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haruhey · 3 years

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Mind If I Join You?

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Word count: 13k (i am SO SORRY i got carried away and this fic turned out SO FILTHY but i hit 300 followers so consider this a gift??)

Established Relationship Fluff | Smut

There’s only one bed shower, and Daryl Dixon is an opportunist.

the request:

every single fic of yours is seriously amazing. ur a great writer!! can i request a daryl shower smut bc wooweeeee

There’s always a giddiness inside Daryl when he returns from runs. No more sleeping in the RV for nights on end, no more eating cold canned chicken soup and - as much as he liked Aaron - no more hearing him talk about how much he missed Eric and making him miss you, too. He’s exhausted, his muscles sore from overuse, but the fact that you’re probably curled up in bed makes him so damn excited that all the ailments of his aging body are swiftly forgotten with each step he takes.

Houses fly by in a blur as he ramps up into a jog, his feet taking him to the dim light of a moving lantern in your shared bedroom window. By Daryl’s estimate, it couldn’t have been more than 10 or 11pm, but time meant little in the apocalypse - it was either dark out, or light and with the days getting shorter, he noticed you using the lantern more and more frequently. Just a few days ago, you had fallen asleep curled up on his chest, the soft orange light filling the room before he strained his body trying to turn it off without waking you. The next morning he had a terrible cramp running from his rib up to his bicep, but he never complained. Not even a wince in your presence since he thought the soreness was worth it. He would rather die several times over than lose the image he saw - of your pillowy lips taking soft, steady breaths of air while you slept against his bare skin.

Smiling, he lets himself remember the way you looked when he first gifted it to you, a grin that spread to the apples of your cheeks and crinkled at your eyes plastered on your face. It wasn’t a perfect replica, but it looked close enough to the one you would both light on nightwatches in the prison - which he thinks was when he first realized he loved you. Daryl also remembers the first night he saw you use it, the memory so vivid in his mind that he felt like if he reached out, the soft fabric of your pajamas would welcome his touch.

He could picture it now, your back against the headboard, reading one of the books that littered the shelves he never touches. Your face bathed in the lantern’s hue while your eyes scanned the pages and drinking in every word of whatever you were holding. He plucked that book right out of your hands that night and pulled you onto his lap, kissing the pout off your face until you weren’t annoyed at him anymore, rendered down to just laughing against his lips.

Fuck, he couldn’t wait to get home and see you again.

Daryl curses under his breath as he fumbles a little with the doorknob, but the profanities are quickly replaced with a huff of accomplishment as he practically sprints to the bedroom, boots shucked off haphazardly at the front door. He skips every other stair with long strides, desperate to feel you in his arms. When he enters the bedroom, he places his crossbow on the dresser and is surprised to see the room as dark as it is, the only source of illumination being the moon as it streams through the windows. The bed is empty and the blankets are strewn to your side, but neither you nor your pajamas are anywhere in sight. Panic flies through him before he registers the unmistakable sounds of the shower running, and he scoffs at himself when he sees the dim orange light peeking from beneath the bathroom door.

Had you known how worried he was for a second, you would have laughed at him. He was already so protective of you before the two of you got together, but it was another level entirely when you both made it official. It wasn’t just losing you to the dead anymore - it was also losing you to other people. Daryl knew you could take care of yourself, he had seen you hold your own on runs in the prison and trips outside the Alexandrian gates, but, God, if anything happened to you he wouldn’t know what to do. Being apart from you once when the Governor attacked was already almost too much for him to handle, but the thought of losing you and having to be okay with the fact you were never going to love him again? That was something he never wanted to experience.

Leaning against the wall, he pulls off his belt and places it next to his crossbow, his vest following not long after. The mattress squeaks slightly when he makes his way over to it and lies down, his body feeling almost instant comfort at the feeling of something other than the hard leather of his bike’s seat. Days like this made him think that maybe you were right in jokingly telling him that his motorcycle was a dumb choice for long runs - his tailbone was probably shaped like a rectangle from how long he’d been sitting on his ass.

A few moments pass as he allows himself to indulge in some rest, eyes closing and already in the first stages of a slumber before he shoots up, pushing himself to the edge of the mattress and sitting straight. Fuck, he needed to shower. He had given you his word that he would. Each time before he fell asleep after a run, he’d said; and Daryl Dixon was not one to break promises. Especially not to you.

Getting off the bed, he sheds his shirt and throws the old fabric onto the dresser, grimacing at the knowledge he would have to scrub at the dried walker blood come morning. His socks are next, pulled off by impatient hands and left on the floor, not even given a second glance as he then pulls open a drawer and grabs a pair of boxers from his meager pile. The only thought in his mind being the feeling of smooth sheets and your body against his skin. He’d pick up his clothes after his shower - if he could even muster up enough energy to.

Step by step, he makes it a good few feet out of the bedroom before he realizes the other second floor bathroom doesn’t work. If his memory served him correct, there were some plumbing issues and, before anyone could buy replacements, the world became, well, what it is now. After all, it was the only reason you and Daryl even took this house - nobody else wanted to have only one shower and, after becoming a couple, sharing one between two people didn’t seem all that bad. At least, that’s what he thought until now. Groaning, he rubs his eyes in an attempt to rub out the fatigue in them before his whole body lights up with an idea. Maybe he could have some fun with this. And if you asked, he could always blame the missing pipe or whatever it was that the Alexandrians couldn’t fix.

Practically thrilled, he mentally pats himself on the back and rushes back to the bedroom. Tired? Not anymore. Daryl can’t be if he wants to fulfill what just popped into his mind. Years of hunting leave his footsteps nearly silent when he enters the bathroom, but he’s not exactly at a disadvantage in terms of noise. The rhythmic beating of water against the tiled floor drowns out the slight squeak of the door as well as the hitching of his breath when he notices the gap. With how the room was designed, just standing at the door led his gaze in a nearly direct line of sight to you, the shower curtain lying an inch or two from the wall and offering him a vision which he doesn’t hesitate to indulge in.

It’s not like he's never seen your body - far from it, actually - but there was something about you that made him hesitate when it came to stuff like this. You deserved sweet and soft, affectionate with declarations of love between his kisses, and while he enjoyed giving that to you, sometimes he wanted something different. Sometimes Daryl wanted to act on impulse - to feel a different type of desperation - and tonight, he wanted to act out one of his long-hidden fantasies. One that involved you on many, many occasions.

Truthfully, he couldn’t fucking stop thinking about it since Merle and his buddies showed him that damn VHS as a hormonal high schooler. He never really had a committed girlfriend or anything like that to ever even pluck up the courage to ask, but that fantasy remained like a phantom in the back of his mind, lying just outside his finger’s reach. One that haunts him late at night and renders him withering in his own palm. At least, that was the case. Because he has you now and how he managed that? He didn't know. But he felt confident enough around you and trusted you enough to pursue the desire in him.

A shiver courses through him, running along the tip of his spine when he considers the possibility you might like it as much as him - and if you did, maybe he would divulge to you more of these secrets he’s always kept hidden so well.

With silent movements, Daryl unbuttons and unzips his jeans as he leans against the door of the bathroom, just barely suppressing a groan when his fingers graze the zipper. He curses himself, chastising his sensitivity at the mere image of you doing something as mundane as taking a shower, but he knew it was an inevitable consequence. Ever since the prison, anything you did got him riled up - even just seeing you sitting on his motorcycle made his skin light up with goosebumps. Left in only his boxers, he steps out of the denim pooling at his feet and picks it up, throwing it haphazardly onto the cream coloured counter as he waits for you to take notice of his presence. The metal button clashes against the smooth marble of the vanity, and its noises sound across the room, your eyes opening and your fingers catching the edge of the plastic curtain as you dart your head out, searching for the source.

Your body tenses up, no doubt the experience of living out on the road for so long, but the fighting instinct drains from you the moment you see the affectionate boyish grin playing on Daryl’s lips. It’s barely visible as he stands so far from the meager light source, but it sends an eager smile onto your face. Like all those times he’s returned to you, you want to run to him, feel his arms wrap around you and inhale his scent as you plant those incessant kisses he ‘hated’ everywhere on his face, but that urge only serves to remind you that you’re standing naked in a shower and he’s just staring at you.

“Daryl! What the- I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”

Embarrassed, you speak, voice pitched higher than normal from the shock and excitement coursing through your body. However, he stays put, leaning against the door as he drags his eyes up the expanses of skin afforded to him; that is, until you pull the plastic curtain to cover yourself and run your free hand through your hair, tilting your head ever so slightly in order to urge his eyes to meet yours. You wait for his response as you brush the wet strands back from your face, but it never comes, him instead choosing to stride towards you and send you a pout before pulling petulantly at the shower curtain, trying to coax you to let go of it. Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, your grip loosens and he can barely hold back his excitement when you really do let go, tongue peeking out for just a second before he hooks his lip between his teeth.

Throughout your relationship with Daryl, you learned he loved looking at you, gawking at and admiring each angle, birthmark and curve until you felt heat flush through your body. Even before the two of you got together, his gaze stuck on you, longing and soft when you weren’t looking, only hardening if your eyes ever met his. Each time he saw you it was like he was still in disbelief that you were his, forever suspended in the wide look he had when you first confessed to him, hence why you didn’t pay much attention to his stare as you moved to pump out some shampoo. You didn’t really know why he was in the bathroom and he made no effort to tell you, but you were here to clean yourself. So that’s what you’ll do. He’ll probably leave sooner or later after making sure you weren’t hurt anywhere, anyways.

The way the light from the lantern bounced off your glistening skin made you look like some sort of goddess. Like an otherworldly being he shouldn’t be looking at. Or like a succubus, sinfully tantalizing, except you didn’t know what you were doing to him as you raked your hands through your hair again, bubbles forming already between your fingers as you scrubbed. Shit, this was way better than he expected, and he’s gladly taking in everything it was offering. Shifting his weight, he clenches and unclenches his fists - commanding himself to keep them at his sides - but then you turn around, allowing the water to rush down your back and his resolve withers away as he tries not to envy the path along which it’s falling.

Soon, the little space between the shower curtain and the ceramic tiling isn’t enough for him. He needs to feel you against him, his trembling hands and suffocating boxers egging him on like this was the first time he’s ever seen you naked. Clearing his throat, he urges himself to move, building his confidence which had seemed to dissipate nearly immediately as you locked eyes with him. What he wanted to do wasn’t sweet or affectionate, and even though he knew you would tell him if you didn’t like it, he just didn’t really want to risk even doing something you didn’t like in the first place.

“Sorry I, uh, I’ll go rinse out my hair somewhere else. Here, I’ll get out so you can-”

This was it. He had to act now or he’ll lose the opportunity. Running his thumb across his bottom lip, he watches as your hand reaches for the shower valve, but your movements and voice stop when Daryl shoots his dominant hand out, the calloused skin wrapping around your wrist in a warmth that makes you snap your gaze to his. While firm, he never applies enough force to hurt you - he knows what kind of men there were in this world, and he didn’t know what he would do if you ever thought of him like that. On the contrary, the feeling of his fingers around you is welcome, especially after what felt like years away from him. Giving him that same inquisitive look, except this time laced with a small smile, you can tell by the way he’s gnawing at his lip that he has something to say. Something that has him hesitating in a way you’ve never really seen him hesitate before, well, besides the first time you both kissed.

“Actually, mind if I join ya? ‘Cause ya see, the other shower don’t work and there’s this girl - my girl - she’s amazin’, but she doesn’t let me into our bed ‘til I shower and I’m damn tired.”

Oh.

Noticing the way you tense up slightly at his suggestion, he offers more, another reason to sway you into accepting as if the pursuit of his little fantasy would both begin and end with what drops from his lips. This definitely felt more daunting, like a much larger leap than him asking for permission to kiss you.

“I also heard showerin’ in pairs saves water.”

Oh.

Yeah, you get why he was hesitating now.

Honestly, Daryl really couldn’t give a fuck about the water he was talking about. What he had in his running mind had little to do with his environmental footprint and more to do with feeling your skin on his and the image of you coming undone for him. He hasn’t been home - been with you - in what felt like weeks, and he thought the generator could stand to work a little harder after running for one person for a few days. With a slight upwards twitch of his eyebrow, you can feel what little apprehension you had leave your body and his heart pounds in his ribcage with the anxiety of what’s to come. At least, he thinks that’s why its beating at 100 miles per hour.

It surely can’t be the residual hormonal anticipation or excitement from his youth.

“And who exactly did you hear that from?”

The slight joking edge to your voice causes him to smile, but it’s a mischievous one, one that holds promises and sends a shiver through your body. Daryl really had no clue what he did to you when he looked at you like that, his piercing blue gaze hitting you as his head tilts down almost sheepishly to the grip he has on you.

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a glint residing in them that draws you to look at nothing but him as he runs his thumb along the bone of your wrist. With a tilt of his head, he speaks, muttered as he gnaws once more at his lips and lets go of his hold.

“It matter?”

So nobody, probably.

The amusing thought sends you shaking your head ‘no’ as you smile, pulling open the plastic curtain in invitation while trying to suppress the idea that just popped into your head. Daryl just wants to shower and the only reason he wants to shower with you is to fulfill that promise he had made. Because he just wants to go to sleep. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, he’s hopeful that you would be watching him - and he’s fully prepared to make a show of stripping his last piece of fabric - but he’s sorely disappointed when he sees your eyes closed in an attempt to keep the bubbling shampoo from burning at them.

Why weren’t you looking at him? Was he not overt enough?

Wow, he really wasn’t very good with… whatever it is he’s trying to do, huh?

You shuffle forward from the steady stream and he takes that as his cue to step in, gladly placing his body just a few inches from yours and sighing in relief when the water hits his sore muscles. The sounds don’t go unnoticed by you, and your heart sinks a little with each suppressed groan of pain Daryl lets out. He always worked so hard for Alexandria, and they still treated him like somewhat of an outsider, questioning his true intentions with harsh looks when he even so much as walked too close to them. But they didn’t seem to mind him much when they were eating the animals he hunted, though, and that sent your blood boiling.

Turning around, you try not to let your gaze drop too low as you place your hands on his shoulders, frowning when you feel the stiff knots that have burrowed their way underneath his skin. Almost immediately, Daryl submits to your touch, an all too familiar warmth bubbling in his heart as he, too, turns and exposes his scar ridden skin to you, allowing your thumbs to rub circles into his upper back. He always loved this - the domesticity of these moments, the wordless communications, your love and affection directed solely at him - and he’s starting to forget the real reason he crashed your shower in the first place, lulled into relaxation under your nimble fingers and the water beating down on his overworked muscles.

“Does that feel better?”

Your question warrants a response landing somewhere between a grunt and a groan, but then you laugh and he swears his heart swells tenfold. He missed hearing that. Even if you got embarrassed of it sometimes, or hid it muffled behind the palms of your hands, he loved hearing it. Because you glowed when you did, your eyes crinkling up at the corners with a smile that almost always brought him to his knees, and perhaps almost selfishly, the knowledge that he doesn’t want to be away from you any longer dawns on him - as well as the knowledge that it’s inevitable that he has to leave again soon. Whether it be with Aaron or Rick, or some of the poor bastards that piss their pants whenever they see him.

When you stop your ministrations, he feels himself frowning as you tap him once with your thumbs, but he elates almost immediately when you speak promise of a better massage come morning. He’s slightly ashamed of the way his whole body lights up in goosebumps in anticipation, but it’s not unwarranted. Spending late mornings with you was something Daryl never knew how the hell he had lived so long without, and they were his favourite types of mornings by a long shot. Especially when it ended up more often than not with you on him or him on you, the both of you thankful for the misfit house you had all to yourselves and away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears.

“You’re too damn good to me.”

But he deserves it, you think to yourself, He deserved to be cared for like this.

His praise drips with a softness he didn’t even know he was capable of until you came along and Daryl turns back around to face you, smirking lopsided when he sees a shy smile worm its way onto your face. He had to have known what he was doing when he said stuff like that - especially when he used a voice like that. Seriously, how long had the two of you been together? It felt like an eternity already, but he could still make you flustered from a simple compliment. Shaking your head, you rest your wrists at the nape of his neck and use the leverage to pull his lips to yours, thumb swiping at the blood dried at his cheek and hoping the distraction of your tongue on his will keep him from teasing the warmth crawling up your neck.

A ‘hm?’ noise falls from him, small and surprised as his eyebrows raise for just a moment before his hands loop around your waist by instinct. When you pull away, another noise falls from Daryl, but this time it’s more disappointed than anything, and he chases your lips with his bottom one jutted out, taking full advantage of the strong arms he has wrapped around you. Holding you in place, his eyes plead with the now perfected ‘one more’ look you’re all too familiar with and you can’t bring yourself to deny him - he knows you can’t. Closing his eyes and puckering his lips as he waits patiently, he hums when you finally kiss him again, his satisfaction vibrating down to the hollow center of your collarbones before begrudgingly letting you go when you pull away again.

The water runs a brownish red from the dried walker blood being washed off his body and he scrubs furiously at his arms, trying to gauge the right move that will get your thighs shaking and your moans bouncing off the ceramic tiles he’s seen less than he’s willing to admit. Should he just… go for it? Just pull you against him and push you up against the walls he wants your noises to echo off of? No, he should come up with a better idea. You deserved a better idea.

Running his thumb along his jaw, Daryl sneaks furtive glances at your body - who the hell he was hiding them from, he didn’t know - and picks even more skin off his chapped lips as he watches you twist at your waist ever so slightly to comb through your hair. Swallowing down his spit like some teenager, he watches your shoulder blades protrude and disappear, intently following the droplets of water as they fall along your neck and down the muscles you’ve developed. He had to hand it to the sorry rich prick who had designed this house because, all things considered, they did a pretty good job; there was just enough spread of it between the two of you to pass as a decent shower. Even if you or him had to oddly angle yourselves to warm a cool patch of skin.

Reaching towards the shampoo bottle, his arm brushes against your waist almost feather-light, but it sends a shiver through you, rattling your ribs and making your cheeks flush all the same. Daryl lingers for a moment longer than you expect, his body leaning as he stretches over and you think he’s going to step forward - wrap you up in him - but dutifully, respectfully, anxiously he stays put. You want his touch, especially after nights alone with only the scent of him on his side of the bed to keep you company, and, having caught a quick glance at his straining boxers before he joined, there’s little room for doubt in your mind that he wants you. But still, it exists.

Your own arms begin to sore when he finally pulls away, his hands now raking through the hair he seemingly never wants to cut. Clearing your throat, you turn around, eyes screwed shut as you face Daryl, fearing for both the shampoo you’re washing out stinging at your eyes and the fact that if you looked at him, your gaze would probably drop. God, was all it took just a few days without him to have you craving him like this? The close proximity coupled with the knowledge he’s standing next to you naked makes you tense up before a shiver runs up your spine, your thoughts causing your breath to hitch for barely a second. Despite your efforts to suppress it, your subconscious prays that he picks up on the little noise. Please let him pick up on it.

And he does, ever observant as he connects the dots, the initially surprised look on his face melting into a small anticipatory smirk before he all but races to lather his hair in the coconut - or was it grapefruit? - scent. This was good. This was damn good.

He dares take a step forward, tentative, testing out the waters as if he was unsure of your desire, but he knows he can read you, and that he can do it well. This was when he should do something, right? The subtle confirmations - a tense, a shiver, a hitching breath - beg him to. Under the streaming shower, Daryl impatiently scrubs at his scalp, teeth hooked permanently atop his lip as he watches the rivulets of watered-down shampoo catch along your skin, his fingers and mouth itching to replicate its path down your neck to your chest. He knows that path well, and perhaps that’s what makes him even more envious.

Thank God for the fact you’ve closed your eyes because if anybody saw Daryl right now, they would take a step back, maybe even several thinking he was angry. How could they not when he was glaring at you as if you had done something horrible? It’s a surprise to him, the fact that it seemed like you really could not feel the burn of his stare, but then a thought pops into his lust-fogged brain. Maybe you did know. And maybe you were toying with him, playing coy and pushing him to a teetering edge, letting him taste the tension on his tongue until he could hold back no more.

To say he’s impatient is an understatement. He isn’t simply impatient, no, he’s impatient. He wants to do something. He wants you to do something, to initiate the flurry of hands and lips he’s craving so desperately and, seemingly blind to that triad of signals, he scrubs frantic at his hair in an attempt to control himself. As he rinses out the shampoo, he manages to cling onto what little restraint he had over his body until you turn back around. It was like the universe was egging him on, trying to break his resolve by showing him those dimples on your lower back, reminding him of the way he gripped them when he took you that night before he left - and it works. Jesus fucking Christ does it work.

Daryl’s body crowds you then, muscular arms wrapped around either side of your waist and rough hands palming at your chest before sliding down to your stomach, pulling you flush into him while he grinds his hips experimentally against your body. The feeling catches you off-guard, eyes widening in surprise as you let out a gasp into the steam of hot water and you grip harshly at his forearm, attempting to steady yourself from the sensations blossoming from your thighs. He can feel them tense and begin to snap closed against him, but you hear the corners of his mouth twitch upwards with satisfaction.

“What- what are you doing?”

Restless, his fingers travel downwards, hooking a strong thigh between your two legs as he ignores your question, them parting immediately to accommodate him. Daryl’s veins thrum with adrenaline, feeling the all too familiar effects of your warm skin when he realizes you’re letting him do this - enjoying him, even - your hands pawing at his to beg him to speed up, to bring you that nirvana he loves to be the reason for. Heat flushes your body, knowing full well what he’s capable of, but despite it, your skin erupts into goosebumps under his touch, desperate for more.

“What’s it look like ‘m doin’?”

Your neck comes under his affection next, his lips meeting it as he mumbles the words against your pulse point, tongue darting out when he feels it speed up. Almost methodically, Daryl finds the marks he’d left days prior, darkening them with unadulterated determination and rolling his hips against you once more. The heavy motion draws a whine from you, short and needy as your nails dig into his wrist and he all but basks in it. God, this felt good. How the hell had he spent so long without you? Without your skin under his? Everything about you feels like a fucking drug to him.

“D-Daryl- what would your girl say.”

He smiles against your neck, a warm pride bubbling in his chest when he hears the slight shake in your voice. It always got like this when he was touching you, and he liked to think it was the anticipation raking through your body. All the possibilities he could bring to you. He loved listening to your voice as it was, but hearing it quaver as it bounced off the ceramic walls, mingled perfectly with the rhythmic thrum of water crashing against the two of you? It was almost alarming how quickly it made his head spin.

Submitting to your urging, he lets you slide his hands down to the apex of your thighs, groaning guttural into your ear when he feels your hips lift and rut into his touch, unintentionally grinding your ass onto his cock when you push yourself back onto him. Hooking his chin over your shoulder, you hear his breaths as he digs his palm an inch below your pelvis, thick fingers gripping harsh at your inner thighs as he nudges his further between them. It feels like fucking magic, whatever he’s doing, and a plea tingles at your lips before you bite it down. Daryl’s never been this bold, and this is new territory for the two of you. Very new. So you were going to let him take his time - let him explore every inch of your skin as if he didn’t already have it memorized - despite the fact every cell in your body screams for you to sink down on him right here and now.

His grip disappears too quickly for your taste, but before you can even register the decadent sear that marks his blunt fingernails and calluses, his palm makes home just below your stomach and he swipes two fingers against you, spreading you for him but avoiding that bundle of nerves you want so desperately for him to touch. An expletive drops from Daryl’s lips as he gathers evidence of your arousal, and the sound of him makes you claw at his wrist, your hands still blanketing his as you try to angle him to do something other than coat his fingers and smear you across your inner thighs. Amused, his middle finger curls, breaching you just until his first joint before pulling away, relishing in the way you clench as if trying to keep him in you.

“Hm, I dunno. What do ya think she’d say? I think she likes it.”

You can hear the self-satisfied smirk on his face as he feels your body react and you can practically see it behind your closed eyelids. Daryl knows all your buttons, every single movement that renders you down to a puddle of mush, but he’s avoiding them. His jaw clenches and unclenches as you buck your hips up to try and meet the talented fingers only getting further and further and further from you. Skin warm from the streaming water and the sheer amount of lust coursing through him, his left arm snakes upward, resting just under your breasts before pulling your shoulders flush against him. His teeth sneak out from behind his lips, grazing against that spot that made your thighs shake the first time you slept with him, and you become putty in his hands.

A gasp of Daryl’s name falls before a staggered whimper erupts from your throat, his hands moving so fast and sure along your body as if he had molded you to his perfection. Everything hits you at the same time, his sharp canines right below your jaw bone before they melt into the caress of slightly chapped lips, the hand at your chest palming and tweaking and toying like there was no tomorrow, his fingers swirling, nudging at that tiny bundle of nerves you’ve been silently begging him to touch just once, and you can’t stop the noises falling from your lips. No matter how much you try, they escape.

