couldn't hear the conversation, ''yea I thought I was the only one who noticed, Why would she feel like that? I am a bad father?'' He said those words feeling heartbroken, just the thought that his own daughter doesn't feel comfortable around his father was sad. You knew Doyoung works a lot and doesn't spend that much time around but it ain't his fault either, ''Doyoung, let's go out together today, and if your relationship improves, you know we gotta keep going'' He agreed so you both started by going to the kitchen to prepare breakfast with Aeyoung.

''Mommy, is daddy going too?'' You nodded but already expected that question, ''Let's start by preparing sandwiches'' Your hand made a gesture for Doyoung to come where you were, ''But first wash your hands'' As soon as Doyoung understood what were you trying to do he carried Aeyong towards the sink and helped her wash her hands, and before Doyoung left her down he said ''What do you have to say to daddy?'' Aeyoung smiled ''Thank you Daddy'' she said while giggling. You were relieved for a bit knowing that Aeyoung still values Doyoung as her father.

''What do you want in your sandwich princess?'' Doyoung asked Aeyoung, ''Ummm, I don't know, can you choose it for me daddy?'' Doyoung asked if she was sure and she nodded with a warm smile that was a mix of us. ''We finally finished our sandwiches'', yours was a classic chicken lettuce and tomato, Doyoung's one was imitation crab meat, boiled egg with mayo, and your daughter's one was a strawberry with cream sandwich because she liked sweet things like any other kid her age so your husband guessed right. She liked it a lot and since Doyoung knows how to cook very well it was even more delicious.

But there were still a lot of strawberries left and you had to use it all before it gets spoiled, luckily you all liked strawberries so it was easier to enjoy all that. The easiest idea was probably a strawberry smoothie, it was only mixing it in a blender with a few other bunch ingredients, ''Do you like strawberry smoothies honey?'' Aeyoung said out of excitement yes, she loved those. ''Are you sure we can eat all those strawberries today?'' Doyoung asked out of curiosity while blending the smoothie, ''I'm not that sure actually, but I'll think of a plan anyway'' The food waste here in Korea is no joke so you didn't want any problem with it. Finally done with the food you all changed clothes and ate breakfast with some leftovers, you started putting the food in the picnic bag, ''Baby, do you want to carry the bag or hold hands with Aeyoung'' You laughed knowing it was a trick question, of course, he wouldn't want you to carry the heavy bag but the plan of improving the relationship with Aeyoung was still on the action.

You saw Doyoung's doubtful face, ''Is a joke, I'll carry the bag don't worry'' and gave him a peck on his lips after he laughed back and complained knowing is also a joke like he always used to do since the day you meet him. You went to check on your daughter, ''Honey, let's go'' But before you could leave she hold your big hand compared to hers. ''Why daddy wasn't with us other days but today he did'' She asked half angrily but confused at the same time. ''Honey, the reason daddy isn't with us all the time isn't our fault nor yours. But when he's with us we have to enjoy it a lot, okay?'' You gave her a kiss on her forehead. Based on her facial expression it was as if she understood, Aeyoung was always a smart and understanding kid even if she was only 6 years old. ''Okay mommy, I'll try to give dad a fun time today'' She said and ran to Doyoung who was in the kitchen.

Doyoung was surprised at this but still kneeled and hugged her back. ''What happened honey'' ''Nothing is just that I missed you'' And Doyoung looked at you smiling which he answered with a flying kiss which you found cringe but laughed anways and made you flustered. ''Ready to go?'' Doyoung asked all of us and we nodded. After walking for about 20 minutes we arrived, the weather was excellent and there weren't too many people, ''perfect'' You said with a relieved feeling.

You and your husband prepared the blanket for you all to sit down and when it was done Aeyoung started taking out all the food. Sandwiches, strawberries, smoothies, and a strawberry shortcake you made beforehand, ''woaah, so many pink things, I like it'' Aeyoung giggled. ''Aeyoung, let's eat later and first play something okay?'' She nodded. You took out the guess-who game, but since it was for two people, Doyoung and Aeyoung teamed up.

You guys played 4 rounds, 3 rounds were Aeyoung and his father and in the other one, she teamed up with you, though she won all the rounds no matter who she was teamed up with. After playing some other games it was finally time to eat, and Aeyoung was very excited to do so. It wasn't her first time going out for a picnic but every time you guys went she acted like it was her very first time, she never gets tired of it.

You ate first the sandwiches you made on our own, but close after everyone finished eating them, you guys were kinda full but still had a lot of leftovers. While your husband and daughter were playing you were thinking about what you should do with it, then your brain sparkled. You could give it away to people. You told Doyoung and he agreed ''But, you and Aeyoung not me'' You winked at him which he answered by kissing you and it suprised you.

''Aeyoung, Do you want to give these leftovers to people?'' Doyoung said to his daughter ''Whyyy?'' Doyoung pressed his lips not knowing what to say and looked at you asking for help but you looked away ''So, we have to be good people and since we are full is good to offer it to others'' Aeyoung kinda understood it and kept nodding her head adn agreed.

They both held hands and Doyoung carried the leftovers, he wasn't an introvert but neither he was the most extrovert so he became a little bit shy at first. They found a young couple ''Excuse me, we have some strawberries would you like some?'' Doyoung said shyly but then Aeyoung repeated with enthusiasm ''Yes, would you like some'' The couple reacted happily and accepted it, ''Is she your daughter, she's so cute'' Doyoung blushed more than Aeyoung should but it made him happy anyways.

They kept doing this until there weren't strawberries left. They have successfully done it and made a high five when they returned, you were sleeping so your daughter woke you up. ''Mommy we don't have more strawberries'' she cheered while trying to wake you. After you woke up Aeyoung told you everything and then decided to wrap it up and go home. ''Did you like this picnic Aeyoung?'' Doyoung asked, She said yes feeling very happy more than she usually is and she even asked him to lift him up. Doyoung of course did it. And then headed home. Your mission was completed.

Thanks for supporting and sorry if the end is a bit lazy (It was done while watching the ISTJ showcase LMAO) Anyways stream ISTJ and would appreciate reblogging or following thanks ♡♡♡♡♡♡

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boygiwrites · 1 year ago

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Harley D. Dixon 17

An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note. I'm so sorry for not updating for so long!! 😣 Please enjoy!