“Or d’ya think she’s too busy moanin’ for me to tell me?”

Oh, that fucking prick.

To make it worse, you can’t even bring yourself to be angry for that long because his voice drops into that low, husky whisper that makes your knees go weak. Had Daryl not essentially smothered you against his body, you just know you would be a puddle, pliable and aching after just a few days away from him. A jolt of pleasure rockets through you the moment you realize what he wants - to make you as desperate as he is for this - and you know he knows exactly how to get it. Biting your lip, you trap your sounds in your throat just to spite him and you dig your fingers into his forearm, seeking in any way to find another outlet for all the compounding stimulation he just keeps giving you.

Your heartbeat drums through your ears and you can barely register the growl against your skin, but the vibration of it is inescapable. He feels the crescent shapes already forming from your nails on his tan skin and he pulls his face from you, breath fanning your ear in preparation to express how disappointed he is at you robbing him of your noises, but you beat him to it, freeing the words that burn at your tongue to knock him off his high-horse. Daryl was never a very confident man, but fuck if it does not make your skin tingle.

“I think she’d tell you to- to shut up.”

The rebuke is futile, a stutter brought on by the push and pull of his deft fingers and he laughs. Daryl chuckles into your skin before everything from him detaches, only for him to grab at your waist and spin you around to face him, adjusting his hold to crowd you once more. Your back hits the ceramic tiles, a sharp whine escaping you at the contrasting cold, and you can see that smirk you had envisioned on his face when you open your eyes, taking in every inch of the swept back hair now falling into his face as he tilts his forehead slowly to yours. Running your non-dominant hand up from his arm to his face, you push the strands back, smiling slightly at the way he melts as his eyelids flutter shut for just a second. As much as he said he hated how damn soft you made him, he sought after your touch, your hands much too intoxicating for him to deny them.

You glow a ring of delicate orange from the lantern shining behind him, the light bouncing off your glistening skin and those sparkling damn eyes that shine with unguarded affection despite your ‘annoyance’ from just moments ago. Creating shadows over your body with his broad figure as he blankets you, Daryl nearly groans with delight at the image - the realization that you look impossibly better with the warm hue making his head spin. And when he remembers that you’re his to love? He tries to hide just how much it makes his mind run, but his voice comes spilling out without much thought, everything about you shrinking the filter between his brain and mouth that he so tenaciously keeps on during the day.

“That so? ‘Cause if I do then I can’t tell ‘er how much I missed her. Or what I was thinkin’ when I thought about ‘er at night.”

Daryl was already so worked up at the thought of doing this to you, you didn’t even need to actually do anything to him to have him throbbing against your stomach, begging to be touched after days of only imagined scenarios to keep him company. So you indulge him, tracing your dominant hand down the V-line of his pelvis and biting your tongue when his hips snap into your grasp, his grip at your waist tightening as he tries to still himself. He wants you to touch him, to let you give him what you want to give him and he tries his damndest to control himself, instead using his words to try and rile you up.

“Nothin’ I do feels as good as her. Nothin’ I’ve tried’s ever been close.”

Your whole body shivers at the insinuation, the ceramic sandwiching you to Daryl ceasing to feel as cold as it did when he first pushed you against it. He feels like centuries have passed when your hand finally wraps around him, running your fingers in a stroke that has him groaning and nearly keeling over you with how much that simple damn action makes heat pool in the pit of his stomach. Everything about this feels heightened, the steam of the shower failing in comparison to the heat pinging between the two of you. His eyes seek yours, cock twitching and catapulting him much farther to his climax than he would like to admit when he sees you watching your grasp, lips parted ever so slightly, pleading with him to lay his on them.

Heart thrumming in his chest, another groan of an expletive followed by your name drops from Daryl before his hips jerk forward, stuttering into your grip with no real rhythm as he pushes a rough kiss onto your mouth. When you let out a little surprised squeal, he pulls himself back immediately, as if shocked by his own lack of self-control, but your hand never stops, and your face leans closer towards his, the feeling of his ruined sounds vibrating along your tongue making you chase him. This must have been how he felt when he had you whimpering for him on those late nights and early mornings. No wonder you both loved them so much.

Twisting your other hand from the side of his neck to his nape, you pull him to you with equal fervor, the stroking of his cock forgotten in favour of his chapped lips turning into something more sinful with each movement of his talented mouth. His fingers begin to wander now, eagerly grasping at the two dimples at your lower back before his palms find all too familiar territory kneading and massaging your ass. Knees nearly buckling, you remember the leaking heaviness twitching in your grip and you nudge him between your thighs, your legs spreading just a bit wider as you inch him closer and closer and closer to where you need it most.

“N-no, wait- I gotta-“

His hands shoot downwards to still yours and he pulls his hips from you, his statement stuttered through a sharp, shaky breath. Whining, you nearly beg for him before you realize he succeeded in what he set out to do - and he was only gone four days, your subconscious chastises. Your head is swimming in desperation for him as you shake it, hair whipping into your face and onto the wall while you vehemently disagree with both his words and your own internal mocking. All coherent thoughts leave your mind, washed away in the stream of water running down your body and you come to the conclusion that you don’t fucking care if he would poke fun at you come morning, you need to feel him.

“Daryl you don’t need to- you can just- I can-“

You don’t need to keep-

You can just-

I can-

God, you sounded pathetic, your voice barely breaking above breathy through the heavy beating of water, and he loves it, it’s enticing him; he could die right now and he would feel nothing but satisfaction. Daryl was never a very confident man - well, with people at least - but around you, he felt wanted. Not just in moments like this when you craved him so debaucherously, but in moments when you would pull close to him while you were sleeping or hug him from the back. Just giving him your affection so freely and not expecting any back. It made his heart damn near break everytime he had to leave. Adjusting his grip on you, he digs his knee into the wall, perching you on either side of him and leaning closer and closer to your burning skin.

“Gotta get ya ready. Jus’- jus’ be a good girl an’ be patient. Don’t want ya limpin’ tomorrow ”

Despite his words, Daryl can’t help but think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It wouldn’t be so bad to linger beside you the whole day, a constant reminder of the real reason you needed him to get you things, or why you would grip his arm as a piss poor substitute for a crutch when the two of you walked along the street. Nobody else would know - at least, neither of you would ever tell - but the satisfied puff of his chest and the fact he stands just a little bit prouder might make them connect the dots. That, and the lovebites that creep out from underneath the neckline of your shirt which, coincidentally, only seemed to darken after he came back. Nah, he thinks to himself, it wouldn’t be so damn bad.

“I thought you were tired.”

There’s a hint of concern in your voice, peeking out from between the teasing and he grunts, acknowledging your words before his hands wrap around your wrists and urges them to loop around his neck. He knows he needs to do this, the action a silent beg for you to just relax and let him treat you right in the way you know he always will. With his neck flush in the crooks of your elbows, you tug him, pulling his face to yours and raking your fingers through his wet hair.

“Never too tired for you.”

His stubble scrapes against your nose as he mumbles his confession between kisses down from your forehead, a delicious burn leaving a trail that makes your heart beat impossibly faster between your ribs. Grip falling to your waist, Daryl’s rough fingers inch towards the apex of your thighs, but he moves them so fucking slow you're tempted to just reach down and push them into you like you intended to do with his cock. Before you can entertain the idea any longer, he catches your lips in a clash of tongue and teeth and knowingly smirks against your lips. He’s dedicated, attentive, and what kind of man would have the heart to deny you? He would do anything for you, all you had to do was ask.

Daryl eagerly swallows the moan you let out against his lips when his middle finger curls into you, the vibrations spreading along his tongue and consuming him from the inside out. Your thighs spread wider for him, welcoming him - no, begging him - for more and it riles him up almost comically well. Whether it was intentional or not, he would never know. He pulls his face away just inches, breath heavy against your parted lips before he sends you a small smile, an underlying mischief peeking out from the tiniest sliver of teeth he exposes. Leaning more of his weight onto his knee, his left hand travels around your waist to your ass, digging his dull fingernails into the flesh and pulling towards him, bringing your hips off the cold ceramic and snaking that arm into the curve he’s just created.

Before you can even brace yourself, he pushes a second finger in, curling languid with accelerating speed, revelling in the heat you bring him with an audible groan that reverberates off the shower walls. Already so desperate, the feeling nearly makes your legs shake under your own weight, but Daryl’s prepared - he could keep you up with the hand he has splayed across your upper back and he’s secretly proud of it. His mouth returns to you again, tongue surging to meet yours as if just the taste of your kiss would satisfy his desire to taste what’s beginning to coat down his palm.

It doesn’t, but it’s a damn good substitute.

Nails scratching pathetically at his scalp, your lungs beg for oxygen, but you ignore your body’s pleading for as long as you can. You need Daryl. Just him. Just him. His fingers are ardent, all of them pushing and pulling and toying and touching you in a way that skyrockets you into an overwhelming nirvana and it feels good. It feels so good to be with him again, surrounded by his scent and his heat, that you start to entertain the thought of begging for him. You try to do just that, but every sound coming from your lips is only absorbed greedily by his before you pull him away by his hair, taking large gulps of oxygen as he does the same.

Not even a second passes before you’re grinding down into his palm with pleas falling into the steam of the shower, all your words going straight down to his cock. Gritting his teeth, he growls at your desperation, lips shooting down along your collarbone before catching the skin between teeth. He has your whole body memorized, proof of that fact littered across your body in the form of lovebites, memories seared into your mind of his everything and it’s almost too much to handle. Almost. But you need more. And Daryl knows, much too perceptive in all senses of the word.

His left arm snakes up to your neck, the nape of it secured in a grip firm enough to pull your hips down onto his muscular thigh, spreading you and rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves with his rough skin. Something between a swear and Daryl’s name chokes through your throat and he curls his two fingers just enough for you to repeat the sound, the movement perhaps pulling your hips forwards toward him. With the way you grind down so readily on him, it wasn’t easy to tell whether the roll of your lower body was from his fingers or the lust running through your veins. A satisfied smirk worms its way onto his face that you want to kiss off, but your head is stuck against the ceramic tiling by his hand tugging securely on your hair. Not enough to hurt you. Never enough to hurt you.

He can feel it now, the fact that you’re close, and it only makes him work harder. Maybe it was selfish of him, expediting your pleasure so he can finally seek out his, but he’s damn near shaking with the thought of finally being able to be with you in one of the ways he always wants to be. Sometimes Daryl felt like a teenager with all this certain enthusiasm he can’t seem to control with you around, but you had never complained - you made him feel alive in all the best ways - and he thanked whoever was pulling the strings in his favour for bringing him to you. Circling his thigh, he pushes everything he can up into you, the pressure making you feel like you’re floating. Fingers carding through his hair, your whole body tightens around him in a silent plea, and he's pretty sure he would have to be just about the biggest idiot in existence to ever deny you.

“Give it to me. C’mon, give it to me. Ya wanted my cock didn’t ya? Jus’ give it to me an’ I’ll make ya feel even better.”

Give it to me.

Daryl’s voice makes your mind swim, the growl rough and dangerous like everyone always tends to think he is, and incoherence drops from your lips, echoing against the confines of the walls as his breath fans your ear. Rutting your hips up to his hand, the knot in your abdomen snaps, the proclamation of it escaping you in a broken moan of his name. He can feel your body’s reactions before you start to get those familiar sparking waves of pleasure, the clench of you around him growing sporadic as he continues to unravel you with his teeth gritted, the unrelenting precision of his fingers sending you clawing and tugging at his scalp with no regard of your strength for just a moment.

His groan at the sensations edges out the haze of your climax and you immediately detach from him, pulling your body back from his so abruptly that he slips from you. Scrunching his nose in disappointment, his large hands cling at the back of your thighs, bringing your chest and forehead to his as if he couldn’t stand being apart from you for even just a few seconds.

“Sorry- sorry if that hurt I didn’t mean to-”

Face inches from yours, he shakes his head and cuts you off with a series of hungry pecks. One to your sinfully soft lips, then to the corner of your mouth, then one to your jawbone, devouring your apology right then and there as he overtakes your senses.

“‘S alright. It felt good.”

Then he kisses you again, urgent all the same, but he only pushes a firm brush of his mouth against yours. The movement is like a signature, as if it were his name scribbled easily along at the bottom of a letter - a soft possession that you wear along the tingles of your lips. It makes you claw at him again, tugging on the sides of his hips to pull him flush against you, fingernails digging crescent shapes he wants to see come morning, and your apprehension all but dissolves into the hot water of the shower. You were his, he was yours and in his mind, there was nothing he wanted more than for you to show him just what he does to you.

“Anythin’ ya do feels good.”

It’s stupid, how you could be in the middle of something so intimate and a simple compliment from him could leave you flushed from the neck upwards, but he loves it. He loves the little whimper you let out at his words and he smiles that lopsided boyish grin that makes your heart skip a beat. When he smiles at you like that, it makes you feel like the only person in the entire world. No walkers, no Alexandrians, no runs or patients at the infirmary to steal you or him away from the other. There was no one except you and Daryl - and it’s been too damn long since it was like this.

Body flush against yours, he snakes a hand down between his legs and the other grips at your thigh, hooking it around his torso and begging with a roll of his hips for you to rest your leg there. Each breath he takes sends a jolt of pleasure blossoming against your ribs, his skin rubbing against your chest so deliciously it makes your mouth fall open in silent pants of air. You don’t know when you closed your eyes, but they open when Daryl says your name, broken by a curse that falls somewhere after the first letter. He looks good like this - eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched.

Gritting his teeth, his mouth can barely form a coherent sentence with how much excitement is coursing through him, and he’s trying his fucking best to hold back from slamming into you until you give him a nod or a pull or anything, but then something in him breaks. The feeling of just having you so damn close worms its way into his brain and he takes himself in his fist, dragging along to gather the remnants of your climax and notches himself, all the while groaning from the heat emanating off you.

“‘S this okay? Need t’know if this’s okay.”

Slurred speech. It was so uncharacteristic of the Daryl everyone else knew - the Daryl who was so sure of himself, the Daryl who wore a permanent scowl on his face, the Daryl who was so mysterious, never speaking anything above a growl - and you think you could have laughed had it not been for the fact the words themselves dig up memories of all the times he had said them to you before. Every cell in your body lights up, high alert now that he’s in you, but he’s not moving. He’s not inching into you or filling you in the only way he can and you push your hips towards him, greedy movements making you swallow more of him. Taking a sharp breath, he lets you rut against him, but still, he doesn’t fucking move.

“God, Daryl- yes. Yes, it’s okay. More- more than okay.”

Sometimes you hated him, and then hated how stupid you felt for hating him.

He waits for your words. He always does. Without fail he checks on you before he slides into you. He never wants to take because he always wants to be good for you, but sometimes you wish he would. Sometimes you wish he would just take from you - take everything you have. There is nothing in this world that is not shared between the two of you. Daryl’s wholly yours as you are wholly his.

Curses drop from his lips, your name thrown in once or twice as if he’s reminding himself you’re real as he feels you around him. They fly out of his mouth like the bolts from his crossbow and ricochet off every wall as he begins to move, slow at first, experimental maybe with his hand secure against your thigh, then he starts building and building into a heavy, sinful rhythm. Shakily, Daryl groans, the breath he lets out tendrilling at your chin before he sucks frantically at your bottom lip, your noises meeting his as they hit the ceramic wall.

He wants to live in this moment forever; immortalize the way you look and sound on one of those VHSes, write the damn date on it, and hide it away for his and your eyes only so it’s rewatchable and revisitable and reliveable. It's not enough to just sear you into his memory like he’s done so many times before because you’re damn near perfect. Like you were made for him - for him to give you everything he wants to give to you.

“Fuck- fuck- you feel better’n I remembered. How’s‘at possible?”

The words escape him, rushing out as if you’ve put a spell on him, and they almost escape you, too, your pulse beating in your ears. But he’s so close to you, growling out through gritted teeth into your ear and pushing his lips to the curve of your jawbone like they need to be on your skin. He pulls his body away, chest leaving yours, and you pull at his waist to bring him back, whining lewd for him and only him, shameless and betraying the blush you feel as you register his stutters, but he doesn’t. Instead, Daryl smiles, that same damn grin with his teeth hooked along his bottom lip and eyes hooded as he watches every change in expression. You groan, half in the way he rolls his pelvis just enough to rub against that small bundle of nerves that beg for him, and half in annoyance at the way that lascivious expression seems to make every electron in you buzz.

“Shut- shut up.”

He lets out a sharp breath, a singular amused ‘ha’ following it, cock hardening and twitching even more at the fact he’s making you blush like that first night he had lavished every inch of your body with his lips - like you didn’t deserve every single damn word escaping from him. Leaning his weight against his left forearm that lies on the side of your head, Daryl brings his face to yours, nipping at your lips and seeking your tongue before he starts speaking.

“You should see yourself like this, y’know. Fuckin’ perfect for me.”

For a man who only ever growls and mutters, he certainly liked to talk a lot when he was pounding into you the way only he knows how and you’re just so damn unbelievable for him. For him. You’re his to love and it sparks something within in him that makes his tongue fucking run and his hips speed up involuntarily. Hell, you probably heard more of his voice in this shower tryst than the whole first nightwatch you had with him. You’re not even sure the water is beating down onto you anymore because the heat of your body makes the shower pale in comparison.

The sweat accumulating on his back and chest and everywhere is washed away almost immediately as it forms and you’re grasping for something to hold onto. Clawing, you wrap both your arms under and around his shoulders and scratch desperately at his back, grinding up against him and making jumbled noises of moans and Daryl’s name when he drags against that spot he knows so well. It’s skin on skin, the ceramic wall ceasing to feel cold as you screw your eyes shut and let yourself mount and mount with each roll of his hips. You hear a nearly feral growl, feeling your leg being hiked up higher by the elbow hooked underneath your thigh, and a loud noise breaks from your throat when his thumb swipes where his cock meets you.

“C’mon, we ain’t got all night.”

You’re close and he knows it. It was like he was rubbing it in your face, the fact he could make you like this - how quickly he could reduce you into the incoherent, ruined state you always seemed to become for him. Attentive. He’s always attentive. You can tell by the way he’s memorized everything that makes you shake and capitalizes on them, thrusts coupled with the tight circles pulling you closer and closer to that precipice of pleasure, but he says those words anyways, hoping to get a reaction from you. Daryl’s not an impatient lover - he would spend hours buried in you if you let him - but he’s so damn close and perhaps almost selfishly, he wants to watch you succumb first. He wants to watch the water race down your body as you writhe for him against the wall, and he wants that to send him over the edge.

“Then- then do better, Daryl.”

You bite back, your breath grazing against his neck and a wet heat rushes through him, making him groan nearly wrecked as his hair tickles your cheek. Reaching behind his muscular body to his shoulder blades, one of his large hands is more than enough to wrap around both of your wrists and he takes them in his grasp, moving them until they’re secure against the ceramic wall behind you. You’re warm for him. Pliable for him despite the veil of distaste in your voice and he can’t get enough of it.

Daryl’s so fucking happy you bite back.

His hips stop and you let out an almost childish cry, but he stays buried deep, filling you up to the brim as the water beats down on the both of you and holding you against the tiles by the weight he’s pressing from where you meld to him. His face is so close to your ear now. So much so that you can feel the breath when he speaks, a dangerous growl resounding through your body before his teeth graze along your neck.

“Hm? I ain’t never heard a complaint from you be- before. That a- fuck- are ya challengin’ me?”

An expletive drops from Daryl’s lips when you clench around him, no doubt from the sudden crash of your mounting pleasure, and he pushes impossibly further into you, firmly pinning you down until he knows you won’t be able to move anymore. He wants to show you he can stop at any moment, that he can make you work for it, but you both know he’ll give in. Maybe you didn’t know the extent of which you have him wrapped around your finger, but if you even knew half of it, you would know he would never stop. Not when he was so desperate for you he can barely think of anything except the way you look and feel. At least, not unless you wanted him to.

“Are you g-gonna take it up?”

Although your mouth ceases there, your brain runs, pleas tickling at the tip of your tongue, but you can barely manage to form the meager few syllables that have already escaped you. Eyebrows knotted at your forehead, you try desperately to coax more movement from him - a whine, a whimper, a thrash of your pinned hands flattened by his strong grip - but Daryl’s so damn still and it’s driving you crazy. When your body settles for only ragged breathing and shaking thighs, he takes it as his cue to lean down, lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s so affectionate you forget that, just moments ago, he was relentlessly pounding into you.

“Don’t know. Seems like you might be wantin’ it more’n me.”

Smiling against your mouth, he pulls away just enough to speak. A challenge in his words so obvious to you that you try in vain to buck your hips to his. If he didn’t sound so good and look so good and feel so damn good, you would have denied it, but you’re strung so taut, so close to the peak, that you can barely form a retort. A stupid, handsome smirk rests on his lips as he waits. Patient. Like it wasn’t affecting him, being buried in you. He’s just waiting for your words - goading you as he watches from underneath his lashes.

“Daryl, I swear to God if you stop right-“

The insincere threat is enough to spur him into action. Partly due to the fact you sound so desperate and ruined for him, and partly because he just needs to feel you again - he would lay you down and take you the way you deserved on the bed come morning, but right now was a different matter entirely. Swearing, his smirk drops in favour of a scowl, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he snaps up into you in quick succession. The hand at your thigh is roaming now, massaging and palming wherever his nimble fingers can worm their way onto before it splays across your ass, using the grip to pull your body impossibly closer to his. Daryl would have made you beg for him - he wanted to - but he can’t stop himself. Not when you look so pretty up against the wall and you’re taking his cock so well.

“Been gone four days an’ you’re already so damn needy.”

Whether that statement was directed at you or himself, you would never know.

An abashed whimper escapes through you and you want to deny it, perhaps just to see what would happen, but you can’t. You can’t because Daryl’s right. He knows he is, and you know he is. You thrash your arms so you can touch him, feel his skin underneath your fingers, but his grip around your wrists keeps you firm against the ceramic tiling - just enough to keep you pinned so he can admire the way you squirm for him. Grunts and groans of your name escape from him with each thrust, the feeling of your body melded to his much too intoxicating for him to keep his mouth shut.

“What, you embarrassed now? Wanna cover your mouth? Keep them noises from me when you’re soundin’ so damn pretty? Ya better not be thinkin’ about it. ‘Cause ya damn well ain’t gotta.”

Daryl tilts his head, eyes squinting in faux-concern and mocking you as his hips relentlessly hit up into yours, pushing out the breath from your lungs which escape in tantalizing gasps with each roll. You’re so close, and the only thing you can do is moan at the sound of his rough voice, the coil tightening in your abdomen because of his determined thrusts. You just need a little more - just a little more - and he reads you like a book.

Without warning, the hand pinning your wrists frees itself, his finger pinpointing back between your thighs with an unadulterated eagerness to pull your climax from you and you damn near cry out Daryl’s name as you claw at his back. It’s like second nature to him, the way he can touch you and make you crumble for him. Practice does make perfect, and he’s always been a persistent man.

“Ya sure as hell weren’t when you were bein’ a brat.”

Everything he’s doing to you is almost effortless. It makes your legs shake and without warning, your thighs tense up, a white hot surge of pleasure erupting from the base of your stomach and you gasp a broken moan of Daryl’s name as you clutch at his neck in an effort to keep yourself from collapsing onto him. He holds you close, chest pushed up to yours and breathing ruined into your ear as he works you through your climax with dextrous fingers, chasing his own as his rhythm begins to falter. Sporadic thrusts meet each flutter of your clenching warmth. until he can’t hold out anymore.

Screwing his eyes shut, a stuttered chanting of profanities mixed in perfectly with pleads of your name fan out from his mouth and he pulls out, rubbing himself harsh against your thigh before your fingers wrap around his cock. Fuck, Daryl nearly crumbles right then and there, a ragged groan rushing from him before his hips jerk upwards to your touch - nothing could even compare to it and he thinks nothing could ever come close. Nothing except you. Pulsing in your grasp, both of his rough hands dig into either of your thighs and he stills, teeth gritted as the evidence of his pleasure hits your stomach before being washed away in the steady stream of water.

Satisfied, you smile and lean towards him, your head coming off the ceramic wall, and he parts his lips immediately for your tongue, but you pull away after giving him a quick peck. Scrunching his nose, Daryl pats lightly at your thigh for your attention and seeks your lips once more, moving his with the same amount of overwhelming love and affection he always does. It makes you feel warm inside, like you were the only one in the world for him. And you were. At least, in his mind you were.

He releases the grip he has on your thigh and slowly lowers it, his hand still ghosting close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off his body. Both legs still shaking slightly, your foot hits the floor of the shower and you lean your weight on it, tentative and experimentally at first before you overestimate its security and half-fall-half-stumble into him. Daryl notices, of course he does, and he swallows down the pride welling in his chest as his sure grasp steadies you against his body.

“Hey, hey, I got ya. Jus’- jus’- I got ya.”

By instinct, he speaks, the rumble of his chest against yours making your heart well up with the familiar fondness you always experience when it comes to him. Daryl wasn’t a man of many words even though you had managed to break him out of his shell a little - at least with you - but there was no doubt in your mind that he genuinely and wholeheartedly cared about you. In his eyes, you had strung the stars into the sky and he always treated you with a softness he never thought himself capable of.

With one hand on his waist and one on his shoulder, you use Daryl as a crutch, continuing to lean your weight on your legs until they cease to shake. When you can stand on your own, albeit with wobbly legs, you link your fingers in both of his and meet his protective gaze - alert as if prepared to catch you again if your body gave any type of signal. He smiles when he sees the expression on your face and brings your knuckles to his lips, pressing a firm kiss onto the back of each of your hands before letting go and reaching for the bar of soap you two had ignored in exchange for something more riveting.

“Here, let me- I’ll help ya wash up.”

It meets your shoulder and it’s cold as he trails it down, lathering your right arm before moving across your chest and to your left. Smiling at his concern, you hum, nodding your head and content at the feeling of his tenderness as he continues to dutifully run the suds down along your body. Daryl unabashedly goes about copping a feel or two when his hand just so happens to fall onto your chest or your ass, a boyish grin meeting your quirked eyebrow when you question his intentions with a look. If you actually, truly cared to ask him, he would say he was helping you wash your body and making sure he was doing it to the best of his ability - quality assurance or some shit like that.

He helps you lather, too, calloused fingers rubbing off dead skin much better than yours could as he focuses the showerhead on him. You laugh when he pulls you into him, water streaming down your body along with his hands as the bubbles wash off your body and you run the bar of soap along the broad expanse of his shoulders, doing your fair share of subtle… touching too. Daryl all but melts into your caring hands, revelling in the way your attention is solely focused on him before he grunts, as if signalling you to look at him. When you do, his hands loop around your waist, head tilted to one side as he gingerly rubs those little shapes he always love to draw onto your skin.

“Y’alright? Was, uh, was that alright, I mean.”

Allowing you to maneuver him under the shower, he begrudgingly lets go of you to rinse off all the soap and feels genuinely clean for the first time in what felt like days. Smiling, you respond, saluting playfully and laying a small peck onto the corner of his lips before you spin around, pulling the curtain open just enough to reach for the towel lying just a few inches away on the towel rack but still keeping the warmth from the water in.

“Yes, sir!”

His cock twitches at the name, betraying the slur of fatigue in his voice and he sighs at himself, turning the shower knob off and opening the curtain fully, reaching for his own towel that hangs next to yours. He always did feel like a teenager when it came to you, and usually he didn’t mind it, but he really was tired before this and his back is killing him, so maybe another time.

Drying your body, you turn your head towards him and smile before making quick work of your wet hair and stepping out, pulling your underwear on from where you left it on the bathroom counter. It’s a small smile, one fully innocent and only ever reserved for him, but that look makes your words replay in his mind. A shudder runs through him as he tries to ease a smile onto his face too, admiring the scene of you for a moment. It’s domesticity, showing him a homelife he could actually feel loved and safe in; reminding Daryl something like that actually existed for him.

He imagines meeting you in a different world, wooing you like you deserved through coffee dates and Radiohead concerts, not through killing reanimated corpses or guarding Alexandria’s walls together, and his whole body calms down.

But then you pull on a shirt that’s much too big for you - one of his shirts that you said you liked wearing because it smelled like him - and he swallows his spit as if he hadn’t seen you naked just moments ago, a familiar shudder running through him again. Definitely another time. Near future, preferably.

Hopefully.

“You coming?”

Your voice breaks Daryl out of his daydream and he grunts an answer, smirking at the joke that just popped into his head as he replies with a curt ‘I just did’ and catches the pair of boxers you throw at him in response. Rolling your eyes, you comb your fingers through your hair and try to dry it as much as you can with the towel before reaching for your toothbrush. He follows suit, dressed in only his boxers as he brushes his teeth and shakes his wet hair at you like a dog, causing you to whip water at him off your fingertips after you wash off the excess toothpaste dribbling at the corners of your mouth. Smiling internally, he spits, tasting mint on his tongue that he'd much rather replace with the taste of your lips, even though he knows full well you’re just as minty as he is.

“Thank you.”

Meeting his eye in the mirror, you give him a confused look, eyebrows raised in an expression he thought was much too cute on your face for your own good. Your hands don’t still as you continue to rub out the water in your hair, determined not to go to bed with it too wet and risking it to clump up and dry tangled.

“For lettin’ me, uh, do that.”

His naturally gravelly voice clears up, turning slightly more timid than you were used to and you notice the shift in his behaviour. He avoids your gaze, waiting for your response as he fiddles with the lantern he now has in his grasp, unsure of what you would say and you decide your hair is dry enough. Hanging your towel back onto the rack next to his, you grab his free hand and lead the two of you back towards the bed, smiling affectionately as you turn off the lightsource and place it onto the nightstand. Wide-eyed, Daryl stares at you, as if waiting for you to tell him to leave - that you hated what he had done - but you break him from that train of thought as you slip under the covers and welcome him to join you.

Relief washes over him and he happily climbs in, groaning at the feeling of your body next to his and he succumbs to the comfort of the mattress. Pushing yourself into his side, his arms automatically open for you and he swears he could cry when you brush your thumb against his cheekbone and lean up to him.

“Anything for you.”

He feels the words as you whisper them just inches away from his lips, and he relishes in them when you pull away from the quick peck and dig your face into your pillow, closing your eyes and just looking so at peace. You’re so close to him Daryl’s in awe and he can’t help but stare. Wanting to hold onto the feeling of his skin a little longer, your finger draws a little heart over where his beats in his chest and you speak again, voice so warm and sincere.

“I’m glad you’re home.”

Home. That’s what it is to him now, too.

“Glad ‘m home too.”

With a final kiss laid on your forehead, Daryl echoes your statement and pulls your body closer into his. A small smile tugs at his lips and his arm slings lazily at your waist before he, too, closes his eyes, allowing himself to fall into the lull of sleep.

It was good to be back.

Back to a home he had made with you.

──── ⋙

@daryldixonluv @pulplorrd @fuseburner @hells-mistress @maria--grey-blog @marylimlp @pncnsc @tinachristeen @hail-yourselves @whimsicallymad @just-always-tired @phoenixblack89

comment to be on my taglist!

#haruwrites #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon #daryl x you #twd smut #daryl smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl the walking dead #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead smut #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead imagine #daryl dixon oneshot

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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

Text

Day 136: Long Drive

Sorry friends. The second half of my week last week was really difficult and I went away for the weekend to recharge. Without further ado, here's the next ficlet. Thanks for your patience <3

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Harry loved the States for a lot of reasons; it was way easier to disappear here than in England; even if people knew his name, they were way less likely to recognize his face; you could basically pick any climate that you wanted and find a place that suited you; and lots of other weird things.

But mostly he loved road trips.

He loved the entire concept behind getting in a car and just driving. The road unfurling endlessly in front of him, windows down, radio turned up and blaring whatever struck his fancy. With Max in the car beside him, wagging his tail and sticking his head out of the window, Harry felt practically weightless.

"Alright, buddy," he told the pittie when he pulled over to grab some breakfast at a little diner, "You hang out in the back, yeah?" he asked, scratching behind his ears and pressing a kiss to the broad bridge of his nose. "Go on," he said, nudging him toward the back that Harry had magically enlarged and turned into a comfortable living space.

Muggles had campers and rvs but with a little bit of magic, the beaten up Subaru served him just fine.

He got out and hit the lock button, listening to the satisfying little beep as he headed toward the diner, catching up his curls and tying them into a loose messy bun on top of his head.

The diner was cute, all red and white checkered decorations and a counter with spinny stools. Harry sat down at one and grabbed a menu, perusing and trying to decide what to order when he heard the crash of something being dropped to the ground and breaking.

His head snapped up and he blinked, wondering if it had been too long since he'd gone to sleep because he had to be hallucinating. "Malfoy?" he spluttered.

(Read more below the cut)

But before the other man could respond there was a shout from the kitchen in the back, "Damn it! You clumsy, stupid ass!" the man shouted and Harry felt himself recoiling from the anger in his voice. "You'll be paying for that!"

"Yes, sir!" Malfoy shouted back, bending over and hastily sweeping up the pieces.

"Well don't mess around with that now!" he shouted. "You've got a customer, you worthless piece of-" his voice trailed off as he slammed a door in the back but Harry could fill in the rest.

"Malfoy?" he repeated as the man in question stepped over to him. "How on earth did you find me?" he asked.

"You found me, Potter," he snapped. "Not the other way around. Now what can I get you?"

"You actually work here?" Harry asked in befuddlement.

Malfoy gritted his teeth, "Obviously. Otherwise I wouldn't be wearing this stupid apron and I wouldn't be getting screamed at by the arsehole that owns this place. What can I get you?" he repeated.

"Umm," he said, glancing down at the menu, "I will definitely have a cup of coffee. And then maybe the first special on your board with scrambled eggs, bacon, and rye toast," he said. "And also grape jelly, if you have it."

"Got it," Malfoy replied, scribbling on the ticket. "Coming right up."

He spun on his heel and strutted off before Harry could say anything more and Harry just stared after him, wondering if he was dreaming.

Malfoy was back a few minutes later with a mug and a coffee pot, filling Harry's cup and sliding it over to him.

"Thanks," Harry said, reaching for the sugar. "What are you-"

"Look," Malfoy hissed, leaning over and keeping his voice low, "Please do not blow this for me. I know that you have no reason to help me but I really need this job, Potter."

Harry blinked and by the time he'd unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth, Malfoy was gone again.

It wasn't long before the other man emerged once more, carrying Harry's plate of breakfast. "Here you go," he said as he set it down and slid a couple of grape jelly packets toward him. "Enjoy. Do you need a warm up on your coffee?"

"Uhh," Harry replied, glancing at his half full cup, "Sure."

Malfoy nodded and grabbed the pot to refill his cup.

"When do you get off work?" Harry found himself asking.

The other man's brow furrowed, "Why?"

He shrugged as he slathered jelly onto his toast, "Thought it might be nice to catch up."

"To catch up?" Malfoy repeated. "Is that code for-"

"Hear about your life," Harry supplied.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed, "Fine. I get off at 10:00. If you pretend that you are just a customer passing through I'll give you fifteen minutes."

"Done," Harry replied easily. "So what touristy shite is there to do in this town until 10:00 am?"

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

After he finished breakfast, Harry ended up just taking Max for a walk and then to the dog park to chase a ball around him. He'd worked hard to train him the first few months after he'd found him abandoned, tied up to a dumpster and all but starving. And Max had learned quickly, mastering basic commands in no time which was for the best, since people took one look at him and decided he was scary.

He wasn't, he was a sweet boy who loved people and who loved to play but it didn't seem to make any difference. Still, once he was trained, Harry had started taking him to the park and he wouldn't let other people bully them out.

Around 9:30, they headed back to the diner and Harry settled Max into the back, making sure his water bowl was full before he climbed back out of the car and leaned against the hood, waiting.

Malfoy emerged a few minuted after 10:00, looking a bit disheveled in his black t-shirt and skinny jeans, and immediately lit up a cigarette before looking around and spotting Harry. His eyebrows rose like he was surprised to see him before he squared his shoulders and made his way toward him.

"Hey," Harry said, straightening up as Malfoy approached him.

Malfoy blew a stream of smoke out of his mouth, "Hey?" he asked. "Is that really what you have to say to me?" He shook his head, "Just get it over with Potter," he said. "If you want to gloat just fucking gloat so I can move on and go get my groceries."

"I don't want to gloat," Harry protested.

"What do you want, then?" he asked scathingly.

And that was the question, wasn't it? What did Harry want? "Why are you working here?" he asked.

Malfoy rolled his eyes as he exhaled another puff of smoke, "It's amazing where you end up when you're a convicted death eater whose wand is monitored," he replied. "Then add to that the fact that it didn't seem to matter where I got myself set up in muggle London, someone found me and within hours I'd lose whatever job I'd been working. So here I am, just trying to get by and who should appear but the savior himself," he said with a little mock bow. "I should just put my two weeks in here now, at least-"

"I'm not going to tell anyone you're here," Harry said quickly.

"Right," he huffed sarcastically.

"I'm not," he argued, "Because if I told them where you are, they'd know where I've been."

"You're running away too?" Malfoy asked, cigarette dangling loosely from his fingers as he stared at Harry in surprise.

"Obviously," Harry replied. "Come on," he said after a moment. "Your feet must be killing you. I'm sure that arsehole doesn't give you breaks," he added as he opened the hatch.

"You want me to climb into the trunk of your car?"

He rolled his eyes, "I know you think I'm an idiot," he said, "But I'm less of one than you think. Just," he crawled in and stood up, "come on."

After a moment Malofy followed him through but before anything else could happen Max bounded over and all but climbed onto Malfoy's lap.

"Max-" he started to scold before Malfoy started talking over him.

"Oh, hello you sweet baby," he said, pulling Max further onto his lap so he could pet him better and scratch his neck. They looked ridiculous, Max was almost as big as Malfoy, but there he sat anyway, "hello. Aren't you a lovie?" he asked. "Yes you are. You're a giant lovie," he said.

And in that moment, Harry's mind was made up. "Have you ever gone on a road trip?" he asked.

Malfoy looked up at him and Max licked a stripe up his cheek. He laughed and stroked his side, "What?" he asked.

"Have you ever gone on a road trip?" Harry repeated.

"What is that?"

"Like a really long drive," he said. "Where you just get in your car and drive and stop for food when you want to and sleep when you want to." He scratched the back of his neck, "Max and I are headed to California to see the giant redwoods."

"That sounds nice for the two of you," Malfoy replied, steadily patting Max.

"Come with us," Harry said.

The other man blinked. "Sorry?"

"Just," he shrugged, "What else do you have here?"

"A job-"

"That you hate."

"A flat-"

"That is probably smaller than this," he said gesturing to the space they were sitting in.

"What happens when you get sick of me?"

He shook his head, "Come on. Just come with us. If I kick you out I'll give you $5000. That should be enough to help you settle wherever you want, right?"

"Why?"

He stared at him for a moment. There were a thousand reasons that flitted through Harry's mind, a thousand things that he could say, but none of them made any sense. Not yet at least. "Why not?" he settled on.

Malfoy took a slow inhale and then nodded once. "Fine, but you're going to need to make a second bed and we have to stop for my stuff."

"Done," Harry replied, grinning and feeling the familiar feeling of freedom that he felt when he was gliding down the open road unfurling in his chest.

Finally, he was going on an adventure worth having.

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

Day 135: Off-Guard | Day 137: Symmetry

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #sorry I've been awol for a few days #drarry #drarry drabbles #road trips #down and out draco #running away #freedom

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forest-of-thought · 2 years

Text

My theory regarding Eddie in vol.2 (I think there’s a mislead)

I posted this on Reddit as well just in case anyone thinks I’m stealing content lol

So it seems like the general consensus amongst the fandom right now is that Eddie is going to sacrifice himself in the next part playing the guitar to wake Nancy up from her trance.

I understand where this theory comes from because of the way Vol.1 ended as well as the fact we see Eddie in the season trailer rocking out in the upside down (which we've yet to see) combined with the fact that his survival rate seems damn near impossible due to everyone thinking he's the murderer and the gang having no way to prove his innocence.

It's a good theory - however, not only do I doubt this is going to happen, but I actually think there may even be a possibility that Eddie could survive the season. I'm gonna try and break this down as best as I can.

So to start with:

1) Nancy is going to need to be saved from Vecna and in order for that we need someone to play a song that's of great importance to her. It makes total sense why people would assume it's Eddie that does this, but if you look back at the scene in the trailer you can see Eddie on top of his RV which is presumably where he had to go in order to retrieve his guitar. I'm not sure how far Eddie lives, but if Nancy is in ASAP need of being saved at this point then there's no way he'd be able to do all of this in time for her and have her hear it loud enough for it to work. The biggest reason though, is that if you go back and watch episode 7, specifically the scene where Robin is looking through Nancy's belongings, she actually comes across Nancy's music tapes and is looking through them - Eddie isn't going to save Nancy - Robin is.

Not only does this make perfect sense for the location, but given how Nancy and Robin have been a duo for a good chunk of their screen time this season, it makes the most narrative sense for it to be Robin than Eddie that helps Steve save her.

2) If you watch the Vol.2 trailer, you can see a scene involving both Dustin and Eddie (back of his head) gearing up to fight. If we assume that the scene with Nancy happens at the beginning of ep8 then this must mean that Eddie sticks around past that point (it's actually quite a cute scene because it looks like the two of them are dressed up like they're in a D&D campaign). Realizing this, if you go back and look at the "guitar scene" from the first trailer, you can actually see someone crouched against the amps next to Eddie - I think this might actually be Dustin.

So it seems like there's a point in the story where both Dustin and Eddie are together separate from the others, and given how it seems like Steve, Nancy and Robin are off on their own without Eddie during what I assume is most likely the final episode. Then I think this is less a sign of Eddie being dead and more so that they've split up into 2 groups to help take down Vecna.

THIS is where the guitar scene comes into play.

Steve, Nancy and Robin are going to Vecna's lair to kill him, meanwhile Eddie and Dustin are going to his RV to blast out music in order to distract the demobats from them (which makes sense because bats follow echolocation). Similar to the Robin stuff mentioned above, this also makes more narrative sense since it's Eddie now doing his heroic act of not running away and choosing to "fight" so to speak. And having Dustin with him makes the scene better since it's a mirror of their campaign from episode 1.

Now this is the part I'm not entirely 100% certain about, but I actually think Eddie will survive this scene. Because if there's an opening in every location where a murder has happened then all him and Dustin need to do when things get too crazy is hop through the gap inside the RV where Christie was killed. We don't actually know how long Eddie needs to distract the bats for, it could quite literally just be a case of drawing them all far enough for the other 3 to get past the entrance. I feel like this must be in the final episode somewhere, because if the finale is 2 hours long and they go on this suicide mission in ep8 instead then they'd have to find a way to keep them all there for an entire episode and a half until the end. And if Will ends up getting grabbed and Mike & El join the others eventually then it makes more sense for it to be a final battle style of scene.

To summarise: Robin is going to save Nancy and Eddie will make it till the final episode to which he'll have his big moment to shine and help save everyone.

There IS still a possibility that he can die, but I doubt it at this point given how much potential the character has and it would be a shame given the incredible acting of the actor who plays him. With that said though, the issue of the townspeople viewing him as a murderer and not being able to prove his innocence is a really big obstacle in his survival probability. The only way I can see this getting resolved (and this is admittedly the biggest leap in my theory) is if in the final episode the entire town ends up finding out about everything/the truth and it ends with massive final steaks for every character.

Which I mean...given how S5 is supposed to be the final season, I kinda feel like the show has to go this route at some point to cap the entire story off?

I think the trailer really wants you to think that Eddie is going to die sacrificing himself, because of how obvious it seems. But that's also why I feel like it's a mislead, especially knowing how much they tried to hammer in the part about Eddie always running and making it seem like his character arc is leading up to a final stand. Because that's the natural conclusion people would jump to when you take into consideration that he can't exactly go back to his normal life after everything is over. But I think that's just the show trying to hide things so people don't figure out how everything ends.

I don't know what song Eddie will play, but I'd love to see the trailer song "Separate Ways" show up in the show, especially since it seems like a great song for action and something he'd know how to play.

I do really hope he sticks around though for S5 because he's a good replacement partner for Dustin if Steve isn't there for one reason or another, and I'd like for him to meet Will because of the D&D connection and El as well.

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things season 4 #st season 4

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howdywrites · 3 years

Text

Chapter Zero

→ an In The Woods Somewhere excerpt

This is from my zero draft of ITWS that won't be in the new draft I'm starting for Camp NaNo. I still thought it would be fun to share since it gives a little insight into Jackie (park ranger main) and a side character named Benny who works under her. NOTE: there is a lot of info in this that's changed as I've outlined so some of the locations will be inaccurate.

Warnings: brief mention of recreational drug use (mushrooms)

Length: 2.3k words

[ WIP Intro ]

Breath burned aching lungs. Boots stomped in slick, dark mud. The icy mist clung to every hair on bare skin and the drumming of heartbeat became the rhythm in which Jackie fell in time with. She jerked, ducking beneath a low hanging branch. Her hair whipped as she cast a worried glance over her shoulder. It wasn’t following her anymore.

A disgruntled skunk and her litter of kits watched her sprint from the home they made in a thicket of bushes. If she had stuck around for just a second longer, Jackie would have paid dearly for her grave mistake. Up on [the mountain], there wasn’t a proper shower to be had at the lookout. In fact, there was almost no running water to be had at all. That’s exactly how she preferred it - being one with nature in every sense of the word.

“Fuck-” A patch of thick mud sent her sliding into the wooden Trail 46 sign that pointed southeast. Jackie held on to it, leaning over with her chest heaving while she caught her breath. A spring of curled hair fell over her forehead from under the brim of her uniform hat. Taking one last deep breath, she swept it back under and ran her hands along her two thick braids to make sure her rubber bands were still attached to the ends.

Static crackled from the radio on her hip. A voice snickered at her from the other end.

“I didn’t know you could run that fast,” the voice teased her, his laughter turning into crackles. Jackie lifted her head and dragged her eyes along the ridge behind her. Ancient trees and wild brush lined the rocky ledge. She squinted, trying to make sense of the map of greens and browns. Despite her year of working in Wyoming, she struggled making out shapes in the woods that weren’t blocky signs. “Surprised you didn’t lose your hat.”

Jackie unhooked her radio and held it up to her mouth. It trilled and went quiet. “Where are you? I swear to god, Benny, if you scare me again you owe me a cone at Marie Bettie’s on Monday.”

She stood there, a hand on her hip and her radio up by her ear. A crease formed between her brows. Birds flit from tree to tree down Trail 42, drawing her eye. Frowning, she didn’t see Benny there. Nor did he respond on the radio. She hesitantly clicked it again. “Benny I’m not playing. Where the hell are you?” She couldn’t hear herself on the other end. Wherever he was hiding, he had turned off his radio so she couldn’t gauge where he was.

Stepping out into the middle of the trail, Jackie circled around like an uneasy horse, feet pressed firmly into the packed dirt. A small creature of amber red and white darted out from a nearby thicket of prickly bushes and skittered across the trail. She gasped, nearly jumping out of her skin. While distracted, a pair of hands touched down on her shoulders, fingers curling over her uniform.

Jackie screeched, launching herself forwards out of the grip of the intruder. The ranger hat on her head tipped off, rolling and bouncing off the gravel. Her arms barely caught her in time to save her face from getting superficial scratches. Squirming, she rolled onto her back and scrambled into a squat. Benny stood there, cackling loud enough to send a few birds flying from their nests in the trees. His smile took up most of his face. Smile lines deepend and the prominent gap between his teeth was on full display.

“I got you good, didn’t I?” He leaned in, holding a hand out for her. Despite the adrenaline soaring through her veins and the annoyance that tumbled within her, Jackie sighed and grasped at it for help off the ground. Freckles splattered his sun-kissed skin, his cheekbones turning to apples with his grin.

“Yeah, yeah. You owe me two cones, now, Wonderbird. Double scoops.”

“Hey, that’s not fair! You know volunteers don’t make squat here-” Benny stooped down to pick up her hat, dusting it off for her. It was true. When he first joined the park just six months ago, Jackie had been assigned as his mentor. The junior program was offered to any college students pursuing their line of work. To get a taste of life as a ranger. They didn’t make a salary, but their summers spent in action were funded by park leadership in the form of bunks and food. A far better deal than what was offered to her in Tennessee. She took up her hat and repositioned it proudly on top of her head. “But I guess it’s the least I could do for doing that.” He pointed down at her green trousers.

A small tear cut across her knee, thankfully protecting her skin from being lacerated by her fall. Sighing, Jackie lifted her leg and inspected the hole. “Luckily I brought my sewing kit with me to the tower. C’mon, let’s finish our rounds. Think the captain has extra radios for tonight? Last thing I want is to not be able to contact anyone - especially this weekend.”

The end of summer break brought in the most guests outside of the spring season. Mostly college students looking to get out of town, but not willing to commit to the cost of going to the Bahamas or Miami all the way down south. Jackie couldn’t remember most of the breaks from her college days. She crunched to get through with her degree as fast as possible. Any break she got was filled with studying or working wherever she could. She would have liked to go somewhere tropical and warm for her breaks, but she preferred the serenity that usually came with visiting state parks instead.

“How many people usually camp here during breaks?” Benny kicked a pale gray pebble into the grass alongside the pack dirt walking trail.