Warning for mentions of suicide in this chapter.

"You promised me we were safe here."

Rick's raisin' his voice again. That's how I know things are bad.

"You promised me our children were safe here. Our son. Daryl's daughter. Where are these walkers comin' from?"

My Dad drags me up the porch steps, his boots going stomp, stomp, stomp against the planks as he beelines for the back door.

Dale hurries after us, hissing under his breath that we can't go confronting 'em on this, not right now, but my Dad don't listen to him.

"My girl almost got ate just now." He scolds Dale, before shoving past the rickety door. "These people gon' answer for it."

Another haven ruined. Seems everywhere we go, there's one more disaster waiting to sink its teeth into us, and here it is again. Thinking we're safe and knowing we ain't is a cycle I'm coming to live with. I'm not sure there's anywhere left in the world for me to feel safe, except maybe in my Dad's arms, but even those are bloodied. As we enter the house, the argument ricochets loudly from down the hall. There's Rick, standing next to Shane as he groans and grunts under the point of a suture needle, brows taut; knuckles white. Patricia and Jacqui, fussing over him with cotton pads and disinfectant. Herschel, frowning hard. And blood. Always, always blood.

"I am sorry," Herschel booms, "That this has happened, but as I've said from the very beginning, this is my property. My home."

There are aspects to this that I can't and won't discuss.

Aspects, meaning dead people in the barn. Dead, and rotten, and not-themselves people. I can't understand why they'd do such a thing.

"Daddy, why're they keepin' those people in the barn?" Nervously chewing on my thumb, I try to keep up with my Dad as he storms toward the crowded dining room, but his strides are real angry-like, and I can't hardly keep up. Keepin' dead people in a barn, li— like pets. "Why?"

"We're gonna find out."

"And these are my people." Rick's volume startles even Lori. "I'm responsible for their safety. I'm the one who trusted your word on this."

"What about your word, Rick? That your group would abide by my rules? There was almost a murder here tonight."

"I swear on everything, I had no intentions of that happenin'."

I hate shouting. Boy, do I hate, hate, hate shouting.

"Hey, Greene." As soon as we pass through the archway, my Dad interrupts everyone. "You got sum' you might wanna tell us 'boutcher barn?"

All heads snap in our direction.

"I think you've done enough for tonight, young man." Herschel warns. "All of you... have done more than enough."

But Rick wants to hear what he has to say. "Hang on. Whatchu sayin', Daryl?"

"You wanna know where all these walkers been comin' from, right?" He announces to the room, "Well, they're keeping 'em in the barn."

Shock runs through our group.

Lori exclaims, "What?"

Herschel's gaze falls to the floor, as if ashamed, or angry, or maybe even both. It's usually both.

"There's a break in the side panelling. We found it just now. They been sneakin' out; fallin' into wells," He gestures to me passionately, "And tearin' up kids. We're sleepin' next to a damn horror house and we ain't even realize it, 'cause these people ain't said a damn word about it."

"You were only supposed to be here a few days." Maggie gets defensive. "We don't owe you an explanation for anythin'."

He scoffs, "And what if Harley got bit just now? 'Cause'a your lil' walker friends? Would you owe me one then?"

Dale takes a step forward, hands placatingly held up in front of him. "Hey, now. I'm sure you've had your reasons for keeping this a secret, and I didn't want to say anything, but... truthfully, this is something that concerns us, whether this is our property or not. We have children with us."

"You're right, it's not your property." I can see Herschel's scowl even under all his moustache hair. "And it's not your decision, either."

Dad raises his brows. "To keep a bunch of feral animals near yer house?"

"They are not feral animals." Slam! His hand comes down on the table, making me jump. "My wife and stepson are in there. They are people!"

I've never seen Herschel this upset before. I didn't even know he could get upset.

"People?" Shane bares his blood-smeared teeth. "You think those crazy things out there are people?"

"A paranoid schizophrenic is crazy, but we don't shoot sick people." Herschel insists. "We help them. We rehabilitate them."

He shakes his head. "This ain't right. This ain't even remotely right."

There's a heavy pause.

I know walkers ain't sick, 'cause I seen 'em come back, again and again, with no heart, one lung, half a head, a missing leg, jaw, eye, spine.

I know that dead means dead.

But Herschel thinks he can treat them, like someone with a cold.

"With all due respect," Dale sighs, approaching this topic with caution. "You're cut off from the outside world here. If you watched the same broadcasts we did... If you saw the things we've seen—" Amy, dead. Morales, dead. Blood, and bullets, and a bite mark on a friend's arm, followed by a bang on a warm afternoon. Destruction, over and over. "—Your opinion would change. Those things out there, they kill."

"Hell, look what just happened." Shane butts in. "They almost tore into a little girl; would'a chewed her to the bone. That ain't sick, that's feral."

Patricia frowns, "Watch your tone."

"You're talking about this like your safety is at jeopardy, here, but you're free to leave at any time." Herschel raises his head, and I can tell just by the look on his face that he's an old dog that refuses to learn a new trick, and that makes me worry. "In fact, I think it's best you do."

Oh, no. He don't mean that, do he?

"We're not leaving." Rick suddenly intervenes, expression hard as stone. "That's not possible."

"You told me to reconsider. This is me doing exactly that." He purses his thin lips, and spits, "You are no longer welcome on my farm."

Oh. He does.

Dad's hand tightens around mine.

His words are like a hard punch to the guts for all of us.

"Everything that's happened tonight has only reminded me why I was so hesitant to let you stay in the first place. A knife was pulled; a man almost killed. It's clear your group has issues I don't want my family to suffer the consequences of. So you either all leave at first light, or you choose one of these two men to leave on their own, instead, and hope nothing like this happens again. Either way, I want a decision made right now."

An ultimatum. That's when people threaten each other but nobody can't do nothin' about it.

When I look at Rick, his mouth is open as if to speak, but there's nothin' he can say to justify tonight, so he shuts it with a stressed sigh.