“Could be hundreds. Maybe even close to a thousand or more. Really depends.” Earlier that day, they had already received an influx of campers eager to stake their claim on the best spots in the park before the hoards arrived. Easily several dozen of them, all scattered between RV hookups, the rentable cabins and clearings for tents. “Just be glad you’re not working at any of the offices this weekend. I’d take firewatch over disgruntled campers any day.”

“I can’t thank you enough, you know.” An elbow bumped Jackie’s arm and she glanced at the grinning young man. “If it weren’t for you, Richards probably would’ve never let me take over tower 24. He told me you put in a good word for me.”

Smiling down at the ground, Jackie shrugged and reached out to give him a gentle pat on the shoulder. “It wasn’t all me. You’ve got the passion for this. The drive. Can’t say the same for some of the other volunteers-”

A trill of squealing laughter caught her attention. The two of them paused right at the fork. One path remained wide open with wooden signs encouraging guests to stay on the correct path. The other had overgrowth and a dirt path so narrow, one could hardly call it a trail at all. The usual rope gate meant to block it off had been cut. Both ends laid useless on the ground with frayed edges. Another bark of laughter came from the end it shouldn’t have.

“Damn…” Jackie muttered bitterly under her breath. Just when she thought they could wrap up for the afternoon. Benny puffed out his chest and stood up taller.

“C’mon, ranger,” he chirped, marching towards the rocky side path. “No dilly dallying!”

“You just want to write up a citation.” She snorted and followed alongside him. “You’re starting to sound like the captain.”

Snaking down the path, the trees overhead grew thicker and wider. Branches from lowly pines scraped against their arms. Creatures that remained unseen skittered into their hiding places. The closer they got to the three or four voices chattering away up ahead, the more signs they saw. Brand new, the signs were nailed into the untouched bark of the trees along the path or plastered on wooden signs hammered into the thick dirt.

WARNING: do not proceed! This area has been sanctioned for investigation by the State of Wyoming and local police. Any violations will result in a $500 fine.

“Have these signs always been here?” Benny’s voice lowered to a faint whisper. Jackie stepped carefully around a pile of stones gathered around the base of a thick oak. Her boots slid against their jagged surfaces. “I don’t remember them putting these up.

“I don’t either. I remember some feds were here on Wednesday, but they weren’t up for much small talk.” They stood proudly in their dark suits and shade, holding boxes of flyers and paperwork and speaking in hushed tones to her higher ups. The single chance she had to greet one of them was met with silence. Very rude. “I don’t think this was a missing person’s case, otherwise we would have been informed about it.”

Like something out of a sci-fi movie, bright yellow caution signs littered a shady grove at the end of the short path. The sound of water trickling from a nearby stream joined the quiet voices. The blocky lettering on the big yellow signs yelled at them.

DO NOT DRINK THE WATER! Do not disturb local flora as issued by the governor of Wyoming.

“Dude! You’re going to get us in trouble!” A nervous voice murmured beyond the trees. There, by the creek, four college aged kids stood around a mossy puddle. Two girls and two boys, all wearing their UW school colors. Most likely freshmen given their wide eyes and round faces. One of them stood with his jeans rolled up to his knees in the shallow water, a fist full of curling brown mushrooms that looked like kelp. They went silent at the sight of the two rangers.

“This path is restricted.” Benny took the initiative, his voice wavering just a bit at the end of his statement. Jackie let him take the reins. If he really wanted to do this for a living, he would have to get used to this. As he went over what rules they broke being there, she made her way over to a damp patch of tall grass between two moss covered trees.

Squatting, she spied even more kelp-like mushrooms. They stuck out of the grass like limp, decaying fingers out of a grave. Jackie narrowed her eyes and used a pen from her breast pocket to jab at it with as gentle of a touch as she could manage. It released a pussy substance and a musky scent that reminded her of the single frat party she attended her last year in school. Similar to weed, but different. From looks alone, she couldn’t nail down from which family this fungus derived from. In fact, she couldn’t recall anything remotely similar in all her years of study.

“You can’t do that.” The kid in the water whined, trudging out of the water. He tossed the picked mushrooms. “C’mon, man, we’re just trying to have a little fun! I gotta pay for books next week!”

Jackie looked over her shoulder in time to see Benny’s head fall like a disappointed teacher’s. He sighed and shifted his weight from foot to foot, unable to reply. Tucking her pen back into its spot, she dusted her hands off and stood.

“Here’s what we’re going to do-” She put her hands on her hips and took over for him. She spoke with authority and a rigid stance. “I’ll let you off with a warning, as long as you four keep to the official trails and stay out of trouble. If me or any of my associates catch you out of bounds again, it’ll be a $700 ticket. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The kid slipped his wet feet into his Nike sandals and hung his head. Blonde hair stuck to his pink face and despite his towering height over her, he still looked like a boy. It only made her feel older than she was. The other three murmured in agreement, following behind him. She watched them shuffle up the path until they disappeared behind a thicket of pines.

“I thought I could do it,” Benny sighed, his head swiveling side to side, checking for litter or anything else the rowdy guests may have left behind. Jackie moved to stand beside him and ruffled his mess of red hair. The way his nose scrunched and his shoulders relaxed from the playful exchange reminded her so much of Andre back at home.

“You did better than I did the first time I tried writing a citation - I cried.” Her sidekick blinked, surprised, and chuckled.

“But you’re so good at it. You’ve got a mom voice - in a good way, I mean.”

“Geez, I’m not that old, Wonderbird. First them, and now you? I’m aging by the second. You’ll have to explain to Richards why my knees are bad and my hair is graying when summer’s over, you dingus.”

Benny all but collapsed forward with laughter, holding his stomach and slapping his knee like a cheery grandfather. Jackie smiled so wide her cheeks ached. She had to avert her gaze to not let the homesickness creep in. She would miss him when he had to go back to school. Just like she missed Andre.

The mushrooms among the grass piqued her curiosity again. She stooped down beside them and inspected them without touching. Who knew what they did and who knew why the government and college kids were so interested in them.

“What are they? They were grabbing a lot of them.” Benny squatted next to her, reaching out to touch one. Jackie gently smacked the back of his hand and shook her head.

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t touch them. Let’s get to the office, the captain’s waiting for us by now.”

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star-wars-scribbles-ff · 4 years

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Clone Log Series | 1 | Trapper

(click for better quality 👀)

Note: This is the beginning of a new series I want to write that was inspired by a short scene from Star Wars: Tales from The Clone Wars Webcomic Collection Season 1 - Prelude: Cold Snap, you can find more about that HERE.

The first Clone I’ve chosen for this series is Trapper! For those who aren’t familiar with this fellow, Trapper is an ARF Trooper with the 212th Recon Division and served at the Second Battle of Geonosis. He was the only survivor alongside Obi-Wan Kenobi when their LAAT/i crashed on Geonosis, en-route to RV Point Rain.

Taglist: @divergent-llamas-03 @remadster @tallyquark @thisistheendtimes (There was an update to the taglist options, so please feel free to revisit it HERE if you’d like to make changes to your form 💗 )

Note/Disclaimer: This fic contains both canon and fanon material. Trapper doesn’t have a canon CT number, so the one listed is entirely fanon and not official by any means. Lance is a clone OC of mine.

I’d heard stories about the Battle of Geonosis from veterans. It was the first time the Grand Army had seen combat, and apparently despite simulations training, nothing could quite prepare them for the hell that was Geonosis. I wasn’t there - wasn’t even a year out from graduating - but my former CO, Commander Ponds… he was there. Every clone knew- you didn’t inquire about previous campaigns unless it was logistically necessary, especially from a Commander, but on occasion he’d share bits and pieces.

Following the GAR’s first sight of war, countless changes were made to the training that clones received on Kamino. Apparently there were things we just weren’t thoroughly being prepared for, but despite that fact, they were rushing us off the assembly line so fast most of us never really finished out training anyhow. Not completely at least.

I still remember when we graduated, Lance. It all happened so quickly. We were on a cruiser heading for Coruscant before any of us really got to process the first accomplishment of our lives.

I don’t know why I’m addressing this to you, Lance. I guess… It’s just been a while since we got to catch up. Before we even landed on Coruscant we all got word of our placement in the GAR. You were off to the 212th Attack Battalion, I was transferred to the 91st Reconnaissance Corps, and the rest of the squad stayed together under the 327th Star Corps. I never thought I’d hear from the others again, and I thought the same about you.

As long as I’m writing this to you, I might as well fill you in. Things were pretty slow in the 91st Recon Corps for the first month or two, that is, until we got deployed to Malastare. That was my first time seeing combat. I still remember staring down the Separatist line. They outnumbered us ten to one. I lost a lot of brothers in that massacre, despite not knowing any of them for very long.

Somewhere along the line, whispers began to spread. It was no secret we were losing the battle. The Separatists had launched a hefty operation to drain the Republic of its fuel supplies that were made available by the current treaty with the Dugs, and they were doing a hell of a job pushing us back to the Capital.

I wasn’t in the know, but I’d overheard from a Sergeant that the Republic was issuing the use of a prototype bomb to be used as a last ditch effort to push the Separatist line back. Sounded like a long shot. Word spread fast and eventually all military forces on Malastare were debriefed on what was to happen. Commander Ponds issued a statement to the 91st Recon Corps forces, that we were to hold the line until the bomb’s drop. The bomb was said to produce an electro-magnetic field that would expand from the impact zone. It had to be a hell of a bomb to match the diameter of the Separatist line.

When the bomb hit, the electro-magnetic pulse emitted from it knocked out the clankers, but did hell to the sound dampeners in our buckets. Few boys had their eardrums burst. I guess that wasn’t something they accounted for.

Despite that fact though, the bomb did do its intended job, and wiped out ninety percent of the Separatist forces; I have to admit I was impressed and would have remained so… If not for what came after. While the electro-magnetic field resulted in the deactivation of all Separatist forces, the detonation of the bomb created a sinkhole bigger than the underworld portals on Coruscant. It swallowed what was left of the clankers along with countless men… too many to count. I was close to the sinkhole and managed to outrun its increasing diameter as it swallowed everything in its path… I can still hear the screams of those who weren’t so lucky.

Victory wasn’t a word any of us were able to consider. Not after that. For those few seconds before the crater began, a rush of relief washed over all of us; you could almost see it in the way our postures relaxed, and some of us even let out relieved chuckles or held breath. The Dugs were already celebrating the victory in the following seconds before it happened. It sounded like a crack of lightning coursed through my body; the ground jolted so hard some of us lost our footing. Seconds. It wasn’t more than thirty seconds between the bomb’s detonation and the crater’s formation, although it felt like so much longer.

For almost thirty minutes the crater was surrounded by a massive cloud of dust too thick to breathe. Most of us couldn’t speak in the time following the proton bomb’s encore. Talk about a slap in the face, Lance. Most of us thought it was a sick joke. Price of victory, eh?

Well apparently that wasn’t one of the outcomes the Republic accounted for either. Following the settling of the new geographic monument, I was chosen alongside a couple other troopers to investigate the crater. Word was that high command had lost contact with the rescue team, and General Windu accompanied us, as did Commander Ponds to look for the lost search party.

Its all a bit blurry from there. We ended up finding the rescue party but… We didn’t end up getting any of those men out of there. It became apparent rather quickly that we were trespassing on a certain creature’s territory. It all happened so fast; the General had a few men stay behind with what was left of the rescue party while we searched the area. By the time it became evident of what we were dealing with, we were running towards the extraction point, and General Skywalker was distracting the creature with his starfighter… We left all those men behind. Granted it would have been close to impossible to extract them all without losing men, but… We didn’t even try. Aside from the General and the Commander, Hawkeye and I were the only ones to make it out.

We all have those moments, when that guilt always rears its ugly head. I just wonder if the officers ever feel the same, or if its just us foot soldiers who feel it.

The creature we encountered was called a Zillo Beast. I’ve sure as hell never heard of it. No one else seemed to have prior to its unexpected appearance. We ended up taking the damn thing too; back to Coruscant no less. I’ll tell ya, Lance… Sometimes I question the sanity behind some of these decisions. It isn’t my place, but you can’t help but consider it.

I don’t know where you were, but I was on Coruscant when the Beast got loose. I wish I could describe or explain the chaos that ensued, but we felt like a bunch of loth cats trying to wrangle a rancor; it just wasn’t plausible.

Cleanup after the Zillo Beast incident was thankfully, not our job. It was within the week following that event that I got news of my transfer. Apparently something big was going down somewhere, and troopers were being shifted around to handle a coming campaign.

While I wish I could say I felt something when I got the news, I’d lost so many comrades that there were few left that I was truly acquainted with in my company. Ninety percent of the company was made up of new batches coming in, so when i left, I admit I wasn’t completely against it.

I was transferred to the 212th Attack Battalion’s Recon Division, under General Kenobi and Marshal Commander Cody. Gotta admit… I felt a bit hypocritical joining this Battalion. Everyone talked trash about other battalions, especially the 212th and even the 501st Legion. It was all in good fun, but they were pretty photogenic. They were the face of the Republic Military on the HoloNet news and saw some of the biggest battles of the war.

Joining their ranks, I don’t know how I felt. Out of place was one word for it. Everyone was welcoming enough. Transfers happened all the time, it wasn’t customary to alienate other troopers just arriving, but it was always awkward. Every Battalion had its own way of doing things.

I was on the Venator-class cruiser, The Negotiator, as soon as my transfer was put in and we were off to… somewhere. Arriving at the barracks, the last thing I honestly expected was seeing you across from my bunk, Lance.

I wouldn’t have said it out loud, but I liked it better not knowing where you were and whether or not you were alive. Now I knew I’d either see you go down or you’d see me. You probably noticed my hesitation to be content to see you. Thankfully the arrival of the new armor sets prevented anything awkward, although now I would give anything to go back and have interaction, awkward or not.

ARF armor… That was one way to tell someone they were receiving a promotion of sorts. Although I assume they just needed to outfit the foot soldiers in something that resembled the terrain we would encounter. Whispers were saying Geonosis, but I was one of the few that didn’t believe it. We’d conquered Geonosis, there was no reason to go back, right?

Heh, wrong. Commander Cody debriefed everyone in the hanger. We were heading to Geonosis. There we were briefed on the plan, and our teams. At the time, I was thankful we were both on a gunship together. I’d give anything to go back and have you put on a different transport. If we crash I’ll need someone to drag my body out of the mud. You have a really sick sense of humor y’know; always have, even during cadet training. I remember when you joked about getting a ninety-five percent on one of our firearms performance tests: Guess I’m getting terminated, you had joked. You di’kut… Can’t believe you made it to graduation considering how often you talked smack.

Oh, di’kut… It means fool. Yeah, I learned that from this uh… Girl - a retired mercenary - working with the GAR. Apparently she’s held up with the 212th more often than not, so maybe you know who I’m talking about.

Loading onto that gunship, I remember feeling surprised when General Obi-Wan Kenobi headed for our LAAT/i with Commander Cody at his side. You’d knocked my arm to get my attention, like I wasn’t already looking.

When we’re on the ground you better watch my six, you’d said. I’d rolled my eyes. First time we’d seen each other in months and you were already back to your old games. I’m warning ya, Trapper, my aim has improved since cadet training.

So I only have to carry half of your weight now- I’d countered.

When the General had climbed aboard the gunship, most chatter quieted but continued. After taking off, it got quiet. We knew the landing zone would be hot, and there was no doubt many of the shuttles would be downed on the initial assault.

Despite the odds, you never think its going to be you. You can’t afford to think like that, so you don’t. That is, until your LAAT/i is hit, and you find yourself holding onto whatever you can as your gunship hurtles uncontrollably towards the ground.

I remember hearing the General yelling out over the comms, getting word to the Marshal Commander.

We’re hit- We’re going down! It felt like an eternity as our shuttle crashed. It was probably the first time I was truly terrified. Everything was out of my control. At least when a creature the size of a large-class freighter is coming after you, you can run out of its way. This was different. I’d heard a horror story or two of troopers crashing in gunships. Details I couldn’t stop replaying in my head as we hurtled towards the ground.

You were next to me, I think. Somewhere along the line the stabilizers gave out, and the gunship went into a sort of barrel roll. I don’t remember the impact.

The holovids always depict death, or even near-death experiences like this peaceful, dreamlike state. I thought that was bantha fodder, but it almost makes me laugh - because it actually was, Lance. It was just like that.

I remember it only in simple terms, but for some reason, before waking up, I remember hearing General Shaak Ti’s graduation speech. Her words, as brief as they were, inspired us. We all felt like we were going out to make a difference, restore peace… be the good guys.

The naivety of it makes me chuckle.

Canon fire landing in the dirt a few meters from our downed LAAT/i was what interrupted that dream-like state. The pressure on my chest was the first prominent thing that invaded my mind; it was sharp and intense. Broken ribs most likely. It took a few struggling moments before I could recover a breath, and even longer before I was able to get my vision to focus. Concussion most likely. The Medic had told me my half-conscious state most likely kept me from going into shock, if I had, my broken ribs may have punctured a lung.

When my eyes had finally focused, and I was able to loosely make out what was around me, it was dark. Slivers of light illuminated the space enough for me to know we were on the ground, but something wasn’t right because it was too quiet. My first thought was that they’d mistaken me as dead and moved out… I wish that was the reality of the situation. Maker knows I would give anything for that to have been the case.

By the time my HUD came back online, I was coming to terms with reality. I could see the troopers scattered about the gunship. With the blast doors closed, there weren’t many places to go. One trooper was draped partially over my legs, and others covered the ground of the ship. What startled me most was when I turned and saw General Kenobi seated next to me, head hung over. He was unconscious.

At that point I was just surprised to be alive, and maybe even relieved… Then my HUD began reading vital signs. One by one all of the troopers came back negative. At first I couldn’t find you, Lance. Part of me didn’t want to, why would I? The odds weren’t great, so I may have avoided looking towards the other side of the LAAT/i for a while.

With a series of blinks, I accessed the Officer's frequency channel for communications. I don’t know how long I spent trying to contact someone, anyone. Priority was to inform the next in command that the General was incapacitated.

From the sounds of cannon fire, it seemed we were right in the thick of it. I could distinctly hear our AT-Te cannons, but I could also hear enemy munitions from behind us. We weren’t in a great spot, that was for sure.

As the minutes passed, the pain became more prominent. My neck hurt, and the rest of my body was sluggish to respond. I could move my legs, thankfully, but a trooper pinning them prevented me from doing much.

With little to do about the fact, I had no choice but to hold tight and keep trying to contact command. It felt like auto-pilot. Maybe it was just me trying to ignore the fact that I was surrounded by dead men… maybe something else. At that point I just couldn’t… I couldn’t consider you being dead too. I knew there was a good chance you were, but part of me continued to hold out hope that you went for help; maybe woke up before I did, realized comms were down before going to get the Commander for support.

By the time the General awoke, I had given up trying to get word out. He had begun to stir and I’d spoken up, inquiring if he was alright before his eyes had opened.

A slight twitch in his expression and crinkle around one eye revealed he was in some sort of pain. Later it was obvious he had sustained similar injuries to myself, but in the moment I had no way of knowing how far off he was.

His gaze was alert rather quickly however, and he cleared his throat before confirming my question. I suppose I could be better, he had let out a strained chuckle. He craned his neck to look around before he looked at me.

I have to admit it was odd, to have a General’s attention on me and me alone. Are you alright? He’d asked. I hadn’t spoken one-on-one with a General before. The most I could throw together was a nod before I finally got a hold of myself and confirmed I was fine.

A cannon blast struck nearby, and the rumble of the ground shook the gunship, causing dust and sand to fall from nooks in the ceiling.

It appears I’ve had a late start, The General had surveyed the area before he turned his attention towards me, and I prepared to tell him we were the only survivors.

Trapper isn’t it? The question had caught me off guard. I’d been a part of the battalion no longer than one standard rotation, and the General knew my name… Almost made me chuckle on the spot.

Yes sir, I’d said. Comms are down; something’s interfering. Sir, I can’t get word out to the Commander of our status.

Well if I know Cody, he’ll be keeping an eye out for us. Not to worry. He was trying to reassure me, that was evident. We’re the only ones. It’d been a statement, and observation. The Jedi always had a way of knowing it seemed.

...Yes sir, I’d responded.

I’ve yet to experience something quite like my time in that crashed LAAT/i; knowing the fight was raging around me, I had to be on my guard incase the fight came to the crashed gunship, but in the majority of those moments, the eerie silence of the enclosed space far surpassed that of the sounds of blaster and cannon fire outside.

At that moment I’d tested moving my legs. I was able to, but I didn’t want to disturb the body of the soldier, my comrade and brother, just yet. Now that the General was awake however, the reality of the situation suddenly dawned on me in a different light.

With some effort, I sat forward and proceeded to move him to the side so he was lying on the ground near my legs. After making sure his body was settled, I rested back against the wall, letting out a controlled breath. I didn’t know his name. Part of me was glad that I didn’t.

Cannon fire continued to rage on both sides of the transport as the minutes passed, and one thing that was becoming clear, was that the enemy fire seemed to be coming closer.

Sounds like the enemy is making headway, I tried to break the silence in the most respectful way possible. The General didn’t look to be in the best shape. The only plea I had was that the General not die before I do. I’d hoped the universe would spare me that much. The number one rule amongst us clones is to never let the General go down on your watch, I know you know that much, Lance. If you did leave to get help I sure as hell was hoping you’d get back before then. With how the General was looking, he was having difficulty remaining completely aware.

It appears so, Trapper, The General had responded, craning to listen for a time before he turned his gaze towards me. He looked weak. It was hard to witness a General, a Jedi, in such a position.

I knew I needed to get up and go get help. I knew no one had gone and I was the only remaining trooper from the transport capable of bringing help, as much as I didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that I was alone. It was just a matter of being able to support my own weight long enough to get the blast doors open.

I admire your determination, Trapper. The General’s words yet again caught me off guard. But you are in no condition to take such chances, just as I am. I believe our best chance is to wait a bit longer.

I didn’t know if the General was right in the head, but Jedi had their ways. And safe to say- as much as I wanted to, I wasn’t going anywhere. Not on my own power alone at least.

If you say so, sir. I appeased him, but quietly questioned his clarity. He probably knew I was too, but he didn’t go to speak about it thankfully.

I admit I was hesitantly surprised when the doors to our down gunship were pried open minutes later. Two troopers I didn’t recognize were responsible, not that I was complaining.

Waxer, Boil, The General didn’t seem to need more than a moment to identify them. Another thing Jedi were good at. General Windu once told Hawkeye that our- what was the word- aura? Or maybe an impression? Yeah. Like all living things, we left an impression in the force that made it relatively easy for the Jedi to identify us. I guess that has a ring of bittersweet irony to it; we may all have the same face, but our Jedi generals don’t need physically distinguishable markings to identify us, because as he put it, through the force, we’re all rather different.

Am I glad to see you. Trapper and I are the only ones still alive.

Good to see you, sir.

I wish I could say I was paying attention when my two comrades hauled us up to our feet. But I knew in that moment that I was about to break my promise to you. Is it cliché to say I felt completely helpless? If not for my condition you know I’d have dragged whatever was left of you back to the RV point.

Before we left that gunship, I saw you… Hunched over at the head of the transport space. I knew you were there the whole time; knew my HUD had identified you… I’d just hoped I wasn’t right in the head. But I knew I was the only trooper leaving the gunship alive. I just wish I had known when I got on that gunship, what was coming.

Waxer was the trooper who got me back to Point Rain in one piece. I don’t know how we did it, but it felt like it took an hour to get back to the square. Thankfully we still had a hell of a fight ahead, and I didn’t have time to mull over my situation. When the reinforcements finally arrived at the last possible second, there was still a lot to do. It wasn’t until the Separatist energy shield was destroyed that they started rotating out spots of leave to us troopers, and I finally got the break I was dreading.

I’m starting to feel stupid writing to you, Lance, I gotta admit. Its not like you missed much in that gunship but… Turns out the company I was assigned to was completely wiped out on Geonosis. Another gunship transporting a portion of the company crashed, killing everyone, and the rest died defending RV Point Rain. I had to report to the Marshal Commander for instruction on who to report to. I don’t wanna brag, but you know I’m gonna - he kept me pretty close for the remainder of the campaign; even brought me along on a lovely rescue mission of General Unduli that I’d rather not talk about. That’s a whole ‘nother story.

Sitting alone in the mess on the cruiser after the battle came to a close, Commander Cody approached me… told me he was going to reassign me soon. Before leaving he told me writing is apparently a good way to speak what we can’t verbally put into words. I guess he knew I was… on my own. So you’re stuck listening to me ramble I guess. Serves you right for leaving me here along, mate. I know you’d hit me for feeling guilty about leaving you there… You know I’d have dragged you outta there if I had been able to hold my own weight, let alone yours…

I hope you don’t mind, but I’ll keep you updated on things going forward. Commander Cody assigned me to Ghost Company, so I imagine I’ll be seeing some action. You’d be jealous beyond words, I know, so don’t worry - I’ll keep you posted.