Leave? Tomorrow? No, no, no. I don't want this. We need to stay. We need to find Sophia. I don't want to give up jam and eggs and soft, linen blankets, or the swing hanging from the old oak tree, or how it's so quiet out here that you can hear the sound of crickets chirping in the grass. If this were a couple months ago, Dad might've just volunteered to be the one to leave, but things have changed. These people are our people, now.

If I had to choose between everyone leaving, Dad and me leaving, and Shane leaving, I know who I'd pick.

I picked days ago.

"We can't all leave." Carol distresses, fiddling with her necklace. "We can't. My daughter is still out there."

"That's why we're gonna have to think about this." Rick explains, eyes locked with Shane. He's picked, too. "Something has to be done."

More glances thrown around; more worrying.

It's either Dad or Shane, then. It's always either Dad or Shane.

"We decide together on this." Dale assures everyone, glancing at Rick, who we all know will get final say. "This is a democracy, here."

I don't know what a duh-maw-crah-see is, but I do know that it won't save us from the terrible argument that's about to happen.

"You wanna kick anybody out, make it Daryl." Shane nods in our direction, nostrils flared angrily like a bull that's seeing red. "He's the one that pulled that knife on me, not even one day after gettin' back on his feet. We all saw it. He can't help himself. He's an animal, and a threat."

"I go, Harley goes wit' me." Dad retorts. "You wanna send a kid to her death just 'cause you ain't right in the head?"

He shrugs, "Maybe she'll just have to stay here, then."

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"That's out of the question." Rick shuts down the idea. "Harley and Daryl, they stay together. They're family. We need to think rationally about this."

"If 'rational' means throwin' me out instead'a Daryl, then I don't accept that."

Rick's frustration starts to show again. "It doesn't matter what you accept, Shane. This is what's best for the group. The greater good. They taught us that in training, day one. You know that. Save as many people as possible with as little casualties as possible. That's my rationality."

"That's all I am to you? A casualty?"

"If it's between kicking a father and his child to the curb, and you, after what you've done," Rick says, "Then I think you know the answer."

What you've done.

"This is nuts." He chuckles emptily. "I didn't do anythin'. I was attacked. I got two, four, six witnesses here that'll tell you the same thing."

Rick gives him a look similar to watching a baby bird try to fly with a broken wing, and says plainly, "I'm not talking about tonight, Shane."

He's talking about shooting Dad.

This is it. We're kicking Shane out. We're really doing it.

"You need to re-think this." Shane flat-out refuses. "'Cause I know for a fact, Rick, you ain't as dumb as all that. You wanna kick out your best friend of fifteen years, the man — the brother — who's stood by your side since the day we met, over this— this goddamn redneck piece o—"

"Watcher mouth!" Dad barks.

"Piece of shit?" He doubles down, a cornered, angry dog. "Him? Look at my shoulder and tell me that's a good idea! You tell me!"

"Look at his stomach!" Glenn retorts incredulously, his voice shrill as he points across the room at Dad. "You shot him!"

Lori startles, pulling Carl's head into her chest, covering his ears.

Shane roars, "And you think I did that for no reason, huh? Think I'm just some kinda psycho?"

Maggie chides, "Lower your voice!"

"We don't shoot one of our own!"

"For Christ's sake—"

I can tell in this next moment that everything is about to come apart. I wanna stop it, but I can't.

"He beats her, people!" There it is. Oh, God. Shane shoots up from his chair; grabs the edge of the table, shakes it a little, making the dishes rattle. Small gasps fill the room. Glances cut the air. I take a step back, a step behind my Dad, 'cause the only person I'm afraid of right now is Shane. "I saw it. Back at the CDC, night things went to Hell. Y'all wanna act like I'm the problem, do you? He's standin' right there! Right in front'a y'all!"

All I can think about as I watch the vein in Shane's neck pulse angrily is that I don't recognise this man at all.

"I shot him! And you know what? I say that with pride!" He tells everyone, unashamed, standing tall, outta his mind. "'Cause I did somethin'!"

What would happen if you told me the whole secret?

Something even worse would happen.

"I bet your brother was doin' the same thing, weren't he, Daryl?" Shane snides, before he scoffs. "Birds of a feather."

I watch in real time as the faces of our friends morph from shocked to confused to betrayed, until the whole room feels like an open bear trap.

Rick pins Dad with a— with a look. I ain't never seen a look like that. It's the strangest look in the world, like he wants to speak, but can't; won't.

Glenn stands there, his jaw slack; a kicked puppy dog.

I know Dad prolly wants to bolt. He prolly feels like he's been flayed open. It's none'a your business. I've heard that throughout my whole life, directed at concerned people at parks, teachers, neighbours, even Moms in the grocery store, whenever Merle would hit me for actin' up, or when Dad accidently chose a shirt for me that showed the bruise Grandpappy Dixon left there the night before. He prolly wants to deny it all once more, but he's stronger than that, now — stronger than Shane — so that's not what he does. Instead, he says, a little quietly, "That's not happenin', anymore. Things've changed. I've changed."

Shane finds that very funny. "Bullshit, you have. People like you Dixons never change."

People like you.

I never quite know what that means when people say that to us, but every time I hear it, I do know it's meant to hurt.

At least to Dad, I'm just me. That's all I wanna be.

He struggles to find anything to say to that, because deep down, I think he believes it. He will never be anythin' but a good for nothin' Dixon.

Just like Merle.

Just like my Grandpappy.

Just like every other piece of sorry trash that never made it out our trailer park. It took the apocalypse for us to make it out that place.

Carol braves the silence with her timid, shaking voice. "Is it true, Daryl?"

After a while, all he does is nod, 'cause what else is there?

She seems to crack at that, breaking down into little sobs that sound a hundred times louder than they really are. I think she's thinkin' of her husband. He was a little like Daddy. Sophia told me he was mean, sometimes, too, but back then I didn't know what that meant. Lori puts an arm around her shoulders, a deeply disappointed look on her face. Glenn has to sit down. Dale, he's revolted. And Rick, he just looks so, so tired.

Even though dinner was almost unbearable, and the food's gone stone cold by now, I still wish I was in that moment again.

"It wasn't Otis?" Patricia eventually utters. "He didn't shoot him?"