CT-4473, Trapper 212th Attack Battalion, Ghost Company

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walkerwords · 4 years

Text

“Careful You” Part 1 of 2 - Shane x F!Reader, Daryl x F!Reader

PART II

Request from anonymous: A Shane x reader x Daryl where reader and Shane we’re together since the beginning but reader realized he’s becoming an ass and Daryl (who the reader secretly likes) says “I know you ain’t in love with him” pretty please??? Thank you!!!!

Word Count: 5063

Warning: Cursing, Violence

Song I Wrote To: “Careful You” by TV On The Radio

Note: So yes! This will be a two-part request story. I got hella carried away with this one and I didn’t wanna post the whole thing so part 1 today and part 2 tomorrow! I’m sorry if ya like Shane but hes an asshole in this at times. It jumps around a bit from the quarry to the cdc to the highway to the greene farm. The real emotional stuff is in part two so I hope yall like this. reminder: I may not fill every request, ill only pick the ones I know I can make somethin good, but still send them!

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You began to notice a change in Shane when Rick Grimes was reunited with his family.

Before the world turned, you, Shane, Rick, and Lori were the best of friends. It was always double dates after work and the four of you planning Carl’s birthday parties. It was Rick and Lori and Shane and you, no matter what. Shane Walsh wasn’t an easy man to love, but love him, you did.

The first time you saw him it was at a bar in downtown Atlanta. Rick and Shane were out in the city for a weekend to celebrate some kind of achievement they got from the Academy. You had noticed his dark hair and dashing smile from across the room and as soon as your eyes met, you were done. Shane Walsh became your person and you never thought anything would get in between the two of you. And nothing did...until the end of the world.

You weren’t an idiot, you knew about Shane and Lori. Hell, you probably knew about his attraction to her before she did. You ignored it the best you could before the world ended, but now it was hard to ignore the fact that your boyfriend, the man you loved, was in love with another woman.

A married woman.

Then when Rick stepped out of that truck and Carl ran from Lori’s arms, the ground rocked beneath your feet. When you had hugged him once his family had let go, it was more than relief that cascaded over you, it was gratitude. With Rick back, there wouldn’t be time for Shane to gawk at his best friend’s girl, let alone sneak off into the woods with her. Hopefully, things would start to go back to normal.

However, whenever Lori was alone, Shane was still there. He would be watching her, looking out for Carl, and he’d do it right in front of Rick. Rick didn’t seem to notice and if he did, he ignored it and acted as if everything was the way it once was. It pissed you off to see him act so naive, but you figured he didn’t want to start anything. The last thing any of you needed was in-fighting within the group.

However, it didn’t take long for said in-fighting to start. Especially once Daryl Dixon came back from his hunt. You had met both of the Dixon brothers the day they arrived at the camp. Merle was an asshole and immediately began hitting on you. Shane had shut that down within a few seconds, making sure the older Dixon knew that you were his girl and to keep his paws and his mouth to himself. It was one of the only times Shane had claimed you in front of the group.

As for Daryl, you weren’t sure about where his head was at. He followed his brother closely and you figured he had been doing so his entire life. Daryl was his brother’s opposite. While he still had a mouth on him when he did happen to speak up, he didn’t purposefully inject himself into conversations or make lewd remarks at the women in the camp. He kept his head down and his crossbow up when it was warranted. He was also great at hunting and had taken the job of getting food for the group.

Carl had once told you that he thought Daryl was “cool”, but that he kind of scared him. You had laughed and assured the kid, whom you considered a nephew, not to worry. Dixon may be a bit rough around the edges, but he was harmless. Though you made sure to tell him to steer clear of Merle and Carl didn’t argue about that.

The other thing you noticed about Daryl was that he always seemed to know where you were. You had noticed him watching you in the camp. At first, it was simple glances here and there and then his eyes started to linger more and more. You considered telling him not to due to how Shane normally reacted whenever another man looked at you, but whenever you turned to look at your boyfriend, his eyes would be on Lori and you would give up and go talk to Andrea or Amy to pass the time.

You had only spoken to Daryl a couple of times. Once when you had run into him as he walked back to camp carrying rabbits on a line. You heard a rustle in the trees and pulled your weapon, a police-issued pistol Shane had given you after the Turn. Daryl froze as the barrel became trained on him. You dropped it immediately. “Shit, sorry,” you had said.

“Careful where ya point that thing, girl,” Daryl had scoffed. “Don’t need my damn head blown off cause ya trigger happy.” You had rolled your eyes and holstered your gun.

“Such a charmer, Dixon,” you told him and left him with his fresh kill. That night after your run-in in the woods was when he first started watching you. The other times you had spoken to him were just in passing and it was always when both Merle and Shane weren’t there. It seemed like your friendship, if you could call it that, was only acknowledged when the alpha males in both of your lives took a hike. And while it bothered you, you accepted it. It’s just the way the world was now.

On the day that Rick told you all that they had left Merle in Atlanta, you knew Daryl was going to be pissed and he definitely was. You watched from the doorway to the RV as Daryl yelled at Rick. The emotion was clear on his face as he thought about his brother being chained to the roof like an animal as he waited to be eaten by Walkers.

When Daryl had thrown a punch and Shane placed him in the chokehold, that is when you stepped in. You shoved Rick back and knocked Shane’s feet from under him. Daryl and Shane went down hard on the ground and Daryl shoved out of Walsh’s arms. “Stop it!” you yelled, getting between the men. “None of this alpha-male bullshit is helping anyone. Rick,” you said, looking at him, “you screwed up. Merle screwed up. It was bound to happen at some point! So instead of acting like idiots, do something.” You then turned and offered your hand to Daryl who took it and you helped him to his feet.

You watched as Daryl stormed off and without thinking, you followed him, ignoring Shane’s calls. You found him as he exited his tent on the edge of the camp. He was throwing things into a backpack and gathering up his bolts for his bow. “Daryl,” you said. He looked up at you and scoffed.

“Don’t need yer sympathy, girl,” he shot at you. “Don’t need ya fightin’ my battles either. I can handle yer damn boyfriend.”

“Never said you couldn’t,” you said. “Shane is a hothead and yeah, Rick can be an asshole, but they mean well.”

“Yer friend Rick left my brother to die!” he yelled, pointing over your shoulder.

“I know,” you said, trying to calm him down, but Daryl marched up to you, getting in your face and looking you over.

“You know nothin’,” he snarled in a low voice before pushing past you, knocking into your shoulder. You pushed your hands into your hair as you took a deep breath.

“(Y/N)!” you turned to see Shane walking towards you.

“What now?” you asked, not wanting to start another argument.

“You need to stay away from Dixon,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Excuse me?” you asked, mirroring his stance. “I don’t need to do anything, Walsh,” you said. “He’s pissed about Merle. What if it was me or Rick that was left on that rooftop? You’d be pretty pissed too.”

“Don’t loop me in with him,” Shane said with a touch of disgust. You rolled your eyes. “What?”

“I’m just sick of people acting like there aren’t worse problems out there than a few petty arguments or having to be with people you don’t like.” You relaxed your arms and reached for his hands and he let you. You squeezed Shane’s hands tight in your own, looking into his eyes. “Shane, there are monsters walking around and we need to start thinking about how to protect our people from them. How to protect the kids like Carl and Sophia.”

“What do you think I’ve been doin’?” he asked, his voice softer. “That’s all I’ve been tryin’ to do, (Y/N).”

“I know, but sometimes you try to take on too much by yourself. Let others take some of the weight, okay? I’m here and now so is Rick. You have Dale and Glenn who are always willin’ to help. Lori, too. Stop trying to be Superman.” Shane looked at you for a moment before he nodded. He then tugged you forward and kissed you firmly. When he pulled away, he leaned his forehead on yours.

“Rick is gonna take Daryl back, go look for Merle,” Shane said quietly.

“Are you goin’ with?” you asked.

“No, I’m stayin’ here to protect the camp,” he then leaned back and looked at you with a fierce look in his eyes. “And so are you.” You knew there was no point in arguing so with a sigh you nodded. He pressed another kiss to your lips before leaving you alone. As Shane walked away, you caught Daryl watching you from where he stood next to Glenn. You couldn’t read his expression, but there was an intensity to it that had you turning away from him.

However, there was a feeling that his eyes remained fixed on you even as you headed into the tent you shared with Shane.

-------

Of course, it wasn’t long until things got worse.

While Daryl, Glenn, Rick, and the others were out looking for Merle, Shane was following Lori around like a lost dog while you distracted Carl, trying to keep his mind off his father leaving again. When you had first met the smallest Grimes, he took to you immediately. You weren’t just Uncle Shane’s girlfriend, Carl considered you family as well.

It was Carl who you were sitting with when the Walkers entered the camp. You heard the screams of panic first and you moved. Grabbing Carl by his collar, you pushed him behind you as you watched Andrea’s sister, Amy, get taken down by a Walker. Carl clutched the back of your jacket as you pulled your own weapon, taking aim at the monsters that converged on the quarry.

Shane was there in a second and he took out all the Walkers that surrounded the RV. He then pushed all the kids towards the vehicle, locking them inside as the rest of you aimed at the Dead. Only a moment later, shots were coming from another direction. Rick and the others came through the woods, their guns blazing. Their sudden appearance caused you to miss the Walker stumbling towards you. You raised your gun as it grabbed your shoulder, but a bolt flew past your ear and struck the Walker that clung to you. Daryl ran past you, giving you a once over before taking aim again.

Snapping out of your shock, you finished off the rest of the Walkers that feasted on your new comrades. A cry pulled your attention as you saw Carol staring at her now-dead husband. You had no remorse for Ed, he wasn’t a good man at all, but the heartbreak on both Carol and Sophia’s faces made you pause.

Once the Walkers were down and people had calmed down, you searched for Shane. You found him by the RV, moving the kids out and away from the body that lay before it. You didn’t need to look closer to know it was Amy. You turned away, looking for Carl and felt relief when you saw him with his parents as the three of them embraced. Looking back over your shoulder you saw Shane and how he watched the Grimes family. The envy in his eyes made you uneasy. He looked at the man he considered his brother as a rival now even though Lori was never his, to begin with. Again, you shoved down your feelings and went to help move the bodies out of the camp.

It was morning by the time everyone had sorted between the Dead. Two piles. One for friends to be buried and the other full of Walkers that were to be burned. You didn’t see the point in either practice. You knew that if you walked down the hill and onto the roads, bodies were strewn everywhere. It had simply become the new normal. However, you knew it was their way of trying to find some normalcy in the new screwed up world, but you couldn’t see it the way they could.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Andrea as she knelt over Amy’s body. You knew that she would turn any time now. It was already happening and it made you sick to think about someone you knew becoming one of those things. It was all just a bit too much at that moment.

You excused yourself and headed to the far side of the camp, settling down on a log, leaning your forearms on your knees. You took a few deep breaths and tried to focus on anything that wasn’t the memory of the screams of people being torn apart. The log shifted as someone took a spot next to you. You figured it was Shane so you ignored him. However, when you spotted the crossbow on the ground between their feet, you relaxed and turned to look at Daryl.

“Thanks for last night,” you said, breaking the silence. He grunted a response that you had become accustomed to. “What happened?” you asked, not needing to elaborate further. Everyone noticed that only one Dixon brother came back.

“He’s gone,” Daryl muttered, “cut his own damn hand off to get out of the cuffs.” Your brows shot up at that, but you weren’t that surprised. It sounded like something Merle Dixon would do.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, turning your face back towards the camp as Glenn dragged more bodies through the camp.

“What she waitin’ for?” Daryl asked as he looked at Andrea.

“People cope differently,” you said. “Maybe she just needs to see it for herself.”

“Don’t make sense,” he mumbled.

“I don’t get it either,” you sighed, “Dead is dead. Whatever this is…” you waved your hand vaguely at the Walker corpses, “They just need to be put down. Amy doesn’t deserve to become a monster.”

“I could probably hit her from here,” Daryl said, toeing his bow, but you shook your head.

“She nearly ripped Rick’s head off when he mentioned putting her down. We don’t need any more damn fighting,” you said with a warning tone. Daryl nodded and then was silent for a bit.

“I agree with ya, ya know?” Daryl said after a minute.

“About what?” you asked.

“Nobody deserves to be a Walker,” he clarified. “I wouldn’t want someone to wait, ya know?”

“I do,” you said, understanding. “Make me a deal, Dixon. If I get bit, you shoot me right away. Don’t let me turn,” you said, offering your hand. Daryl looked at you and then took your hand in his, gripping it tightly.

“Only if ya return the favor,” he said and you nodded. You shook hands and then let go, feeling Shane’s eyes on you. “Yer boy keeps starin’,” Daryl said.

“Yeah,” you said before you stood up, brushing off your jeans. “I’m holdin’ you to that promise.” He nodded to you again and you left him alone to his thoughts.

------

When Rick and Shane decided to go to the CDC, you were less than thrilled.

The last thing you wanted was to go back into the city. Considering the things you saw there the last time you were there, it wasn’t the most desirable plan. However, you knew that you were outnumbered, and with Jim trying to fight the infection, you went along with it.

Everyone knew that Jim wasn’t long for the world. The fever took him fast and you knew there wasn’t a cure. If there was one, every street in Atlanta wouldn’t be crawling with Walkers and littered with half-eaten bodies. Again, you also knew that it was all about optimism and Rick felt that this was the right choice.

Sitting in the RV, you leaned against Shane. He kept his arm wrapped around you and rubbed your arm and down the side of your thigh. It was nice to just sit with him for once instead of feeling the distance that had began to deepen between the two of you. Shane rested his head on your shoulder, kissing the place your neck met your shoulder and you sighed, resting your head against his chest. Carl was making kissing faces at the both of you and you stuck your tongue at him causing him to laugh.

“You trying to steal my girl, Grimes?” Shane teased the kid.

“(Y/N) likes me better!” Carl joked causing Shane to chuckle. He gripped you tighter, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Easy gentlemen,” you said with a smile. “I think we both know that Lori and I are the true soulmates.” Lori laughed at that.

“I’ll take that,” she laughed.

It was an easy ride from there on until Jim got worse. You all went from laughing and joking to feeling somber as Daryl, Rick, and Shane helped Jim off the road and under a tree. When they tried to hand him a weapon, Jim shook his head. Rick and Shane left him, giving him a final goodbye, but Daryl stalled, looking down at his bow and the dying man. He then turned and started to walk back to the truck. You stepped in his path, a pleading look in your eyes. He shook his head.

“It’s his choice, (Y/N),” Daryl said, knowing what you wanted to say. Daryl pushed past you as Jim closed his eyes. You fought the urge to yell as you made your way back into the RV. Instead of sitting back down with Shane, you went to the back and laid down, trying to drown out everything around you. You fell asleep as the RV rumbled beneath you, getting some decent rest for the first time in weeks.

Shane lightly shook you awake when the caravan finally came to a stop. The look on his face made you sit up quickly. “What is it?” you asked.

“Just...prepare yourself,” he said and offered his hand. You took it and he led you out of the RV. The smell was what hit you first and then you saw the source. Bodies were everywhere. Lori and Carol kept their arms around their children as your group moved through the rotting corpses. Daryl and Rick headed up the group while you and Shane took the rear, all of your weapons ready to fire if needed.

“I don’t like this,” you whispered to Shane as you stepped over another body.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep ya safe, (Y/L/N),” he joked, poking you in the ribs.

“It’s not funny, Shane,” you chastised. “I don’t like being out in the open like this. We’re vulnerable, especially with the kids.”

“Everything is gonna be fine,” Shane assured you. He winked at you and you pushed ahead of him as you started to hear groans and shuffling of the Dead as they noticed you moving towards the shuttered building. Daryl began taking them out while Rick yelled at the cameras. Lori urged her husband to leave it. Rick continued to yell, begging that whoever was inside to open the doors because they had children and they were desperate. You wanted to yell at him to shut up as more Walkers kept coming out of the shadows.

You stumble over a corpse, nearly going down when Carol caught your arm and pulled you back up. Daryl stepped in front of you then, covering you, Carol, and Sophia. Rick was still yelling and that was when Shane started too. He called to Rick, trying to get him to retreat, but before any of you could make your way back to the cars, the metal shudders slid open with blinding lights. You gawked at the sight and then you felt hands tugging you along as Shane gripped your wrist and pulled you through the mess of dead bodies and into the safety of the CDC.

------

Doctor Jenner was an odd one and you didn’t trust him.

Glenn, however, was thrilled at the promise of hot water, and then when the wine was cracked open, everybody loved Jenner. Even Daryl had a smile on his face as he drank wine and laughed with the others, his Georgian accent getting thicker with every sip. Shane drank deeply as he sat at the table next to you, his hand gripping your leg under the table. Your glass remained full as you occasionally swirled it in your hand. You figured someone had to be sober when eventually everything went to shit.

Daryl filled up Glenn’s glass again as T-Dog went for thirds. And while you were worried about things and just trying to stay calm, it was nice to see your friends and family laughing for the first time in weeks. You offered Shane the rest of your wine and he drank greedily. “Thanks, babe,” he said, kissing you. You could taste the alcohol on his lips as he kissed you and leaned his head against yours. He downed the rest of the wine and you caught Daryl looking at you. When your eyes met his, he quickly looked away and took a long pull from the bottle in his hands. The whole back and forth was starting to get tiring.

Eventually, it was time for some much-needed sleep. It would be the next morning when Jenner started explaining everything so you all headed to your new beds for the night. You and Shane pushed into a vacant room, pulling off your boots. Laying in bed, you stretched out, enjoying the feel of a proper mattress under you for the first time since the world ended. Shane stumbled over to the bed, dropping down beside you. He rolled over and braced his elbowd on either side of you. He leaned down to kiss you as his hands ran up your sides, but you pushed him back.

“You’re drunk, Shane,” you said, pushing against his chest. He looked down at you with a frown.

“(Y/N)...,” he whined, kissing down your neck.

“Shane, stop,” you said, taking his shoulders and pushing him again. This time he relented and flipped back over. He sighed as his eyes pressed closed. His hand found yours, playing with your fingers.

“I love you…” he said, looking over at you with heavy eyes.

“I love you, too, idiot,” you said. Shane huffed and sat up. “Where are you going?” you asked as you watched him stagger towards the door.

“Gonna walk it off,” Shane mumbled. “See if Rick is still up.” Shane stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him. You flopped back down to the mattress and then eyed the bathroom on the other side of the room. You figured you wouldn’t get another chance to have hot water in a while so you headed for a much-needed shower.

As soon as the hot water hit your body, you felt as if you were transported back in time. You stayed under the spray as long as possible, relishing in the feel of finally being clean after living in the woods for so long. You scrubbed your hair until it slipped through your fingers, free of tangles. Once you had your fill of the luxury the CDC had to offer, you shut the water off and grabbed a fluffy towel, wrapping it around your body.

After getting dressed and combing your fingers through your hair, you figured you should go find your boyfriend before he passed out in some lab or something. The halls of the residences were quiet as you moved through them, peeking around corners as you searched for Shane. When you turned again, you nearly ran into someone. They steadied you with their hands, grabbing onto your shoulders. Looking up, you saw that it was Daryl.

“Ya showered,” he said. You nodded slowly, trying not to laugh at his surprised expression. You then noticed the fine layer of dirty still adorning his skin.

“Yeah, you should try it, mountain man,” you teased, flicking a piece of dirt off his shirt. He scoffed at your words. He then realized he was still holding onto you and awkwardly let go. “Hey, have you seen Shane? He’s not exactly lucid right now and I don’t wanna find him passed out in a supply closet.” Daryl’s jaw went rigid at your words.

“Ya, saw him followin’ Grimes,” he said, looking away from you.

“Rick?”

“Nah,” Daryl grunted, moving past you, “Lori.”

-----

You didn’t bother to look for Shane after your run-in with Daryl. You went back to your room and tried to get some sleep. This time you did feel like an idiot. As if Shane would really leave her alone just because Rick was back. You stared at the ceiling, trying to stop your mind from creating scenarios about Lori and Shane in your head.

An hour or so later and the door opened. Shane glided into the room, clearly not as drunk as he had been. He pulled off his shoes and sank onto the mattress beside you. He rolled into your side, throwing an arm across your waist, his fingers playing with the fabric of your shirt. “I’m sorry about before,” he said, “you know I’m an ass when I drink.” You did know that which is why you had remained sober.

“It’s fine,” you said, which is what you always said when he apologized when he was being an asshole. His hand stilled on your stomach as his breathing slowed and he slowly fell asleep. A small amount of light entered the room from a crack in the door and as you looked down at your boyfriend you could see fresh scratch marks on his neck. You didn’t have to think too hard about whose nails had made them.

Your hand came up and carded through Shane’s hair. In his sleep, he nuzzled you closer and you had to fight the tears that welled up. You could do this, you could be there for him when he needed it because that is what you had always done for him. The end of the world didn’t need to change that. Right?

——-

The next day everything went from bad to worse.

Watching the MRI on the large monitor was horrifying. Even Shane was disturbed. As you all watched the patient reanimate, Shane had reached over and gripped your hand. The two of you hadn’t said anything about the previous night. At breakfast, he had played off the scratches as a drunken accident, but you noted the look in Lori’s face and you noticed that Daryl and even Carol were looking at her and Shane with accusatory glances.

When Jenner invited you all into the main theater for the explanation, hope was upon everyone’s faces as they urged the doctor to tell them about a cure. However, just as you suspected, there wasn’t one. Jenner explained that he was the only one left. He worked as hard as he could, but eventually there was no point.

Then, as soon as everybody started to realize what was happening, it was nearly too late.

The blaring red countdown clock was staring you all in the face as the CDC went into full lockdown. Sophia and Carl were stressed and Daryl was pissed. Rick and the others had to restrain the archer as he nearly decapitated Jenner with a fire ax. You, yourself, wanted to attack the man as well. You also wanted to beat Rick to a pulp for getting you into this mess in the first place.

Eventually, Rick convinced Jenner to let you out, but Andrea, Dale, and Jacqui were staying behind to succumb to the implosion. You rushed after the others towards the lobby. Shane pulled you along, nearly carrying you as you sped through the halls. With the metal shudders lifted, you could see the bodies of the dead even clearer in the sunlight now through the large windows. While you weren’t thrilled about going back into the world of the Dead, it was better than being incinerated.

You knew you were in trouble when the glass wouldn’t break. When Carol had produced the grenade, you could have kissed her. Rick set the charge and you all hit the deck. When the blast went off, you felt a body cover you and you knew immediately that it wasn’t Shane.

You didn’t say a word as Daryl used his body to keep you close to the ground. You just waited for the ground to stop moving before getting your bearings. Daryl hauled you up and took off towards the blown-out window without saying a word.

You helped with the kids as they climbed down to the ground, keeping them from the shattered glass. Then, following the others, you took off across the courtyard. Aiming your gun, you and some of the others took out Walkers that were drawn by the grenade. You all ran for the cars going as fast as you could. Entering the RV, you all hunkered down. You could see Daryl dive into his truck and Rick shouted at everyone to cover their ears.

But then Dale and Andrea came running out of the building. You crouched down again unable to see if they made it or not and this time it was Shane that held onto you. You covered your ears as a blast echoed throughout the city. The RV shook around you and when the smoke cleared and you stood up to look out the window, the CDC was gone.

#walking dead #the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead imagines #walkerwords #shane walsh x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon #shane walsh #rick grimes #season 1 twd #twd #twd imagines

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buckyscrystalqueen · 4 years

Text

Ain’t Sayin’ She’s a Gold Digger: Part 4

Pairings: Sugar Daddy!Negan x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: Sugar baby relationship, swearing

Word Count: 7,963

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the four months between getting the tickets, and heading to Burning Man, Jeff added seventeen countries and almost double that in states to deal with hotels that were going through the summer with bad ratings and numbers to your travel list. And while he worked, you worked with your new, temporary Burning Man assistant and your friends to organize everything you would need. It was chosen by the group, that now included Matt and Stacy, to join Kenzie and Stacy’s usual camp, which was actually a collection of make your own camps, to get the full Burner experience, and despite the fact that you felt like you were going crazy with Kenzie, who was the other natural organizer in the group, the trip came up before you knew it.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” Jeff laughed as he finally drove his RV into Black Rock City behind the 26 foot U Haul filled with your contribution to camp- thousands of dollars worth of water, Gatorade, mini and regular sized liquor bottles, beer, snacks, granola and power bars, and a thrift store find stand up piano, that Matt was driving for you.

“Oh, it’ll be fun.” You giggled as you waved at someone Kenzie had been yelling out the U Haul window at.

“Did you forget, I’m an old man, sweetheart?” He asked with a glance over at you before turning to the right to head down to where your camp, Island Time was located.

“Did you forget that we decided you are seasoned, not old?” Kara asked as she held two of six boxes of decorations in place on the dinning room table.

“We definitely agreed on seasoned, your Majesty.” Dana called out from the back bedroom, where she was responsible for keeping the dozen solar powered coolers of ice in place. Your boyfriend groaned as your smile grew even more.

“Oh, I’m never going to let you live this down.” You giggled as you reached over and pat his thigh.

“Yea, and you’re just making me wanna call an Uber.”

“They have an airport!” Chelsea called out as she sat up from the couch, where she was holding a rope that connected the three massive shade tents, also named Costco Barns, that would make up your themed camp.

“Don’t encourage him.” You scolded as you turned in your seat to look back at her. “He will leave.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it.” She laughed as she sat up completely, as Jeff parked the RV on the left side of your camp site, and beside the U Haul that would turn into a ‘fishing pond’ for all the snacks it held. “Alright, let’s get unpacked.” You pat Jeff’s thigh once more as the girls in the back got out to start setting up.

“Just let go, sweetheart.” You told him as he set the emergency brake. “You are allowed to take a vacation and the company won’t crumble in your absence.”

“You are the only person I would agree to this for.” He said honestly as he dropped the keys in his cup holder and picked up your hand. “I love you, (Y/N). I need you to know that.”

“I love you, too, Jeff. So, so much.”

“Are you two gunna help, or are you just gunna sit there all day?” Dana asked as she grabbed one of the decorations boxes to carry out. You muttered ‘shut up’ and gave Jeff a chaste kiss before getting out to begin the long day of work. Kate, who was the mastermind behind your camp’s theme, started directing instantly, transforming the square of desert into a tropical wonderland.

Your group had thought of everything, from a had painted directional sign that pointed fellow Burners to coffee, the Playa, the Deep Playa, City Center, the bathrooms, and of course, the Burning Man center piece and The Temple, to a bunch of tropical themed pool rafts to be used by whomever as seats. You had a blue tarp on the ground and the dyed canvas covers above you that Chelsea had painted to look like waves, and dozens of starfish, jellyfish, and fish toys zip tied anywhere they could go so they didn’t become missiles in a dust storm.

There were four fishing poles laid against the U Haul, which had giant handmade banners on each side to promote your camp, and they were set up for ‘fishing’ with baskets on the end of the 100 pound test line that Jeff swore would hold up for what you needed it to. And the piece de le resistance of your camp was an inflatable palm tree cooler, that would have ice cold drinks for anyone passing by that needed one, that would sit directly in front of the piano you had brought to play as yet another contribution to the Burning Man community.

“It’s perfect.” Dana said with a proud smile as you on Jeff’s shoulders, and Chelsea on Matt’s strung up the last strings of blue lights in the canopy.

“I would hope so.” Kate said with a nod. “I busted my ass to figure out this design.”

“Hey! Beach girls!” A guy called out as he rode by your camp on his bike. “Nice idea!” You all yelled thanks as Jeff kneeled down so you could climb off.

“Damn, it’s hot.” He sighed as he sat down on one of the couple chairs you had brought. You nodded in agreement and used your already dust covered shirt to wipe off your face.

“I need a shower.”

“Get used to being dirty.” Kenzie said as she just took off her shirt and tossed it on a chair on her way over to grab a the reusable water bottle with her name on it so she could fill it up from the sink on the outside of the RV.

“So are we getting ready to open here or what?” Matt asked as he helped Chelsea dump ice from one of the solar power coolers into the palm tree cooler.

“Yea, someone throw up the fishing sign.” You said as you two pulled off your shirt and headed inside to get dressed. “I’ll go get ready.”

——

“Oh, do you know ‘Piano Man’?” A girl asked as she skipped up to your piano with a champagne slushy from a few camps down. You glanced up at her and nodded as you set down your mermaid patterned water bottle, that was currently filled with rum and coke and adjusted your shell patterned bikini top.

“I wouldn’t be a piano playing mermaid if I didn’t!” You cried as your fingers moved from playing a random melody to the newest request. You started playing over the cheers of a man, who had gotten a mini bottle of Jäger and a bag of Goldfish in his fishing pole bucket, as the girl in front of you cheered and started singing with you, and the group that had collected in your tent at some point since the sun went down. You glanced over at Jeff, who had decided months ago that he was going to be on whatever shift you were on, and gave him a slightly knowing smile, since his only job was to make sure ice was being made in the ice genies you had filling your freezer, and that the ice that was melting was draining into a new one to make more ice as needed.

He’d spent most of his evening simply watching you, and holding up polite conversations with people that had come in to your tent and had some how slipped past Matt, and Stacy, who were on an entertainment shift with you in the main part of your camp, while Dana played ‘fish’ in the fan filled U Haul, and the other girls rode around to check out some of the rest of the camps. You couldn’t help but fall even more in love with him like you had every day for the past couple months. He was just entirely too good for you, and you didn’t ever want to be away from him.

“Alright, guys, I’m gunna take a break for a few hours.” You said when you saw Kenzie and Kara on their bikes. “Put requests in the fish bowl!”

“We’re switching out?” Matt asked as grabbed a beer from the palm tree.

“Yea, we’re gunna go burn a while.” You said as you adjusted your mermaid scales bottoms on your way over to the U Haul. You yelled your intentions to Dana, who was going to switch places with Kenzie for the second shift of fishing, and grabbed your heavily decorated with bright neon blue LED battery power lights beach cruiser.

“You know, I don’t know if I remember how to ride a bike.” Jeff said softly as he grabbed his matching, mixed color bike from next to yours.

“I’ll make sure you don’t fall or embarrass yourself, my love.” He leaned over and kissed your temple as you grabbed your alcohol filled bottle and a water filled one as well and stuck them in your basket. “Alright, let’s…”

“Hey wait!” The girl that asked you to play Piano Man said as she came running out to the road. She smiled at you and held out a pair of pills. “Thank you. For my song.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to…”

“Take them.” She giggled as she grabbed your hand and put the two pills in your palm. “Happy Burn.” You nodded at her and looked over at Jeff with a smile.

“Just don’t think.” You said as you put a pill on your tongue, grabbed the back of his head, and kissed him roughly. You could feel him tense up the slightest bit as you pushed the pill between his lips with your tongue, but after a moment, he loosened up, and let you give him the ecstasy.

“What kinda bad influence are you?” He laughed as you popped your pill in your mouth and followed it with a swig of your drink.

“One that you love.” You cooed as you straddled your bike and put your feet on the pedals. “You coming?”

“I guess I am.” He sighed as he got on his bike and briefly wobbled after you before he gained his confidence and pulled up to your side. “Thank you for not letting me back out.”

“Well look at it this way now.” You said as you grabbed your head lamp from the basket, switched it on, and put it on your head. “I just did ecstasy and am headed out to la Playa at prime time in Burning Man time in a bathing suit.”

“Yea, and if you walk more than five feet away from me at any point in time, I’ll take you to Europe, steal all of your things, and leave you there for a week to fend for yourself.”

“Oh, that sounds dangerous.” You teased as you pulled into the center of Black Rock City. You rode over to where a group of bikes and parked yours in the line with the rest, making sure to lock the wheel to the frame just in case someone drunkenly confused your bike with theirs.

“I don’t dance.” Jeff yelled at you over the music.

“You don’t have to.” You laughed as you laced your arm with his and pointed the farthest camp on the edge. “How about we start there and work our way down the line until the E kicks on?” With a nod, he reached out for your hand and laced his fingers with yours to walk with you. It only took about an hour for the drugs to kick in, and in that time you had been gifted a rubber bracelet for the event because you had pretty hair, a few glow stick bracelets and necklaces which made you realize you forgot yours in the RV, and more than a few shots and drinks. And as you were talking to someone about your time in Juilliard, and disagreeing with them on why your Burning Man nickname should not be ‘Keys’, you realized that Jeff was lost in his roll and the softness of your skin on the back of your neck.

“You OK?” You laughed at him when you had a moment break in the conversation.

“Why is your skin so soft?”

“Because you’re high, baby.” You laughed before saying a quick ‘see you later, come see us’ so you could hunt down your bikes before you got lost in the sensation, too.

“You’re back quick.” Dana said as you pulled up to the campsite and got off your bike.

“Yep.” Kenzie, who was sitting right next to her took one look at you before sitting up and turning to the group.

“OK, someone needs to turn the music up right now so we don’t have to hear them fuck!”

“God, you’re impossible.” You laughed as you headed in to the RV with Jeff’s hand in yours, while the people under your tent cheered for you. The second the door closed behind you, you kissed your boyfriend and walked him back to the king sized bed, closing the door only a couple seconds before your clothes hit the floor.

“Fuck, baby girl.” Jeff sighed when he got you completely undressed, and laid out on the blankets. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know, I’m honestly surprised you lasted the entire week.” You admitted to Jeff, as he held the door to room one of four suites so you and your friends could shower off and have a good night sleep before you flew home. He huffed at you as your friends all tiredly headed into their rooms beside and across the hall from you to shower and wash off the six layers of dirt and catch up the dozens of hours of missed sleep.

“That is only because I wasn’t leaving my gorgeous girlfriend alone in the desert with that many drugs, and that many naked people.” You snorted a laugh through your nose, dropped your purse on the floor just inside the door, and kicked off your shoes in opposite directions on the way to the shower. “Hey, who said you could go first?”

“I will kill you if you think you are getting in before me.” You growled as you pulled off your clothes and got into the shower. “Get in here and help me.” You whined as you stood out of the way of the shower spray and turned the water on.

“So needy.” He huffed as he stripped out of his clothes and stepped in the shower in front of you. With a content sigh, you wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your head on his chest.

“This is all I need in life anymore.” You told him as you watched dirty water wash through and around the soft hairs on his chest. You adjusted your cheek and sighed once more as he grabbed a bar of soap and washed you off in lazy circles.

“Move in with me.” Those four words made your stomach flip as you looked up at the first man that had ever made you feel worth while, and nodded your head without needing to give the proposition any thought otherwise.

“I’m taking a long nap first.” You replied with a smirk as you laid your head back down on his chest.

“I think that can be arranged, baby girl.”

The next two weeks of your life was a complete whirlwind as you packed up all your belongings, moved across Central Park to Jeff’s Upper East Side home, and helped Chelsea move out of the four bedroom hell hole she lived in with 3 total wack jobs and a horrible landlord since she spent half the time sleeping on your couch as is, and into your old room. But just as you were getting everything settled, you caught some kind of stomach bug that turned out to be something way more serious.

Jeff stood pin straight still, and dead silent, as you both stared at the door of the hospital room you were in- a trip you made because he couldn’t take one more night of you throwing up and writhing on the bathroom floor in pain. You had no idea what he was thinking, but then again, neither did he. You were both just absolutely terrified.

“Are they OK?” You both asked the second the doctor walked into the room.

“Let’s just take a look, OK?” He said with a reassuring smile. You couldn’t bring yourself to believe him as every single drug you took in Black Rock City ran like a bad movie in your head. You reached out for Jeff at the same moment he took a step toward you, as the doc grabbed the ultrasound wand. You actually held your breath as he located the two side by side blobs and nodded his head.

“They look fine.” You exhaled forcefully and burst into fear and joy fill tears, as Jeff sat down in the chair next to you in relief. “Two healthy babies.”

“We did a lot of drugs.” Jeff said as he worried your hand between his as he stared at the monitor. “And a lot of drinking at Burning Man...”

“And all I can say on that is get in touch with an OBGYN, and disclose everything. I won’t lie to you, there could be some consequences, but I wouldn’t worry too much about that. I’ve seen drug addicts who used everyday of their pregnancy and had perfectly functioning, otherwise healthy babies. I’d just refrain from any and all alcohol consumption and drug use.”

“Oh absolutely.” You said with a nod as you took the two photos he handed you and held the delicately in your hands. “I’ll do everything by the book.”

“Just don’t worry to much about what you did. Focus on what you can do for them now.” You nodded your head and took the paper script from him, which Jeff took from you right after. “Something to help with the nausea. And I’ll have the nurse bring in a list of some OBGYN’s in town for you as well.”

“Thank you, doc.” Jeff said with a nod as he stood up and shook the man’s hand. “We appreciate it.” With another nod, the doctor left the room to go about his day, and you looked up at the father of your children and started to cry.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know!” He shushed you softly and shook his head as he leaned down to wrap you in a hug.

“It’s ok, baby girl.” He whispered as he held you to his shoulder with his hand on the back of your head. “I’m not mad. It’s OK now. We’ll all be OK.” You nodded for a second before your stomach rolled, and you practically shoved him away to grab the vomit bag the nurse had given you to get sick in. “It’s OK.” He repeated as he gently rubbed your back and picked up the ultrasounds from your lap to look at them in complete disbelief. “We’re all gunna be alright.”

——

Jeff didn’t speak to you for three days after you got home, other than to check to see how you were feeling, and to remind you he loved you every night as you walked out of the living room to the master bedroom without him, which was unusual for him, since you usually went to bed together. On the fourth night, you got fed up with laying in his bed, waiting for the man that you had fallen head over heels in love with, the father of your children, and grabbed your pillow and the blanket to head down to the guest bedroom. You made it almost all the way to the door, when it opened toward you. Jeff stopped for a moment and looked at you with eyes full of concern, as you hiked the blankets and your pillow up a little more.

“No.” He said simply with a shake of his head, as if it were the answer to all of your problems.

“No, you no!” You snapped back as tears welled in your eyes. “I’m going…”

“I always wanted kids.” He sighed as he stepped in front of you and pulled the blanket out of your arms to put it back on the bed. “Hillarie couldn’t conceive. And the few times she did, we miscarried before the end of the first trimester.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Do you know that fear doesn’t go away?” He asked as he walked you around to your side of the bed. “Fear that you’re going to blink and everything is going to be ripped away from you, that doesn’t just go away.” He sighed as he pulled off his shoes and carefully laid you down on the bed so he could get in behind you. As if you were China doll about to break, he scooted up behind you as close as he could, and gently wrapped his arm under yours across your chest.

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry I’ve pulled away from you. It is absolutely not your fault, or the fact that you are pregnant. I love you so fucking much and I need you with me every fucking day for the rest of my life. And now I need our kids just as much, but I’m fucking terrified. I can’t… I can’t…”

“I’m scared too.” You whispered as you pulled his arm even closer to you. “What if I fucked them up?”

“Then we will figure it out together, baby.” He sighed as he hugged you a little tighter. “I’m sorry I pulled away. I needed a minute and I never should have taken it silently without telling you what I was doing. That was not fair to you. I’ve just never been good at handling hard life shit.” You shook your head in agreement and sniffled as your tears fell on his arms and your pillow. “I’m sorry. Forgive me…” You nodded your head and rolled over to face him, and he held you to his chest as his own tears welled in his eyes.

“Just tell me it’s gunna be OK.” You sobbed as you held on to his shirt so he wouldn’t leave when you voiced your insecurities. “Tell me I didn’t kill our babies at stupid fucking Burning Man or that they aren’t going to end up blind, or with only one limb between them….”

“No, shhh…” He tried with a shake of his head as he realized that you were dealing with different versions of his same fears about the situation. “Our babies are going to be just fine. Unless they’re boys… then we’re both screwed.”

“No, I want boys!” You whined as he leaned back enough to kiss your forehead and wipe away your tears for you.

“Then we are going to have two, healthy boys, that have all ten fingers and all ten toes each, in their right places, on the right babies. And they’re gunna be smart, and handsome, and funny, and…”

“Perfect?” He nodded his head as he moved his hand to your stomach with as big of smile as his nervous self could handle.

“They will be perfect.”

——

“OK, you understand that I’m supposed to be peacefully resting at home, right? Not looking at new houses…”

“You’ve taken over my closet.” Jeff laughed as he held the elevator door open on the fourth floor of the millionth condo you had seen in the past six week. “And it’ll only be a matter of time before you start taking over the one in the guest bedroom. Besides my place is more of a bachelor pad still. It’s not really kid friendly…”

“I know what you’re doing.” You said as you stopped in front of 4B and turned around to look at him as you put your hand on your back and cocked your eyebrow at him. You pointed at the bump that officially stuck out past your boobs and shook your head. “We made it to the second trimester. You don’t need to distract yourself...”

“But we still need a bigger house.” He chuckled as he leaned towards you to knock at the door. “One that you can decorate for our family and not my assistant for my tastes.”

“Whatever.” You huffed as you turned toward Jeff’s real estate agent, Mark. “So? Let’s hear it.”

“Four beds, three and a half baths.” Mark started as he walked backwards into the living room. “Thirty five hundred square feet, and washer and dryer in the unit.”

“Big kitchen?” You asked as you curled your lip at the hideous purple painted book shelf in the study to your left off the living room. “Eww…”

“Big kitchen.” Mark agreed as Jeff followed you around, taking mental notes about the things he would need to change for you to make this the house you wanted to start your family in since he didn’t mind one bit where he lived as long as you were there with him.

“God, who designed this place?” You asked as you turned around and looked at weird, bell shaped light on the far side of the open concept room in what had to be the dining room. “Schools?”

“7, 2, and 8 out of 10.” He said as he looked at his notebook to get the answers to the questions he knew you were going to ask since he had been working with you for a few weeks. “The building was built in 1906 and was last coded in 2019. Been on the market five days and it’s already seen three people.” You shook your head as you peaked into the half bath and the walk in pantry across the way, before heading into the absolutely gorgeous white and grey kitchen, thats only blemish was the colored cushions on the bench in the breakfast nook in the corner, and more of the same strange gold bell lamp shades.

“This could be a play room.” Jeff said as he looked at the den that backed the kitchen.

“You have another closet back there. And the laundry room with a sink is over there.” You nodded your head and glanced down the hall that lead to the bedrooms, as Jeff came up behind you with a smirk.

“You are poker facing awful hard, baby girl.”

“Other than paint, and changing light fixtures, I love it, but I’m not telling him that.” Your love huffed and nodded his head as you walked over to look at the actual laundry room with a sink, cabinets, and counter space, and the large walk in closet.

“It also has 3-zone central AC, a humidification system, and radiant-heated floors in the bathrooms. And it has a part time doorman, a live-in super, more added storage, and a bike room. The walk score is 98, and transit is 100. Now I think is the cutest part of the house is this room right here. I know Mr. Morgan said you were having twins, and this is perfect already if they are girls, or it can be painted for boys…”

“Oh, wow.” You said as your facade slipped for only a moment when you saw the built in bookshelves on one wall, and the already built in bunk beds next to the long closet on the other. You glanced up at Jeff with a smirk you couldn’t control, and he kissed your forehead in silent confirmation.

“What are they asking?”

“$5,375,000.” Jeff whistled as you looked at the similar room across the hall, that had the same bookshelves on one wall but a small ensuite on the other wall.

“HOA?”

“It’s a little higher than the rest.” Mark said as he followed you and Jeff through the second to last bedroom, and the bath that it shared with the room with the bunk beds. “$5,018”

“Can you give us a minute?” Jeff asked as you stepped into the last room, the master bedroom.

“You may not have enough room in this closet either, baby.”

“Finally found one you like?” You finally let your smile show, and nodded your head as you turned on the wood floors that ran through all of the bedrooms toward him. He sighed and put his hands on your hips with a small smile that made your heart melt and your stomach flip. “Do you want it?”

“Do you?” He nodded his head and searched your eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath.

“I’m gunna say the same thing I said to Hillarie when I bought our first house. This house will be our house, until the day comes when you don’t want me here anymore, which hopefully is never. But if that day comes, this house will still be yours, and our kids, for the rest their lives… unless you cheat on me, or if you attempt to steal money from me, which yes, it is possible, because I watched my ex-wife try to do it. Not saying you would, but I still need to lay the rules out…”

“Wait… you’re giving me a house?”

“No.” He chuckled as he moved his hands to the small of your back to hug you. “I’m buying us a house, that I’m going to put your name on as well, so that we both know that you and our children will always be taken care of. Because you are the real love of my life… and I need to know that you are safe.” You couldn’t help yourself but to start crying, and his smile simply grew more as he leaned down and kissed your forehead. “Wanna walk through it one more time to make sure you really love it?”

“Yes…”

“Well go on then.” He chuckled before giving you a chaste kiss. “I’m going to talk price and see if I can get them to do a short sale so we can get in here and get that purple book shelf painted…”

“Eww and change those horrid light shades, please!”

“We can find some new light shades, sweetheart.”

“Hey baby!” You called out before he could walk out of the room. “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

“Anything for you, baby girl.” You blew him a kiss and turned to look at the small white and bronze accented bathroom, that would have to have to be redone in some actual color, before heading back over to the bedroom with the bunk beds.

“This is gunna be your room one day, babies.” You whispered as you rubbed your bump and looked down at your babies as the reality that they would never have to live the life you did growing up caught up with you. You started to cry again as you looked up at a giant giraffe stuffed animal the owners kids owned, and choked on your tears with a laugh. “God, and I promise I will never buy you two something so tacky.”

——

“OK, this is just not fucking fair.” Dana said as she walked into your new, freshly painted, co-decorated, slightly remodeled home for your gender reveal. “This place could fit my house like ten times over!”

“She looked at about a million and one to find this one.” Jeff teased as he took the giant basket she was carrying from her.

“What’s in the basket?” You asked as you pushed the front door closed and took a step toward your boyfriend, only to have him turn away and Dana step in front of you.

“You can open it later.” She laughed as she turned you around and pushed you into your living room. “Now show me around. Be a good hostess before everyone else gets here.”

“Oh, Jesus I can’t even… You’re so needy!”

“Oh, I know! It’s so hard to be a good host.” She laughed back as she followed you to the kitchen, where you had dozens of finger foods and desserts in pink and blue.

“OK, wait. You have to place your vote.” You said as you pointed to the dry erase board you had borrowed from her office. “Two boys, two girls, or one of each. And then you have to wear the beads.”

“Oh, I like it!” She said as she lifted the two strands of blue beads from around your neck. “You want boys?”

“Oh, I need boys.” You said as you held out a few dry erase markers for her to choose. “Dana, we’re girls. Do you remember how much trouble we got in to?”

“Yea, but so do boys.” She pointed out as she drew a mark under the one boy, one girl column and picked up one of each necklace.

“Yes, but boys listen to their mothers.” You reminded her as you want over and grabbed a glass of blue raspberry lemonade and a blue straw from the table of the breakfast nook. “Come on, you have to see the boy’s room.”

“What if it’s one and one?”

“Then I guess I’m just going to have to recreate the room on the other side? I don’t know. I do know that I’ve grown to hate this purplish pinkish bleck shade they had in here…”

“Oh, that’s really cool. But I see about the color, this is awful.”

“So this one shares a bathroom with the one next door. And the one across the hall has an ensuite so it’s the guest room. And our room is next to that…”

“Oh, let me see the remodel you did with that. You changed the bathroom, right?”

“OK, so first, you have to see the final product so I can show you how we changed it because the way they set this up is just asinine.”

“What did they…”

“Who makes a master bathroom five feet wide and thinks that’s OK?” You asked as you stepped into the master suite and pushed open the bathroom door. “So this wall stopped here and we pushed it out into one of the two closets the undecided room had and doubled the size. And then I added the tub because I needed it.”

“I like this color.” She said as she touched the dark teal accent wall behind the mirror.

“I used the same one on the bookshelf in the study because I liked it so much.” You said with a nod. “We also pushed this wall into the walk in because Jeff still has his closet space out here and I didn’t need that much space, so that few feet gave us just the amount of room we needed.” Dana nodded and turned toward you with a smile.

“Are you happy, (Y/N)? Like not because of the physical possessions… does he make you happy?” You smiled and nodded your head as you put your hand on your 20 week along bump.

“Dana, I’m pretty sure I would die without him in my life. I have never loved someone the way I love Jeff.” Her smile grew as she stepped forward and put her hands on either side of your stomach.

“Then I know I made the right choice in calling you back that day.” You nodded your head as Jeff called your name from outside the door, and you looked over at him with a smile.

“My mom just got here. Are you done touring?”

“Where did your beads go, mister?” You asked as you turned toward him and followed him out of your room.

“Mom votes with me that they are both girls so I gave them to her.” He laughed as he reached out for your hand just long enough to pull you to the side to put his hand on the small of your back.

“And you know I’m going to keep giving you shit until you put them back on, Daddy.” You cooed as you grabbed two pink bead necklaces and held them out to him. “Or you can sleep on the couch, far far away from Mommy and the boys.”

“See, I like her already.”