Oh, right. The dead man that took all the blame. I almost forgot about that.

Shane looks around the room, sees he's past the point of lying, and admits easily, "It was me." Then, he just can't help himself, 'cause he's always been that way, and he continues, "I shot Daryl, and I shot Otis, too." My stomach drops. What? He nods, feeling the way the confession sinks in like a drug. "That night at the college, I popped him in the kneecap, and I watched as the dead ones came down on him as I ran. He was holding the supplies. We brought those back, Daryl would'a had a good chance at survivin' surgery, and that wasn't an option for me. I see a threat, I eliminate it. That's the difference between me and y'all. I do what needs to be done and I don't feel a shred of guilt for it, neither, 'cause I did it for Harley. You wanna call me a murderer, that's fine with me. I know what I did. I know who I am."

He killed Otis? Watched him die? For what? For me?

I take in the appalled faces of the Greenes, like poor Maggie, eyes wide, and Herschel, being helped by Beth into his seat as he teeters lightheadedly, feeling like I somehow caused all of this. If I could go back in time, I wouldn't've said anythin' about Momma, and then I wouldn't have gotten beat, and Shane wouldn't've walked in on it or gotten mad or tried to be my friend, and Dad wouldn't be shot, and Otis would be alive.

But you can't go back in time, even if you really, really want to, because it just don't work like that.

Herschel slowly looks up at Shane, shaking with anger. "Rick, get this man off my farm at once."

It's Shane, then. That's the decision.

He tried to save me, but all he's done is doom a bunch of others, and doom himself.

He looks sidelong at his best friend of fifteen years, muttering uselessly, "Rick. You can't do this, brother."

But, yes, Rick can.

He tears his gaze away from Shane and gestures to Jacqui, ordering, "Finish sewin' him up, but nothin' more. He's gone tomorrow morning."

"Rick." He repeats desperately, brushing Jacqui off when she tries to make him sit down. "This is not the right choice."

"He gets his gun, with no bullets, and—"

"Rick."

"A small bag of provisions. That's it."

"Rick."

"He sleeps here tonight and takes his tent with him in the morning." He turns to his brother and spits, "I don't ever wanna see your face again."

I watch, my skin cold and tingling at the same time, as they stare at each other wordlessly, hostile but also hurt, knowing this is the end for them, and then I look up at my Dad. He watches on with an unreadable expression, even to me. My Dad's been found out, now, but Shane is also leaving. If this is what needed to happen for him to get kicked out, then I don't care. The greater good. Shane's leaving for the greater good.

"It doesn't have to be this way." Shane murmurs to Rick.

"I know that." He says. "But it's the way I want it."

I feel Dad stiffen as Shane turns his gaze on him.

"You don't deserve her." He chuckles defeatedly under his breath, squinting judgementally. "I'll always believe that."

Jacqui guides him back down again, and this time, he cooperates. As she pokes the needle under his skin, he looks directly at me.

If he could talk to me right now, I think he'd tell me somethin' like, I didn't want this. Because I know what he wants. He wanted Carl and Lori, and after that didn't work out, he wanted me. Only, it was impossible right from the start. My Dad would rather die than let him take me, and that's almost what happened. I look at him now and I still see the man who helped me catch that slippery frog on that sunny day, but I also see the blood. It's everywhere. His jaw, his neck, his chest, his arms, hands, thighs. Blood ruins everything. Only this time, it's his that got spilled.

He's leaving tomorrow.

I guess this is what duh-maw-crah-see means.

"We'll deal with you later." Rick utters to my Dad, before Herschel demands that everyone leave the house this instant.

This is exactly what I wanted, but for some reason, it don't feel as good as I thought it would.

Under the stars, again.

At least I'm in a change of clothes now, ones with no blood on them.

I rest in my Dad's lap in front of our crackling, burning fire, absentmindedly nibbling on my leftovers that Maggie packed into a tupperware container for me when we were forced out the house. She didn't give Dad any of his dinner, though. His plate of scrambled eggs got scraped into the trash right in front of him. He told me he didn't mind when I asked, I don't gotta give him any of mine. He ain't hungry, anyway. I believed him, and as I carried on eating, he cocked the pistol in his lap again, subtly scanning the dark skyline for any movement he ain't like the look of.

In the distance, the rest of our group starts putting out their fires and filing into their tents.

We got that barn to worry about, now.

I don't think any more walkers are gettin' out tonight, 'cause Rick and Glenn went over there about ten minutes ago and blocked the broken panel with some spare crates, but one thing my Dad's always been is prepared.

The barn's too far and too dark to see, but that somehow makes it worse. I imagine all those trapped, hungry bodies and quickly look away.

"Herschel thinks they're sick." I quietly recall, picking at my cold grilled cheese. "He wants to help 'em."

My wife and stepson are in there.

His wife and stepson are dead.

"Yeah, he does." Dad murmurs as a log in the fire crumbles. "But we know better, don't we?"

I nod. "Dead means dead."

"Dead means dead." He repeats. "So, don't go pokin' around there, again, a'right? You're smarter than that."

"I won't. S'just..."

He patiently waits for me to continue, but after I don't, he prompts, "What?"

Feeling a little silly, I admit, "I thought I saw Sophia."

He pauses at that. I stare into the grass, not wanting to meet his eyes, even as he reaches up to gently smooth out some of my fly-away hairs. Intently frowning up at me, he mutters, "Harley, I know you're worried, baby, but we're gonna find her. Girl like her can't'a gone far."

I mumble, "I guess I was just hopin' we was lucky."

"Luck don't exist." He reminds me. "Only strong people. And we're strong, ain't we?"

"Yeah." I agree, looking at him, now. "So, you think we're really gonna find her?"

He nods. "I think there's a good chance."

Content with that answer, I resume eating my food, but there's one thing I can't stop thinking about. "You think Shane's gonna die out there?"

His hand twitches around the gun. "Doesn't matter. Only thing that matters is he ain't gonna be around here, no more."

"I... I kinda hope he don't. Herschel says sick people can get better, and I think... I think Shane's like that, Dad. I think he's sick."

He frowns. "Why you think that?"

"He weren't always like this." I say, thinking back on times where he felt less like a stranger. "I'm still angry at him, but... I think I'm sad, too."