“Thanks Mom.” Jeff laughed as he put his necklaces on and turned you around to the food covered island. “Sweetheart, this is my mom, Sandy. Mom, the love of my life, mother of daughters…”

“Sons.” You laughed as you stepped forward to the grandmother of your children. “(Y/N). It’s so nice to finally meet you, Sandy.”

“Oh, please. It’s Mom.” She said sweetly as she gestured to your bump. “May I?”

“Absolutely!” You laughed as you reached out for her hands and pulled her a step closer. “You’ve got the soccer player down here, and the long jumper that uses my ribs as a jumping board up here. I say they have to be boys because like two nights ago, they got into what felt like a slap fight against my bladder and I feel like only boys would be that rude to their mother in the middle of the night.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” She laughed as she rubbed your bump through the knee length blue and pink splattered, off the shoulder dress that was tight against your body and had a long, loose ruffle around the top. “If they are boys, I hope for your sake they are nothing like their father because he was a wild child.”

“Oh, really!” You squealed as you refilled your cup and picked up a pink chocolate covered strawberry, while Jeff whined ‘Mom’ on his way to go get the door. “Please, I am begging you to tell me more.”

“Oh, honey I will never run out of stories about my Jeffrey. Like this one time…”

“Mom!” Jeff said as he walked back into the kitchen behind Chelsea and Kate, and couple of Jeff’s friends that you had only meet a few times before. “Don’t start!”

“Oh, I’ll start alright.” She laughed with a shake of her head. “I have to pre-warn her what she’s getting into with Morgan boys.” You laughed with her as Jeff simply shook his head and went to get the door again, and Dana quickly jumped on the train to get more stories about the father of your child with you. Since you had no representation of family, you shared your own embarrassing childhood stories as your friends and his came together to celebrate the lives you created. You played cheesy games, and ate probably way to many sweets, until Jeff’s assistant, Rebecca got there a little late with two large black balloons for Baby A and Baby B.

“OK, let’s see what the final vote is before we pop these suckers.” Jeff called out over the slight hum of voices in the living room and kitchen as he pointed to the two balloons Rebecca was putting in the arch way between the living and dining room. One of the men that worked in Jeff’s New York office, Jason, grabbed the white board for you and carried it out to the dinner table, where the presents that people had brought to make the last couple months of your pregnancy a little more enjoyable were.

“So we have eight for boy boy.” You said as you looked at all the tallies on the board. “Which is the right team, by the way…”

“Thirteen for girl girl, the winning team.” Jeff interrupted with a playful glare.

“You are are just mistaken.” You giggled. “And fourteen for both. So Baby B is the one up by my ribs, and Baby A is right now down by my left hip. So we’ll obviously start with A. Thanks, Bex.” You said as you took the balloon and a sewing needle from her. “You wanna?”

“No, pop away, my love.” Jeff said as he moved the balloon between you so that you could both be in the photos Kenzie had been taking for you all afternoon. You and your party guests counted down from three, and hesitated for only a second before hitting the black latex with the sharp tip. You cheered excitedly as blue confetti rained down on your head and floated down on your hardwood floors.

“Ok, so this one better be a girl.” Jeff mockingly complained as he took the string from you and traded it for the next balloon.

“If it is a girl, she’s a badass with the way she’s beating up on her brother.” You laughed as you handed him the pin. “But it’s gunna be another boy.”

“Wrong.” He laughed before starting the next count down. You actually held your breath, hoping in that moment that it was a girl for his sake, and you shrieked happily when the destroyed latex released its pink confetti over the blue.

“We got one of both.” You said with a smile as Jeff cupped your jaw with his hands.

“A Daddy’s girl and a Mama’s boy.” He said with a nod. “We’re both screwed.”

“Yea we are.” You laughed as you stood up on your tip toes and kissed him softly. “A boy and a girl… sorry baby, we gotta do even more painting.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh, God, is this really necessary?” You whined as you stepped in to a white and black polka dot sleeveless, halter gown to go to a charity event for one of the foundations Jeff was a part of.

“I’m sorry, but it is.” Jeff said with a nod as he pulled your dress up to your hips where you could reach it without bending over around your substantial 32 week along bump. “It’s a once a year dinner that I have to go to, and you said you wanted to go…”

“Yea, I know.” You sighed as you turned around so he could zip you up. “But I was obviously delirious, running on more sleep, and probably half the size I am now.”

“And you still look just as beautiful to me, baby.” He said sweetly to keep you calm like he usually did as he turned you around toward him with a smile. “I love you… and I know Jett and Jace are both thankful you are carrying them…”

“Yea, I know you think that.” You huffed as a small smile pulled at your cheeks. “But I think these two are ungrateful, hate monsters that can’t keep their arms and legs inside the moving vehicle.” Jeff laughed whole heartedly as he knelt down and slipped your wedge sandals on your feet for you.

“You’re almost there, baby girl. 36 weeks was your goal…”

“Just make it go faster.” You sighed as you put your cell phone on silent and handed it to him to carry so you didn’t have to bring a purse. He put it in his inside jacket pocket with your tissues (because everything made you cry now a days), your lip gloss, and a bag of goldfish in case you got hungry before dinner was served.

“Make it through dinner, and we’re one more day closer.” He said in a sing song voice as he turned you toward the door and gave you a gentle push in that direction. You grumbled at him under your breath as you adjusted your belly band under your dress, and headed down stairs. “It’ll be over before you know it, sweetheart.” He placated over your continued grumbling when your car pulled up in front the Ritz in Manhattan. With one last grumble, you lost the pout and forced a smile on your face as he and his driver, Jonathan, helped you out of the car.

“Oh, you look so big!” “When are you due?!” “Twin’s, that sounds like a lot of work!” “Oh, you have to use cloth diapers, they are so much better for the babies.” “A tiny thing like you is going to have a lot of fun pushing those babies out.”

“OK!” Jeff said quickly before you knocked the woman that was reaching out for your bump on her ass. “Let’s go find our seats and get you off your feet.”

“Why do people think it’s acceptable to touch me?”

“Because people are weird.” He laughed as he guided you around a chair that had been left pulled out.

“Jeffrey Dean!” You stopped walking as a woman stood up on the far side of the table in front of you, and Jeff’s hand gripped the back of your dress when she started walking toward you.

“Hillarie.”

“The Hillarie?” You asked with a glance back up at him. He nodded his head and rubbed your back as he cleared his throat.

“What can I do for you, Hillarie?”

“Oh, nothing, I just… oh! You’re… pregnant.” You nodded your head and put your hand on your bump as she smirked between you and her ex. “You finally caved and went with a sperm donor…”

“Good night, Hillarie…” Jeff tried as he gave you a gentle push to the right, but his ex side stepped and blocked your path.

“No, I’m sorry. That’s rude of me.” She giggled with the fakest smile you had ever seen. “You seem like a nice young thing. I bet you found a man to knock you up and went after Jeff for the money, didn’t you?”

“Excuse me?!”

“That’s enough, Hillarie!”

“I mean you are huge and, let’s face it, we both know Jeff’s sperm are way to old to be a viable option…”

“I’m sorry.” You interrupted as your whole body started to shake. “I think I missed the memo saying that your opinion about my children and their father mattered to anyone but yourself.” She cocked her eyebrow at you as you reached back for Jeff’s hand with a very forced smile. “And I’m even more sorry that you decided to cheat on him and pass up on mind blowing sex. Not that it’s any of your business, but I can promise you that he is responsible for my huge stomach. He’s responsible for making me happy, and he’s responsible for making me forget my own name every night.” Hillarie looked shocked at your retort as you stepped back the other way and up to her side with a smile. “Oh, and thank you for talking to him. Now I know I’ll go to bed wore out as we both attempt to forget you are still in Manhattan and so he can welcomingly remind me the seasoned man he is and exactly who fathered my babies.” You took a step back and smiled at her once more as the exhausted vindictiveness washed over you.

“And I’m sorry that you weren’t capable of getting pregnant. But obviously… that’s not Jeff’s fault.”

“OK, let’s go find our seats, baby girl.” Jeff said quickly as he stepped between you and his ex with an uncontrollable satisfied smirk on his face. “Good night, Hillarie.” You heard her growl behind you as you were led away, and you glanced up at Jeff for a moment. “You did fine.” He chuckled before you could even ask.

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t my place… really, they’re starting with salad.”

“Just start with the salad so you don’t rip anyone else’s head off.” He laughed as he pulled your chair out at the first table in the middle row of the room.

“And for that, I’m eating yours too.” You huffed with a smile as you put your napkin on your lap, and turned your attention to the rest of the people at the table, who were thankfully people that you knew from Jeff’s New York office that had attended your gender reveal, or would be attending your baby shower the next day. “Growing babies is tough work. Can’t be done on just greens.”

#negan x reader #Ain't sayin' she's a gold digger #Negan's thirst squad #Negan thirst squad

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stardust-walker · 4 years

Text

High Hopes

word count: 4014

Chapters: 1 2 3

Chapter 4

The weirdest thing is that a few months ago, Dove wouldn’t think that listening to kids running and playing would sound as sweet as it did.

A small chuckle escaped her as she sat on the steps leading into Dale’s RV. The horrified look on Glenn’s face as he stopped mid-greeting was just as amusing.

“Well. Good morning to you too, sunshine,” Dove squinted as she stood up and moved to stand next to him.

“When did they start tearing it apart,” Glenn frowned as he folded his arms in front of his chest.

Dove shrugged her shoulders, “’Bout a half an hour ago, I suppose.” She ran a hand through her dark hair as she turned her head slightly. Rick was finally awake again. Dove raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she greeted the newcomer. “Mornin’, Rick!”

“Go on! Tear it apart, you vultures.” Glenn scowled and shook his head. Dove couldn’t keep herself from letting out a snort of laughter.

“Generators need every drop of fuel they can get,” Dale stated matter-of-factly as he walked past them.

“He has a fair point. I’d rather have a shower than a fancy car,” Dove mumbled quietly.

“I thought I’d get to drive it another few days,” Glenn sighed.

Dove turned her head slightly as Rick responded, “Maybe we’ll get to steal another one someday.”

This new way of living sure was a hell of a thing when you had a sheriff encouraging grand theft auto.

Dove placed a comforting hand on Glenn’s shoulder, “Maybe an even nicer one! One that’s not going to send an alarm running for miles next time too.” Glenn just let out an annoyed sigh.

Glenn seemed to be resigned to the fact that his car was being torn apart by Jim. Dove patted his shoulder again as she watched him step forward to converse with the other man. Knowing him, he was still probably trying to talk about what a cool car it was to anyone who would listen.

A revving engine caught the attention of a few members of the camp as Shane pulled up. He announced, “Make sure to boil the water before use.”

Carol made her way over to Dove. “Too bad about Glenn’s car, huh?”

The response caught in Dove’s throat as a shrill scream erupted from the woods close by, followed by another voice screaming “Mom!!”

A panicked look was exchanged between the sisters for a moment and then they were both off. Carol screamed for Sophia and the relief was obvious on Dove’s face as the little girl broke through the trees with Carl hot on her heels.

Tiny arms wrapped themselves around her waist as Dove knelt quickly to survey her niece for any marks. “Are you alright, Soph? Nothing bit you?” Sophia shook her head quickly, only able to muster up a panicked whimper. Carol finally broke through the trees behind her and let out a relieved cry as Sophia released her aunt with a cry of, “Mommy!!”

Dove glanced around quickly before she pointed back towards camp. “Take them back now! I’m just gonna make sure everything’s alright!” Carol nodded her head and scooped Sophia up.

Lori, however, eyed her warily for a moment before the brunette disappeared into the tree line again.

As she broke through the trees she held back a hysterical laugh. They were just stood around the damn thing, beating it with sticks. So much for being evolved past a caveman brain.

Amy let out a disgusted groan as the walkers head was finally chopped off.

Dale muttered, “That’s the first one we’ve had out here.”

Jim replied, “They must be running out of food in the city.”

Dove looked over at Amy and Andrea. Both of the sisters were just looking on like a couple of deer in the headlights and she couldn’t blame them. She felt a little nauseous herself.

Branches snapped in the woods and all conversation stopped. Andrea put a protective arm around Amy and Dove took a slow step forward towards the men. Curiosity was a bitch of a thing, but she wanted to see what exactly was going to happen.

Her heart leapt into her throat and plummeted back to her stomach as Daryl Dixon came into view. Her eyes locked with Jim’s in a moment of panic before she quickly looked down at her feet. Honestly, she would rather have a walker run out of the woods right now than have to face the inevitable.

Daryl looked pissed already.��Definitely a good sign for them. “That was my deer. Look at it! All gnawed on by this filthy, disease ridden, motherless, proxy bastard!”

Dale shook his head in disgust, “Now come on, son. That’s not helping anyone.”

Daryl’s temper flared up again as he stepped quickly over the walker, headed right for Dale. Dove took a quick step closer to Rick as she eyed the officer, trying to communicate that this was not a good sign. “What do you know about it, old man? Why don’t you take that stupid hat and go back to ‘on golden pond’?”

A surprised laugh, which was able to be quickly covered up as a cough escaped Dove’s lips. Glenn elbowed her slightly in the side and narrowed his eyes once he had her attention. The woman merely shrugged as she turned her attention back to the dead animal. Her stomach did begin to rumble at the thought of venison, or anything other than squirrels for that matter. A sigh left her lips as Shane stated, “I wouldn’t risk that.”

Daryl’s focus drifted to her, almost asking for another opinion. Dove shrugged her shoulders before she slipped her hands into her back pockets, “As good as it sounds, it’s too risky. We got kids to think about and what if they eat tainted meat? Get sick?”

Daryl sighed and shook his head, “Damn shame. I got a few squirrels though. ‘Bout a dozen or so. That’ll have to do.” The calmness in the air broke as the walker head at her feet started snapping its jaw again. Dove let out a startled shriek and stumbled back into Glenn as Daryl shot an arrow into it’s brain. “Gotta be the brain. Don’t ya’ know nothin?”

The focus of the group shifted again as Daryl stalked off towards camp. Dale looked startled, “I don’t see this going well.”

Shane removed the hat from his head as the group started to walk, Dove started to take longer strides to keep up with the two officers. She heard Shane mention Daryl’s name and spoke up.

“I think you guys really need to think about doing this,” Dove spoke, concern in her voice. “I think you oughta try and break it to him as gently as possible. People like him tend to react violently, plus he seems pretty hyped up from losing that deer.”

The two men kept moving, but Rick glanced over his shoulder at her. “What’d you do before this?”

“I was a therapist. Getting ready to work on my PhD. Why?”

She didn’t miss the look the two men exchanged and fell back a step. Glenn flinched as he heard Daryl yell for Merle. “This is gonna be a shit show,” Glenn sighed.

Dove shook her head as Shane stopped Daryl in his tracks. “Poor guy. I got money on Dixon, though. He’s a scrapper.” She whispered so only Glenn could hear. Glenn let out a nervous chuckle as the two of them came to a stop next to the Jeep.

“There was a problem in Atlanta.” Seriously, Dove thought, he’s going to drag it out like this? What a mess.

“He dead?” Dove gripped Glenn’s wrist a little tighter than she meant to as she took a step closer to him.

“We’re not sure.”

“He either is or he ain’t!” Dove couldn’t really blame him for being so angry. She could only imagine how mad she would be if it were Carol on that roof. She would probably be trying to kick the ass of anyone she could find.

“No easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it,” Rick stated as he finally took a step forward. What a time to play good cop, bad cop.

Rick introduced himself, only to be met with, “Rick Grimes, you got somethin’ you wanna tell me?”

“Your brother was a danger to us all. So I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal,” Rick finished. Damn, she had to admire how he got right to the point about it. “He’s still there.”

Daryl started pacing like a caged animal. “Hold on. Let me process this. You’re saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there?” Daryl shouted. Dove could feel her pulse quickening as a million and one ways that she was trained to de-escalate someone this angry ran through her head. None of them seemed to make any sense right now under the heat from the burning Atlanta sun.

The next few seconds were a blur. Daryl yelled, Dove let out a startled yelp as the squirrels flew towards her, she stepped back closer to Glenn, and just like that, Daryl was on the ground. T-Dog stepped forward, shouting something about a knife. Dove took a few slow steps forward, eyes wide as saucers as she watched Shane bring him down in a chokehold after a few swings of a knife.

“Chokeholds illegal,” Daryl managed to choke out.

Shane sounded too comfortable with it for Dove’s liking. “Yeah, well, file a complaint.” Dove argued with herself internally as she watched Daryl keep struggling to be let go.

Rick knelt in front of the other two men, clearly trying to calm the situation down. “I’d like to have a calm discussion on this topic.”

Dove scowled as she squatted down between the two officers. “Not to tell you how to do your job, but it’s awful hard to have a calm discussion with a man whose air supply is being cut off,” she finished through gritted teeth.

Rick glanced at her and nodded before he turned back to Daryl, “You think we can manage that?”

The two officers nodded at each other and Dove stood up quickly as Daryl finally got released. She watched for a moment, still in shock about what just happened, when she saw Daryl still trying to catch his breath as he pointed at Shane. Dove turned quickly and placed a hand on Shane’s arm. “Just back up, man. Rick’s got it. You don’t need to be bad cop right now,” she pushed him back gently before she walked past the other two men, joining Lori by the steps to the RV.

“You good,” the other woman asked, her eyes not leaving the scene in front of her.

“Yeah just adrenaline rush. I’m fine,” Dove nodded as she brushed her hair out of her eyes. She turned her head slightly and met Carol’s worried gaze through the window of the RV. Dove held her hand up and nodded her head.

“It’s not Rick’s fault,” T-Dog interjected and suddenly the focus was on him. “I had the key. I dropped it.”

Daryl snapped again, “You couldn’t pick it up?”

“Well, I dropped it in a drain.” Dove couldn’t help but roll her eyes at this. This just sounded worse and worse the more they tried to explain it to him. At least no one was dead yet.

Her heart sank as she folded her arms in front of her chest, her focus shifted with everyone else’s as the men moved slowly around camp. She knew that Daryl and his brother were close but, shit. She didn’t expect to see him cry for even a second. One of her hands flew up to cover her mouth as she looked down at her feet.

She wasn’t surprised when Daryl shouted. “Hell with all y’all. Just tell me where he is so’s I can go get em.”

What truly shocked her was Lori. The older woman spoke up from her spot by the door at this. “He’ll show you. Won’t you?” She almost insisted with just her words as she locked eyes with her husband.

Dove was torn between following Lori back into the RV or following after Rick as the conflict came to a close. She, instead, chose to check on Carol and Sophia. Her steps were quiet as she walked up the steps to the RV. Dove slid into the seat at the table opposite of her family and reached a hand out to stroke Sophia’s arm. “Hey, bug. You were real brave out there today,” Dove spoke softly as Sophia lifted her head from her mother’s arms.

Sophia sniffled and rubbed her eyes before she looked between the two sisters. “I was really scared,” the young girl whispered.

Dove smiled a little and nodded her head. “I was too, bug. But you did the right thing by runnin like that. Hell, I don’t think either of us knew you could run that fast!” Carol chuckled softly at this as she stroked the young girl’s hair.

“She’s right, Sophia. You kept yourself safe. That was the right thing to do.” Carol kissed the top of her daughter’s forehead before she whispered for her to do something that sounded a lot like ‘go check on Carl’.

Dove drummed her fingers on the table as her thoughts raced through her head. Carol’s voice finally pulled her out of her own head. “You want to go with them, don’t you.” Carol stated in a hushed voice.

Dove’s eyes shot up. Her hazel eyes widened a little bit as she felt color rush to her cheeks. “I…I was thinking about it.”

Carol clicked her tongue and shook her head. “I don’t want my sister out there dyin’ for someone like Merle Dixon.” Her voice didn’t raise above a whisper, though she didn’t sound pleased at all.

Dove rolled her eyes at this. “That’s not what I was thinking of!”

“Then what were you…”

Dove cut her older sister off as she reached out and took her hand, “What if that was me up there, huh? Or you? Would you want me to just leave you up there like that to die?” Dove hissed. “It’s the right thing to do, Carol. Merle or not, it’s the right thing to do.”

Carol’s eyes widened slightly as she took in her sister’s words and nodded her head slowly. “If that’s what you want to do, I can’t stop you. But I just want you to be careful. I don’t want to be explaining to Sophia why her aunt isn’t around anymore.”

A small smirk graced Dove’s face as she squeezed Carol’s hand gently. “Oh please. I’m always careful.”

It was Carol’s turn to roll her eyes as Dove rose from her seat, kissed her older sister on the top of her head, and descended the stairs out of the RV.

Dove looked around camp before spotting Daryl by the fire. She took a long deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth before trudging forward. “Hey, you alright?” Dumb question.

“What kinda stupid question is that,” Daryl snapped at her.

Dove raised both her hands in front of her, a tired expression on her face. “Right. Guess I deserved that, it was pretty fucking stupid huh.”

Daryl just stared at her for a moment. He had the type of eyes that made her uneasy sometimes; eyes that could stare right into your soul if you’d let them. “What do you want?”

Dove let out a heavy sigh as she watched Carol approach her laundry station out of the corner of her eye. She stood up a little straighter and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I wanna go with you and Rick. Try to bring back Merle. I figure the more people, the better. Plus, y’all might need someone to balance out all the testosterone in that car.”

Daryl stared at her again for a few seconds before scoffing at her. “Don’t need no one else out there, especially not you. Can you even shoot a gun?”

Dove grinded her teeth together as she nodded her head slowly. “Well, excuse me. I may not know how to shoot a gun but I am just as capable as Andrea and Jacqui and they go out into the city all the time! Give me a blunt object and I can take out any walker just as good as a gun, I bet.” Her hands were shaking as she unfolded her arms and shoved her hands in her pockets.

“Alright.” Daryl turned his attention from her.

Dove’s jaw almost dropped in shock as she stood still. “Excuse me?”

Daryl turned back to face her, eyes narrowed slightly. “You heard me, girl. You’re grown, you wanna go? Can’t stop ya. Just don’t expect to get your ass saved.”

“Oh don’t worry, I won’t,” a serene smile was on Dove’s face now.

Shane would definitely have to learn to hold his tongue if they were going to bring Merle back as he called Merle a “douchebag”.

Daryl pointed at the man, “Hey, you better watch what you say!”

Shane nodded his head all sincerely before uttering, “No no. Douchebag’s what I meant.”

Dove rolled her eyes and brought the palms of her hands up to rub her eyes, “Dear god what did I do to deserve this.”

Lori spoke up from her seat by what would be that night’s fire. “So what? You and Daryl, that’s your big plan?”

Carol eyed Dove for a moment before the group’s attention shifted to Glenn. “Oh come on!”

Rick spoke, “You know the way. You’ve been there before. In and out, no problem! You said so yourself.” He was right. Glenn wasn’t shy about telling everyone in the group how well he knew the city and he had dug his own grace.

“That’s just great. Now you’re gonna risk three men?” Shane scoffed.

T-Dog spoke up next, “Four.”

Daryl scoffed, “My day just gets better and better, don’t it?”

Dove rolled her eyes, “Might as well get this out of the way now and make it five.”

Dale glanced between them all and nodded his head. “That’s five.”

Shane shook his head and began to pace a little bit. “You’re putting every single one of us at risk. Just know that, Rick. C’mon. You saw that walker! It was here. It was in camp,” Shane lectured. “They come back, we need every able body we’ve got. We need em to protect camp.”

Rick nodded his head, “Sounds to me like what you need is more guns.”

Dove’s head was spinning. Sophia shuffled her feet as Dove walked over to them. She knelt in front of the girl, taking her hands in her as the others talked about the guns. “Now you listen to me, alright? I’m gonna be just fine! I promise. I always am. But I need you to promise me something too okay?”

Sophia nodded her head and listened intently. “I need you to look out for your mama until I get back, okay? Just make sure everything’s alright. Hold down the fort for me. Promise?” She released Sophia’s hands and held a pinky out to her.

Sophia locked her pinky with her aunt’s before she wrapped her arms around her neck in a hug. “Be safe.”

Dove kissed her niece on the forehead before standing up and brushing off her knees. “Be safe, Carol.” Dove hugged her sister tightly before she turned to see what was going on.

Dove lifted herself into the back of the van, her eyes were beginning to glaze over from boredom as she waited before she almost leapt out of her skin at the sound of a horn honking. From the driver’s seat, Glenn let out a startled shout as Daryl stepped on the horn again. “C’mon let’s go!”

Dove rubbed her temples and muttered to herself before placing a hand on the crowbar that she’d managed to sweet talk out of Jim. She would definitely have to make sure that she made it back now.

The young woman blew a kiss to her family as the door to the back of the van was slammed shut and they pulled away.

It was oddly silent on the way to the city. Dove positioned herself so she could see out the front windshield. “This is the first time I’ve left camp in the past two months.” She whispered to Glenn and Rick.