"You're allowed to feel that way." Dad reasons, holding back his own opinions, "Long as you know he deserves this, 'cause he does."

Rick and Glenn, even though they're angry with Dad right now, they were let in. My Dad accepted them, eventually, and now they get to look after me when he's busy with somethin' else, and help me out with things, kinda like my real Uncles used to do. The women, too. Lori and Jacqui and Carol, they lend me things and laugh with me like Aunties do. Shane could'a had that. But I know nothin' ever works out the way ya want it to.

I'm thinkin' about Momma again. It happens before I can even stop it. She was sick in the head, too. Kinda like Shane.

I think Dad can tell where my mind's wandered, 'cause he says to me, "Nobody can help him, Harley."

I just don't know.

Before I even realize it, my chin crumples and my lip starts wobbling. I hate thinkin' about things like this.

"C'mere." He frowns, pulling my head down under his chin. "You're too good for this bullshit. Too young. Just eatcher food, baby."

"I don't think I'm hungry anymore." I whimper, wiping my nose.

"I don't care." He picks up my grilled cheese and rips some small chunks off. "Three bites."

I hesitate. "How 'bout just one?"

"Two, then. Come on." He hands me a piece. I take it reluctantly and push it past my lips. "You don't got nothin' to worry about. That's my job."

I pretend that's true for a moment and just focus on biting and chewing and swallowing; how hard it is to mess up. As a twinkling bundle of green-yellow fireflies dance over the distant long-grass, looking like tiny stars in their own right, I hear Dad check the gun again. A heavy, metal click. Violence and peace, always there. It reminds me of a night we had in the very beginning of all this, where I was trying to go to sleep in the truck, but the sounds of the bombs hitting the city were overpowering the lullaby Dad was singing, and all I could do was force myself to get used to it.

Adapt or die. Merle said that, once.

I hate Shane. I really do. He shot my Dad. He tricked me. But he don't see it that way. Sick people never do.

After both pieces are gone, my Dad takes me to bed. He sits on the tent floor and tucks me in with a few blankets and also Matilda, and then lays down next to me to read me to sleep. I close my eyes and try to forget about everything except the sound of his quiet, raspy voice.

Even after I drift off to sleep, I still hear him checking the gun all night.

The swing. It teeters in the warm night breeze.

I don't know why I'm out here. It's late. My Dad would never let me leave camp at this hour, especially not alone. Maybe I needed to pee. I can't remember, but this is what's happening, now, I guess, so I don't try to turn back. I'm walking to the swing. Again, I don't know why. There's this feeling of confusion deep in the pits of my furthest parts that I can't quite place, but I just keep on padding through the grass, toward the tree.

Fireflies follow after me, but there's something about them that's not right. I think they're too big, but I just can't be sure.

Maybe Carl's out here. He wants to play, or something. I round the thick trunk, expecting him to be standing there, but the body I run into isn't his. It's larger, taller, and not touching the ground. I step back, dwarfed by the sheer size of the person, until I the whole picture becomes clear.

It's Shane, hanging from the tree like a boneless dummy, his neck snapped the wrong way in a knotty coil of rope.

I can't scream. I can't. There's something caught in my throat; something big, like a peach pit.

Shane's eyes snap open as I stumble onto my back, as if he doesn't know he's supposed to be dead. He looks sad, but not panicked, not like I am, and he calmly tells me, an unbothered pout on his lips, "I didn't mean it, Harley. Your Daddy, he's wrong. I'm not crazy. I swear it."

In my head, I'm screaming, but I know nobody can hear me.

That's my Momma's voice.

That's what she said to me the last time I ever saw her, in the family-court parking lot while it rained.

"I love you, Harley." Shane — but also my Momma — says. "I love you so much it's gonna kill me."

Suddenly, my Dad's gun is in his hand — W-When did that happen? — And he checks it, click, before levelling it with his temple, and—

Bang.

The gun drops into the grass.

I wake up screaming.

My sleeping bag is so tight and hot around me that my first instinct is to kick and thrash it off, a cold sweat prickled all the way down by spine. I hear the tent unzipping, and then the white, blinding sunlight comes flooding in, and my Dad is moving the blankets off me and shushing me and holding my wet face in his big hands. Momma's words echo around my skull, and so does the image of Shane's pale mouth speaking them.

"Baby. Hey, look at me." Dad orders, his concerned face blurred by my tears. "It's okay. You're okay. Look at me, Harley."

I blubber miserably, "It was Sh— Sha— Sh—"

"No. C'mon, breathe." He takes a deep, calming breath, and I find myself copying him. "There you go... and out. Again."

We do this five more times until my heartbeat slows, and I adjust to the sounds of the small birds in the trees, and the quiet of the farm.

"It was just a bad dream." Dad reassures me, using the bottom of my shirt to dry off my cheeks. "You're fine."

"I was so scared." I tell him. "Thought it was real."

Last time I had a nightmare that bad was the night I got scratched. I'd forgotten how they make your skin feel like cold rubber, and your ears ring.

"Now you know it weren't. S'just yer brain makin' stuff up." He wipes the last of my tears away. "You wanna talk about it, or forget about it?"

Shuddering, I quickly mutter, "Forget."

"Okay, then. I got breakfast cookin' out there, anyway. Rick's here, too."

Rick walked all the way over here this early in the morning?

"What? Why?"

"He just wanted to talk." Dad says, helping me stand. He gestures to my backpack before ducking out the door. "Get dressed."

Shaking off the nightmare as best I can, I dress myself in a yellow long-sleeve shirt, a white tank-top, and dirty, scuffed blue jeans before pulling on my socks and boots, grabbing Matilda, and stepping outside into the cool breeze. First thing I spot is Rick, of course, 'cause he's in me and my Daddy's camp, sitting on the log we use to chop wood. Then I smell food sizzling over the fire, and I'm enticed forward by the yummy smell.

"Mornin', Harley." Rick greets, a pair of purple-ish bags under his eyes. He chooses not to mention my nightmare, 'cause he's nice like that.

"Mornin'." I parrot, somewhat cautiously. I still can't tell if he hates us or not. Sure seemed like he did, last night.

"Here, baby." Dad scrapes the browned meat and mushrooms into a mug for me and hands me a fork. "Caught it just before. Go sit down."

I do as he says, taking up my small, green camping chair. I bring my knees up in front of me and watch Rick accept a mug and fork of his own.

"Thanks." He nods. "Smells good."

Dad grunts in reply, standing and sitting back in his chair, not looking up from his fork. I think he's nervous.

I'm nervous, too. This feels like a meeting with the principle after you done somethin' wrong.

We spend a short while just sitting there together, eating quietly, until Rick sets his mug down in his lap and decides to speak up. "Shane's packing his things." He says, trying his best not to sound too dispirited. "He'll be gone within the hour. Me and T-Dog are drivin' him into town and leavin' him there. Whether he goes without a fuss, I don't know. I'm hopin' so. It's the least he can do, after... after everything."

"You gonna miss him?" I wonder, knowin' that no matter how much he shouted last night, that's still his brother he's losing today.

"I don't know." He attempts a smile, but it falls flat. "My old memories of him, maybe, but I'll always have those."

"I bet Carl and Lori are sad he's goin'."

"They'll get over it. We all will." Rick says. "Always do."

It's true. Whatever new horror gets thrown at us, we always get over it, 'cause we gotta. Can't live, otherwise.

My gaze wonders over to the barn again, sitting tiny and brown on the other side of the farm. I know now that there's more to it than just wood and paint. It's still so strange to think of all those people in there, just shuffling, and groaning, and waiting. They're dead, but somethin' about it all makes me feel sorry for 'em. At least when we run into walkers, we put 'em out their misery. These ones are made to suffer longer, and for what?

Over by the oak tree where Otis's empty grave lays, I can make out a couple of the Greenes dragging long, white bundles into deep holes. A funeral. For them ones that got killed last night, I reckon. An awful feeling nestles into my stomach. Some reason, feels like I'm a murderer.

Rick notices what I'm staring at. "I talked to them this morning. They don't blame you, Harley."

I got nothin' to say to that. It still don't make it right.

He sighs at my silence, sensing it's better to just address the elephant in the room. "Daryl, you know why I'm here."

I tense, 'cause I don't know why he's here. Could be he's decided to throw us out, too.

Dad finally meets his eyes.

"What Shane said last night was... unexpected, to say the least." He clears his throat. "I want you to know I don't take things like this lightly."

He nods, accepting the admonishment. "You're a father, too. I get that."

"And man to man, I need you to tell me something." His frown deepens as he says gravely, "You said you've changed. Is that true?"

People like you Dixons never change.

It takes everything in him to answer, but he manages. "I want like Hell to."

"How can I trust you on that?"

"Only good thing my ol' man ever taught me was to be a man of my word. Taught me everything that don't make a man. Taught me who I don't wanna be. I lost sight'a that for a while... I ain't proud of it, neither. But that's how it is." He looks at me when he mutters, "And I'm sorry."

Hearing those words from him feels like a bandage on a wound I ain't even know was there.

"Took gettin' shot by a maniac to realize it, but... For what all this bullshit's been worth, at least there's that."

Rick needles, "You know I could've thrown you out last night, don't you?"

Dad nods. He knows.

After considering all this, and seeming to more or less approve of it, Rick warns, "I better not hear of this happening again."

"You won't."

Something in Dad's tone must convince him, 'cause he eventually decides with a nod, "Alright, then."

Weird, how this whole journey just boils down to Rick sayin' those two simple words. Alright, then. The type of acceptance only families give out.

"Word of advice, though. You might wanna share all this with the others. Folk'll wanna hear it, Carol especially. For peace of mind."

That's a fair deal. "Yeah. I can do that."

"I'll let you sort that out in your own time, then." He says, setting his mug down as he stands from the stump. Dad follows suit, so I do, too, and in a strangely wholesome moment I wouldn't've even bothered picturing in my wildest dreams a year ago, he reaches out to shake his hand. Rick, the cop's, hand. He takes it firmly, and they do that thing again where they talk without speaking. Pulling back, Rick nods, "Thanks for breakfast."

"No problem." Dad grunts, wiping his palms on his muddy jeans. "Nigh time you tried some good squirrel."

"Yeah, well now I know where to go if I've ever got the hankerin'." He jokes easily. "You both enjoy your morning. I'll see ya later, once we get back."

"You don't need a second pair'a hands, do ya?"

"No. No, I reckon it's best you don't even breathe in Shane's direction today. He's... Well, there's gonna be an element of jealousy, there."

I guess, "'Cause we get to stay, and he don't?"

"Exactly." He smiles at me, before giving Dad a glance. "Among other things."

Dad just gives a look of grim understanding.

For how different they are, at least they got that one, weird thing in common. A man named Shane Walsh tried to steal their kid away from 'em.

With that, Rick gives Dad a smack on the shoulder, ruffles my hair a little more gently, and then turns back in the direction of the farm.

When he's a good distance away, Dad grabs his flannel off the back of his chair and throws it on.

"Come on." He nods me over. "I wanna show you somethin'."

Leaves crunching underfoot, Dad makes his way through the forest, crossbow slung over one shoulder, me slung over his back.

As he steps over a fallen log, he hums, "What about Hemlock?"

"Poisonous."

"Foxglove?"

Another easy one. "Poisonous."

"Buckthorn?"

Dang it, I always forget that one. They look so similar to blueberries that my mind always goes to, "Edible?"

He shakes his head, amused. "Yeah, right. Buckthorn'll make ya heart give out."

"Guess I got that one, wrong, then." I pout, annoyed at myself.

"Got all the others right, though."

We've been playing this game for about ten minutes, now, and he still ain't given me one clue as to where we're goin'.

"I got another one for ya." He suggests, hiking me up further when my knees dip past his waist. "Cherokee rose. What do they mean?"

I grip on tighter around his neck, humming. "Uh... Somethin' about Native American people, durin' the war?"

He encourages, "Yeah, you got it."

"They say when the missin' children's Mommas cried, the tears made 'em grow." I recall the tale he told me, once. "Meant good luck. Right?"

"Yeah, that's right." He praises me. "Made 'em feel less like the world was against 'em all the time. Gave 'em hope."

I smile to myself. "I like that story."

"Me, too."

"You wanna tell me where we're goin', now?"

"Don't gotta." I perk up as he comes to a stop, helping me slide onto the ground with a grunt. "This is it."

We're here?

A grin splits my face at the sight of it all. A big, shimmering lake, wreathed in grass, flowers, reeds; ducks gliding along the glassy surface, enjoying the sun. I follow him down the hill and onto the old wooden dock, where the tiniest teardrop shaped fish dart around underneath.

Crouching down at the end of the dock, I giggle as I spot a big knot of green frogs sleeping on the protruding rock in the middle of the water.

"It's so pretty." I exclaim, sitting back with a smile. Dad takes a seat next to me on the sun-warmed planks. "How'd you know this was here?"

"Passed it when I went hunting this morning."

"Kinda looks like the lake that was near our house." I muse happily to myself. "Even got the same smell. Pollen and dirt."

I don't quite catch it, but Dad smiles fondly at me. "Yeah, I thought you'd like it."

"Why'd we come here?"

"Sh. Just enjoy it."

The sounds of quacking; the gentle ripples bobbing out from around the line of ducks. It's enough to make me wanna stay here forever. I love the privilege of doin' nothin'. There's nobody out here except us and the earth. "Remember when Hunter pushed me in at Aunt Mandy's birthday?"

Dad and Uncle Kyle had to jump in and save me, 'cause I couldn't swim, but at least it was funny, after.

"Always was a little shit, weren't he, that boy." Dad scoffs, shaking his head. "Be thankful you're stayin' dry, this time. Least you can swim, now."

"Huh?" I giggle, confused. He don't seem to get what I mean, so I tell him, like it's obvious, "Daddy, I can't swim."

He gives me a baffled look. "Yeah, ya can. Merle told me he taught ya."

"Nuh-uh. He was meant to, while you was gone, but he never did. I think he ended up goin' to the bar, that day. After that, I guess he forgot."

Sometimes I feel like there's an invisible Merle Fuck Up list, and it keeps gettin' longer every day, even when he ain't even alive to add to it, no more. Like the time he told me to wait outside the liquor store and told me if I was a good girl, I'd get a sucker, but I wound up sittin' there on the curb until after nightfall, 'cause he forgot he left me there. The time he accidently fed me super spicy takeaway. The time he didn't feed me, at all.

Reminded of all those famous Merle Fuck Ups, my Dad rolls his eyes, officially fed up with his dead older brother. "Damned idiot."

"Makes ya feel any better, he made sure I could hold my breath good, at least. Held my head under the bathtub 'till I went purple."

He glances at me, distraught. "No, it don't make me feel better. Hell he do that for?"

I shrug. "In case Hunter ever pushed me in again."

"Trust me, that would'a been the least of his problems."

I drop my gaze, then, absentmindedly picking at the chipped wood. "He did lots of stuff like that while you was gone."

The years my Dad was in prison were the worst years of my life. I've always felt that way, but now I can pin-point why. It was Merle. I guess I was just lucky that by that time, Grandpappy Dixon had already left the state, otherwise I would'a gotten it twice as bad. When Dad was home, he could rip Merle's door off its hinges, break his phone, or his bong, or make him sleep outside on the patio, and he'd lay offa me for a little while. A whole day, if I was lucky. But I was on my own for those four years. Sure, our neighbour Patty would check up on me once every couple weeks, 'cause I think she always felt a little sorry for me, but for the most part, I was alone with a monster in my house. I realize that, now.

People like you Dixons never change. I know Merle didn't. Right up until the day he died, he was the eldest, toughest, meanest Dixon.

Things would be a lot different if he was still around. Worse, probably.

"Never gonna say I regret killin' that piece'a shit, Fletcher, but," He sighs, staring out onto the water. "I'on know. I should'a been there."

I used to wish every day that the police would change their minds and send my Daddy home. Of course, that never happened.

"It ain't your fault." I tell him.

"Nah, I could'a done better, chicken." He mumbles, before clearing his throat. "You know, I brought you out here to tell you somethin'."

"You did?"

"What I said this mornin', I meant it. I wanna change. I wanna be... I wanna be someone better than just a shitty Dixon. I wanna be a good Dad. I see Rick with Carl, and I just think about how the only person who ever taught me how to do this shit was your Uncle Merle, and before that, our Dad. Sometimes, I think I should'a just shot him, that night. I ask myself why the Hell I ever let my own brother lay his hands on my kid, and I... I just got nothin'." He takes a deep breath to steady himself. "Anyway, my point is that I'm tryin'. And I'm gonna... I'm gonna start with this."

I watch in anticipation as he shuffles, reaching back into his pocket, and settles back down again. In his hands, is his—?

"Your wallet?" I frown, at a loss for words. "Didn't it—?"

Didn't it burn up with everything else we left in he CDC?

"I kept it in the glovebox." He explains, flipping it open. There's the picture of me as a newborn, again, tucked behind the plastic sleeve. "I was gonna give it to you while we were on the road, but things got crazy after that, and I guess I put it on the back burner for a while."

"Why were you gonna give it to me?"

He gently caresses his thumb over my photo-self, before forcing himself to hold the wallet out to me. "S'yours, now. Look at the last photo."

I take it, a little sceptical, and lay it in my lap, gazing down at the first photo — Dad, holding me at the hospital right after I was born. I've seen this before. I look up at him. He gives me a nod, as if to say, go on, so I trust him, and I flip over to the next one. I've seen this one, too. Me, Dad, and some of his old friends, visiting the elephants at the Atlanta Zoo. They had really good ice cream there. I remember eating so much of the strawberry flavour that my chin was pink for days. Then the third one. School photo. Not as interesting as the rest, but still nice.

"Keep goin'." He tells me. "I never showed the last one to you. I wasn't ready. Still ain't, but... Just look."

"Dad, you're bein' weird." I laugh, feeling lost.

He encourages me, "Turn the damn page, girl."

"Okay, okay."

I do as he says, expecting another family photo.

My heart jumps up into my throat.

"Momma?"

It's really her. I bring the photo closer to my face, as if it's made of ash and'll blow away at any moment. There she is. My Momma. Tears fill my eyes all at once, and I gotta smack 'em away to see her properly. She's close to the camera, grinning up at the person holding it. A cigarette in her slim fingers, nail polish cracked and messy. She's sitting on a park swing, I think, bare shoulders lightly sunburnt. She's... She's happy.

"I took that the day she agreed to be my girlfriend." Dad says quietly, not looking at the photo, but at me. "Thought you might wanna have it."

I never knew a picture like this could exist of her. A picture this happy, this carefree.

'Cause I meant it when I said my Daddy killed my Momma.

It was a week after that day in the court parking lot, and a month after Momma's final meltdown. It was around the time my Dad stopped letting me see her as often as I used to. I'd begged him, please, please, please can we just see her for one hour, Daddy, please. We even stopped at a gas station on the way to buy her her favourite candy bar. Snickers, two dollars and ninety-nine cents. I'll always remember that. The man at the counter was so nice to us. I wore my best summer dress and sang songs on the car ride there. It was gonna be the best day, ever.

But when we got there, she was talking about the spiders again, the ones in her brain. She said she didn't know who I was, and that if Dad didn't get me out her house right then, she was gonna kill me for confusing her. I promised her I wasn't, not on purpose. It was me. Harley.

But as usual, she didn't listen, and as usual, Dad was right. We shouldn't've gone to visit.

I threw the candy bar in the bin when we got home.

After that, they went to court and something happened that meant I was never allowed to see her again. He wanted full custody, and he got it.

I love you, Harley, She cried to me outside the courthouse. That was one of the days she remembered me. I love you so much it's gonna kill me.

Meemaw said Momma was going away for a while, somewhere confused people go, but all she did was leap off a bridge at midnight a week later.

I had no Momma, after that.

Heart hammering in my chest, I look up at my Dad, then, hiccupping, "Why'd you keep this?"

As the sun catches the wetness in his eyes, he admits, "Because I loved her, baby."

"But you— you never wanted to see her." I frown. "You took me away from her."

"I know I did." He says. "I loved you more. I couldn't let you see her like that. It weren't good for you."

I hold the wallet close to my chest, spitting at him, "But at least, then she would'a still been alive."

"It's not as simple as that." He almost begs me to understand, "Your Momma was a beautiful woman, but she was sick, baby. Me an' your Meemaw did everything we could for her, but sometimes, there's people who just don't want your help. It was never gonna end well, Harley."

The sobs wrack my body harder at that, 'cause I wish it could've. I wish it could've ended well for us.

"And I'm sorry it didn't. I never told you that, but I should've."

I collapse into him, then, and he scoops me up into his arms as easily as he's always done, and we just sit there at the end of the dock, and we mourn together. It feels like letting out a flood I'd been holding in for years. Dad's never liked talking about Momma, not even when she was alive. I used to roll around on the living room floor, screaming on the top of my lungs, where's my Momma, where's Momma, and without saying a single word the whole time, he'd pick me up by my armpits, force-feed me dinner, bathe me, dress me, and shut me in my room for the night.

But sometimes, like that night at the CDC, I'd just get beat, instead.

Now, he's cradling me. He's shushing me, rocking me, crying with me, and that's enough for me to know that Dixons really can change.

"I miss her." I moan into his neck. "I miss her so much, all the time."

I miss her when I look at Lori, and I miss her when I go to sleep, and I miss her when all I want in the world is to hug my Momma one last time.

"I know you do, baby." What I would'a gave to hear him say that every day until forever. "I know. That's alright. I miss her, too."

I miss her so much it's chronic, but knowin' my Dad feels that way, too, makes the pain a little more bearable.

After what feels like the longest hug in the world, I'm finally ready to pull back. He takes in my raw, blotchy face, and uses the sleeve of his flannel to wipe away all my tears as I gaze out at the lake, trying to catch my breath. Once I feel like I ain't dyin' anymore, I turn to face him again.

"Thanks, Dad." I sniffle. "I'm gonna take real good care'a the wallet. Of Momma."

He smiles, for some reason looking like he's really proud of me in this moment. "I know ya will."

"I love you."

"I love you, too, my darlin' girl. So, so much."

Feeling just how sore my face is from crying, I grump, "I feel like my face is gonna fall off."

He chuckles at that. "You wanna wash off in the lake? Go for a lil' swim?"

"I can't." Did he forget what I said about not bein' able to swim? Or is he jokin'? "And we're wearing clothes!"

"Don't tell me you're scared, little chicken."

"Wh—?! No! I ain't scared!"

He starts making little chicken noises, which is even more annoying.

"Dad!" I'm gigglin', now. I give him a hard shove on the chest. "Stop!"

"Come on. I'll teach ya."

That's all he says before he scoots forward onto the edge of the dock, and much to my complete and total horror, jumps right in. Splash! The fish all scurry away under the ripples in all different directions, as he wades further out, ignoring me when I laugh uncontrollably to him that his clothes are all soaked, now. He don't care. The water's nice, apparently. He opens his arms out for me and says I should jump. I almost hesitate, but then I think to myself, Who cares if my clothes get wet, and soon enough, I'm doing my first ever cannonball into a lake in the middle of nowhere.

Even when it feels like every corner is made up of misery, there's always one little place in the world that's still filled with goodness.

On the bank of the lake is a bush of Cherokee roses. White, like angels.

Author's Note.

Guys, I write sooo slowly. I could sit at my laptop for an hour and have one paragraph to show for it. It's a curse.

Please enjoy this wholesome ( ? ) chapter. Daryl and Harley FINALLY talk about her Mom. I'm so happy that I got to write that scene. It's been a long time coming. He really wants to be the best he can for Harley, and that was the first step in doing that.

What do you think, has he changed? Or was Shane right?

In my opinion, I don't think he was ever the villain that Shane thinks he was. At heart, Daryl's always known that the way he's been treating Harley is wrong. He was doing what he's been taught to do, which is the simplest thing anyone CAN do, which is cover up everything with anger. I think this is him discovering who he's truly been the whole time. Of course, it's totally up to interpretation.

I hope you enjoyed reading! Again, sorry for the wait. Sending love :)

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