Rick turned his head, a sympathetic look on his face. “You might not want to look until we get there, then. Might be a bit of a shock. Trust me on that one.”

Dove took in the man’s words for a moment before she turned and faced the back of the van again.

Daryl finally spoke up for the first time since they started on the road. “He best be alright.”

T-Dog sighed. “The only thing that’s getting through that door is us. He’s fine.”

The van finally lurched to a stop and Glenn called back, “We walk from here.”

Dove groaned as she pulled herself to her feet and hopped out of the back of the van. “Oh shit, I’m getting old.” She mumbled to T-Dog as he hopped down next to her.

T-Dog shook his head at her. “You’re getting old? Just wait ‘til you hit 30.”

Dove laughed quietly as she took off down the train tracks after the rest of the group.

Rick paused as they stepped through a space in the gate that led from the tracks to the road. “Merle first or guns?”

Daryl snapped. “Merle! We ain’t even havin this conversation.”

Dove shook her head and motioned towards Daryl with her free hand, the other still tightly gripping the crowbar. “I’m with him on this. I mean a human life or ammo?”

Rick stared at both of them, clearly trying to keep his cool “We are having this conversation. You know the geography, it’s your call.” He turned to Glenn as the group began to walk.

“Merle’s closest. The guns would mean doubling back.” Glenn stated and Dove wasn’t sure if he was lying or not, but she was grateful for that nonetheless.

Her hazel eyes seemed to take in everything that had happened to Atlanta as they walked through the city. The city she had worked in and know so well was practically gone in a matter of weeks. It made her chest feel tight to see everything, but she knew she couldn’t stop moving.

She stepped lightly into the department store behind T-Dog and in front of Glenn as she went. She stopped, crowbar raised as a walker made it’s way through the aisles of the store. Daryl didn’t waste any time shooting the thing through the head.

Glenn moved forward and directed them to a staircase. It was a lot farther up than it looked, or maybe she was out of shape, but the steps were seeming to take their toll on her as they worked their way towards the roof.

The men reached the last landing as Dove rounded the corner just a few steps behind them. She took the last few steps slowly as she watched Daryl kick the door open after the chain was finally cut.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. She observed as she ran up the last few steps out onto the roof with the others. Merles Dixon was not a quiet man and he surely would’ve reacted to a door being kicked the fuck open.

Daryl’s screams for his brother turned into screams of panic. Dove’s heart dropped as she stepped out onto the roof behind Glenn and she saw it. A hand flew up to cover her mouth as she fought back the urge to vomit. Merle’s hand laid there on the ground next to a bloody hacksaw but Merle Dixon the man was gone.

@crossbowking

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #Daryl DIxon fic #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x oc #daryl x reader #carol peletier #The Walking Dead #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #my writing

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tloujm · 4 years

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Part XV: How About Now?

Author’s Notes: Nothing to see here but Joel slowly breaking out his dad jeans and interacting with the fic’s newest character. I hope y’all enjoy this one. It’s a little bit longer than the last two and its a build up to some major fluffy plot development.

Genre: Fluff with a couple drops of angst

Summary: Joel tries to bond with the new girl. He convinces you to go camping with him. The two of you take the relationship to the next level.

Ship: Joel x Reader

Joel’s boots crunched against the wet gravel as he found himself walking toward the daycare center. He knew that you’d be there. This week had been so busy for the two of you, that you’d barely gotten time to see each other. He acknowledged what the feeling was that pulled at his heart strings; he missed you.

With the intention of pulling you away from your duties, if only for a moment, Joel walked inside and glanced around the play room for you. His eyes fell on something familiar, but it was not you. It was his jacket that he recognized, still wrapped around the shoulders of the new little girl who arrived in Jackson not so long ago. It was as if she had never taken it off. Joel noticed that she was sitting by herself at a table. As he walked closer, he found that she was drawing. His heavy footsteps alerted her, causing her to drop the pencil in her hand and look up at him. With a low grunt, he crouched down until he was eye level with her.

She shrugged off the jacket and handed it to him. “No, you can keep it, kiddo. I have another.” He waved it away before she placed it on her lap like a blanket. “Let’s see what you’re drawing here. Oh, well now I believe this one is called a Velociraptor. Yep, I learned this from a little known movie that came out back in…’93 I wanna say. Some feisty creatures. They may have been small compared to the rest, but you wouldn’t wanna get on the wrong side of those fellas.” Joel said, filling up the air of the one sided conversation. “You ever seen a dinosaur in real life? S’pose you haven’t. That’s wayyyy before your time.” He attempted to make her laugh. “Technically, I’ve seen them, their bones at least. I used to go to science museums all the time before the outbreak. You’ve probably never been to one, have you?” He genuinely waited for an answer, to which she barely shook her head. “I know of one not too far from here. Maybe me and (Y/N) will take you one day if you’re up to it.” Joel got back up slowly and stretched his legs until his knees popped. He tipped his imaginary cowboy hat as a farewell and continued his search for you.

Joel eventually found you in the backyard taking down laundry from the line. “Hi, darlin’.”

You put the clip back on the line and threw yourself into his arms. “Hey! I missed you.” Hearing you say that melted his heart.

“Missed you too. You know, I was thinking we should go campin’.”

“That’s random.” You laughed off his suggestion.

“Why? I reckon we can go hiking, fish, cozy up next to a fire, lay under the stars.”

“I don’t even know how to fish.”

“I’ll teach you.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I might be a bit rusty. I mean I haven’t gone fishing since I was a kid, but I’ll get back into the swing of things. But those other things, I know you like.”

“I mean I do, but we can do that here in Jackson.” You countered.

“Yeah, but it’ll be something different.”

“I don’t know, Joel. Ever since we settled here, we haven’t gone beyond the gates unless we had to.”

“C’mon now, don’t tell me you forgot about your birthday. The aquarium, remember?”

You glare at him knowingly. “How can I ever forget. But in my defense, I didn’t know we were going to leave the walls of Jackson. All you said was that it was a surprise and that was it. I just don’t want to run into any hunters or people from a hostile settlement.”

“I thought I was the worrisome one in this relationship.” Joel joked. “Listen, this ain’t our first rodeo. We’ve survived a lot out there and not for nothin’. People or clickers, we’re good at staying alive and even better at it when we’re together.” He placed his hands on your shoulders and rubbed them up and down your arms. “I promise we won’t go far. We’ll pick a patch of land along a recently cleared route. I trust you. You trust me?” You nodded. “Good! We’ll have fun! This is excitin’.”

“You know, I’ve never gone camping before.” You spoke up.

“Really? Not even an RV or cabin?”

You shook your head. “You know I love nature just as much as you, but I’m really just a city girl. I was used to seeing animals on tv or behind a barrier at the zoo. The wildest animal I’d ever seen before the outbreak was a raccoon. Maybe the occasional deer. The closest to hiking I ever did before was at a nature preserve park. It may all be outside, but damn, the actual woods are a whole other story.” He let out a light laugh. “Before the outbreak, I bought all my meat from the store and had a tendency to kill every plant I owned.”

“Well now look at ya, a natural country girl.”

You laughed. “I never chose this life. This life chose me.”

“It chose a lot of folks, but it suits you.”

“You don’t gotta butter me up anymore, I already agreed to go camping with you.” You said while giving him a sly smile.

“I mean it, it does.”

“Why do you wanna go camping anyway? I can see a hike for the afternoon, but everyday out there since the outbreak has felt like one big camping trip.”

“That wasn’t campin’. The difference is that campin’ is fun, you’ll see.” He tried to convince you.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” You said. He looked at you blankly. “Why though! We’ve been in Jackson for years now and you’ve never suggested it before.”

He shrugged. “Now just seems like a good time. Jackson’s in a good place. They won’t miss us for a day or two. Besides, we have some downtime coming up and I feel like I haven’t really gotten to spend time with you in awhile. I just want it to be you and me again for a minute.” He blushed at the last part.

You smiled at his defensive romantic side. “Kind of like a romantic weekend getaway?” You playfully wiggled your eyebrows.

He deepened the tone of his voice. “That’s exactly what it’s gonna be.”

“When should we go?”

“How’s the day after tomorrow sound?” He suggested.

“Sounds perfect.” You replied. The idea of camping was growing on you. The clothes line was now empty and the basket was full of folded linen. Joel followed you as you walked back inside to put them up.

“Now, onto other business.” He began.

You looked back in confusion. “What else is there?”

“I don’t know if you recall, but I remember a certain someone promising another certain someone that she’d move in with that…certain some...the original someone…wait um...” Joel began stammering over his thoughts. “It’s you. That certain someone was you who promised that if I made you breakfast in bed, you’d live with me again; no more of this back and forth. And if you recall again, I did in fact make you that breakfast.”

“Pancakes and freshly squeezed orange juice? How could a girl forget? They were delicious by the way.”

“For bonus points, I do remember being right as well when I said there wasn’t gonna be any bloaters in that manor.” Joel added on. “So what do you say?” He asked, trying to hide his eagerness.

“Suppose you were right about that, so yeah sure.” You said.

He looked at you for a moment before looking down at his feet. “Don’t make it sound like you’re doing it because you lost a bet or somethin’. If you’re not ready, I have no intention of forcing you, but,” He lets out a sigh. “I guess I don’t understand why you wouldn't want to.”

“Joel, I didn’t mean to say it like that. I love you, you know that.”

“Sounds like a ‘but’ is coming on.”

“It’s just new to me is all. I know we’ve lived together once, but I’ve never had a serious relationship with anyone before you and I sure as hell never lived with a romantic partner before you. The outbreak happened right after I graduated college. I only ever lived with my parents and a couple of roommates. I know it sounds stupid, but I’ve never had my own place before where it was just me doing whatever I wanted, however I wanted, wherever I wanted. I love spending time with you, believe me I do, but there’s something about having your own space, you know. I hate the way in which I got here, me having my own place, but I’ve grown to like it. Does that make me selfish?” You genuinely asked.

He let out a deep sigh. “No, it doesn’t. But, you know It’d be your house too. It won’t be you moving into my house; it’d be you coming back to our house. If you’re comfortable here, I can move in with you or we can find a whole new house altogether.”

“I don’t know, Joel.” You replied.

“Just think about it alright, darlin?” He requested. He stuck his hands in his back pockets and paced the floor around the linen closet. The air fell silent, but he wasn’t done pleading his case. He just had to find the words. “You may account your life experiences, or lack thereof, to being young, but you probably never thought about the fact that I’ve never lived by myself before the outbreak either. I was a teen dad. I went from living with my dad and brother to living with my daughter and her mother. After she left us, it was just me and Sarah all the way up until that day. After me and Tommy fell out, I was on my own for the first time. I...uh...It wasn’t easy; none of it.” He shook his head before looking at you with tired, pleading eyes. “I’m tired of being alone, (Y/N).” He sniffled and then you saw the corner of his mouth twitch up. “I know I’m not much to look at in the morning, but I want nothing more than to wake up next to you everyday. That’s where I stand, (Y/N), but if that’s not where you are, that’s ok ‘cause you’re the only one I’d wait for. I just want you to want this too.”

“Joel, I never...I” You tried to begin. He was right, you never thought about the fact that he always had someone. When you first met him, you grew to know him as a withdrawn, independent man. “I want to wake up next to you too, but not just that. I want to spend the middle of my day and end of my day with you too in our house.” You stood on your tiptoes and rubbed the pad of your thumb against his wrinkles.

He closed his eyes at your touch. “I need you to mean that.”

“I do.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too!” You smiled up at him.

“How much longer do you have here?” Joel inquired.

“I just have to finish folding the laundry.”

“Meet me at your place when you’re done. I’ll go and find some boxes.”

“Wait, what?”

“What better time than now? The rest of my day is clear and we still have a few more hours of daylight. What do you think, darlin’?” You playfully rolled your eyes at his eagerness, but seriously couldn’t think of a reason not to start today.

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wilhelmjfink · 4 years

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Daryl Dixon Drabble #6 — Pt. 3

Clearly, this is no longer a Drabble. I have no self control. This has been sitting in my documents for months, and I really like it, so why haven’t I posted it? Because my life is a fucking mess, y’all. It’s not very long, but you don’t care.

Who wants to guess how many more parts of this I will add over the next fucking fifteen years I make you wait? Who knows. Enjoy it now. Or don’t.

—

You’d half expected him to take off when you made it back to the campsite you shared — if you could even still consider that after the events of the night — but were instead surprised to see Rick, Lorie and Herschel had made their way into camp and stood around the glow of your campfire. Rick and Lorie were armed, their bodies stiff and uncomfortable and on edge it seemed, and they both turned at the sound of you and Daryl approaching in sync before lowering their handguns with their features softening in recognition.

“There y’all are,” Lorie exhaled with relief, tucking her pistol back into the holster resting on her hip. Still buzzed, you couldn’t help but notice Rick’s revolver remained in his grasp. “What in the world is going on?”

It was then you realized that you hadn’t come up with an adequate excuse for why exactly you and Daryl had literally been running around in the woods; and also the exact moment you realized how fucking stupid you felt, running after Daryl when he stormed off as if he — of all people — would do something careless and manage to get into trouble. And then what? You went after him like you would be able to save him from any danger. As if you didn’t just drag him into a dangerously idiotic situation that could’ve easily been avoided if you weren’t acting like a drunken frat girl, calling him names and spitting lies to hurt him and only then acknowledging your true feelings after you thought you may have pushed him away for good.

And as if you weren’t already embarrassed enough of course Daryl had you covered while you blindly fumbled the metaphorical football and tripped over your own feet, opening his mouth before you could manage to choke out some half-assed story about a stray walker in the night.

“Thought we heard somethin’ crawlin’ around,” he replied, smooth as the whiskey he (always) vaguely smelled of, once again just reminding you that, Jesus Christ, get a fucking grip — what is this, middle school? “Found a straggler outside the next pasture — fell over the fence or somethin’.”

You turned to look at him, to see if maybe he would be looking back at you and somehow convey to you what the fuck you were supposed to say or do or feel right as Rick decided to speak up.

“We heard screamin’, his expression was unreadable in the flickering glow of your slowly-dying campfire. “You alright?”

You could still feel your head spinning and the boney fingers intertwined in your hair and pulling your scalp but you were determined now to prove something, literally anything, to Daryl that you made sure to answer for yourself before he could try.

“Yeah, it got the jump on me,” you blurted out, almost before he even finished his last word, then dropping your gaze to the ground shamefully. “It just — y’know, scared me. But... Daryl got it.”

You were briefly self-conscious that you’d tried so hard to casually add on that last bit that it came out as bitter and immature as you really felt, and you forced yourself to swallow down the nausea that rose along with the shame and the flush of warmth from your chest to your cheeks.

“Well, good, but next time...”

Daryl waved a dismissive hand as he broadly stepped past the sheriff’s wife and closer to campsite. “Won’t be no next time. ’Sides, it ain’t nothin’ I couldn’t handle myself. Didn’t need to alert the whole damn village.”

Lorie — god damn Lorie, of course, who could never just leave things alone and always has to poke and prod opened her mouth to argue. “Still. We shouldn’t — “

“Man, enough with this fuckin’ ‘we’ stuff, alright? Ain’t no ‘we’ here — no ‘us’ — so give it a rest ‘n leave me the hell alone!”

You were left in silence, the wake of Daryl’s rage burning a trail behind his heels that violently kicked up dirt and rocks at you where you stood whilst watching him storm off. It was a very familiar sensation, the onset of tears threatening to fall, but you always knew when wanting to withhold them back would prove futile and instead of wasting the last of your energy trying, you hung your head and instead focused on trying to keep them as quiet as possible, at the very least.

“We’ll have to make a lap around the perimeter,” Herschel added nonchalantly, unbothered by Daryl’s emotional outburst and the fact that it had you choking back sobs as you stood in front of him. “Make sure all of the fencing is still holdin’ up okay. Maybe add some barbed wire or electricity or somethin’.”

You felt a gentle hand on your shoulder and stiffened, but saw Lorie standing at your side with her head cocked curiously and somehow pitifully at you. She offered you a tight smile.

“Yeah, tomorrow,” she agreed softly. “Let’s get back to bed. Why don’t you come sleep in the RV tonight? Carl can — “

Harshly shrugging her palm from your shoulder you straightened up, trying to remember how the current state of your own camp might be — you’d left it behind with a bottle of whiskey in tow to cross the few hundred yards between as you had the previous few nights, but that all seemed like a lifetime ago in retrospect. “No, I’m fine. I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

As you strode away you could almost feel Lorie reaching for you, surely to add a comment of some sort or offer at least an escort back to your own camp, but you were extremely thankful to whatever it was that had convinced her to just keep her mouth shut for once in her fucking life.

The campfire was low now, the embers burning brightly within the logs they intertwined but with very little of the once roaring flames left. It smoked, the scent still somehow comforting to your soul even after the last few months of hell you’d endured — and once foolishly thought only possible within cheap horror flicks — managed to taint the long-gone memories of camping for fun instead of a dangerous lack of secure shelter. You wouldn’t have met Daryl if it weren’t for having lived through all of those nightmares. And, yet somehow, that thought still managed to scare you in a way that monsters and zombies never could.

Torn from your thoughts by the unmistakable sound of your boot crunching glass beneath your foot, you stopped. Just a few hours ago, those boots had been insignificant to you, tossed carelessly to the side of Daryl’s tent where they lay for the rest of the night. Light purple socks draped over them, just as quickly forgotten — it was a small luxury, but one almost instantly you’d grown to cherish when your life suddenly became full of long, taxing walks through all the various terrains the state of Georgia had to offer during the dog days of summer. You had only been a shot or two deep, but you were already basking in the sensation of thick, luscious grass against your bare feet once again.

“Shouldn’t be barefoot out here,” Daryl had quipped harmlessly from where he knelt opposite of you, stoking the workings of your campfire in the evening glow. You opened just one eye, content to relax where you were, but your body instantly began to sit up, already working to get up from where the tree stump you were sitting on and make its way to your discarded socks and boots.

“And why not?” You responded curiously. Of course, you were acutely aware of several reasons you shouldn’t be barefoot in the beginning chapters of what you safely assumed was the end of the world as you knew it — the only thing you were curious about was the nagging voice in your head you were struggling to ignore that made you realize you just wanted to hear him talk. Didn’t matter about what, apparently.

Instead of a gruff explanation about how you realistically needed to be prepared to jump up and run for your life at any second, Daryl had just shrugged half-heartedly. “Fire. Glass. Bees. Ya know.”

Doubled over you were already retrieving your socks and boots from up off the ground. “Fireglass bees?! That sounds awful!”

There was the soft snap of a twig and then the feeling of it bouncing off of your back, tossed playfully by the archer as he continued to break kindling over the growing fire.

“Don’t come cryin’ to me when ya get a shard of glass lodged in there,” he’d said lightly. “Shit hurts.”

You chanced a quick glance around the fire pit and proximity of the camp. “I don’t see any broken glass around here.”

“Well, yeah, nobody ever sees it before walkin’ on it. People don’t cut themselves open on purpose, y’know.” He pauses. “Smart people, anyway.”

You vividly remember the way his mouth quirked up into a smirk; the way you felt so relaxed and relieved that he seemed to feel the same way. The glass at your feet was the shattered remains of the once full bottle of whiskey that you liked to assume was solely responsible for how things had gone wrong that night. You don’t remember who dropped it, or even hearing it break.

But there you were, on your hands and knees in the dirt as you hunted for it’s pieces using what little light remained of the dying fire beside you. You didn’t know why you were doing it, either — as if you could somehow actually retrieve every last bit of the bottle, you could glue it back into its original form, a fragile vessel too pure for any leaks or cracks or chips that could compromise its integrity, and then maybe you could do the same to the deeply complex relationship you had with Daryl that you had managed to destroy in literal seconds.

Heavy tears obscured your vision and you blinked them away furiously, heart pounding in your chest, trembling hands instinctively clenching into fists to subdue the sudden need to just fucking hit something all the while simultaneously closing around the collection of glass pieces you’d gathered in your left hand over your last few minutes of absent-mindedness.

With a hiss of pain you released your grip, several shards falling from your grip but some remaining by way of stabbing themselves into the soft flesh of your palm.

Ironic, you thought, that Daryl had never warned you about getting glass lodged into your hand.

Then again, he shouldn’t have had to. People don’t cut themselves open on purpose.

Smart people, anyway.

#the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #twd #daryl dixon drabble #the walking dead drabbles #the walking dead daryl dixon

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galaxxyboy · 4 years

Text

gimmie gimmie s’more

summary: Shane somehow convinces Ryan to go on a weekend long, technology free sex-cation in the middle of the woods, with nothing more than a tent and a blanket to protect them from the elements.

or a weekend full of sex and feelings dump in the woods word count: 4,469 warnings: trans character, trans!ryan, explicit smut (vaginal penetration, unsafe sex, safe sane and consensual)

“Ryan. Ryaaaan. Ryan. Ry-guy. Baby. Love of my life. Boogara. B boy. Berryga-“

“Holy shit.” Ryan doesn’t look up from his phone where he’s playing mobile sudoku like an old man, but he does tilt his chin in Shane’s direction.

“Look at me,” Shane says. Ryan complies as best as he can, (Shane is lying on his chest, after all, which is an awkward angle), but at least he’s done with mobile sudoku. Shane casts his eyes up at Ryan, fucking gorgeous and open, and then he claps his hands together and says, “camping.”

“Nope,” Ryan replies, and he’s back to mobile sudoku before Shane can even finish his sentence.

“Ry,” Shane says. He makes grabby hands at Ryan and Ryan finally puts his phone down to lace their fingers together. “It’ll be fun.”

The thing is, Ryan, in spite of Shane’s relentless teasing, isn’t some kind of Californian flower. He’s been camping before with his family as a kid, and actually enjoyed it. That kind of camping, though, involved a rented RV with an actual bedroom and a place to cook food. He figures Shane, a wild midwesterner, has something different in mind. Some kind of rustic camping experience where they’ll both be mauled by a bear in the middle of fucking, or something.

And besides, Ryan would rather take his rare time off from worrying about Watcher fucking Shane in their bed, in their house, and not in the bear infested woods, thank you very much.

“The last time you said something would be fun, I had to bring you to a Vegas ER to have a dragon dildo surgically removed,” Ryan points out.

Shane shudders at the memory. “It wasn’t exactly surgical,” he argues.

“Dude, they knocked you out for a good twenty minutes.”

Shane waves a hand as if he can get rid of that memory. “Well anyway,” he says. He rests his hands on Ryan’s stomach, under his shirt, and looks up at him through big brown eyes. Dirty pool . “Just imagine it, Ry,” he says, his voice soft. “Just me and you. No one around for miles. The sun on our skin.” He moves his hand lower. “ All our skin.”

“I fucking hate you,” Ryan answers, his voice a bit rough. Shane doesn’t answer, and Ryan raises an eyebrow at him. “No more dragon dildos?”

Shane holds his other hand, the one not currently attempting a break into Ryan’s pants, up in the air. “I do solemnly swear.”

Ryan sighs. “Fine!” he answers, and Shane rewards him with a rather mind blowing orgasm, so Ryan can’t be totally to blame for his Pavlonian response to Shane’s puppy dog eyes.

FRIDAY

Ryan isn’t sure if he should feel vindicated or scared that apparently apprehensive was the right word to describe how one should feel about Shane’s camping plans. As Shane unloads his car, it’s brought to Ryan’s sharp attention that Shane has packed very lightly: a cooler full of cheap beer, a small tent, an inflatable mattress (which, like, okay), a single blanket and multiple bags of graham crackers, marshmallows and chocolate bars. It seems that he’s brought no real food for a three day camping trip. Ryan’s not entirely convinced that they’ll be able to live off this diet, but Shane, taking off to their location with a tent and cooler in hand, seems non-pulsed.

“Hey Shane?” Ryan asks. Shane turns to look at him and Ryan holds up the cooler and one of the bags. “The fuck?”

“S’mores,” Shane answers, which does not answer Ryan’s question but okay. “Come on. Grab the rest of it. We’re burning daylight, baby!”

Ryan grabs the rest of the stuff, grumbling under his breath as he follows Shane. Shane arrives at the camping site first, true to his word, there are no people around, and pulls out the instructions for the tent. A smirk spreads over Ryan’s face as he watches Shane, furrowed brow and all, reading fucking instructions on how to put up a tent. “Need help, bud?”

Shane looks up at Ryan and rolls his eyes at the cocky face staring back at him. “Nah,” he answers. “I got this. Just sit right there and look pretty, baby. Leave the hard work to me.”

Ryan sits on the edge of the cooler and watches Shane struggle for the next ten minutes, grumbling under his breath. Eventually, Ryan decides to stop torturing the guy and gets up, helps him set up the tent. It takes all of two minutes, and Ryan smiles at Shane when it’s done. “Fuck you,” Shane says. “I totally had that in the bag.”

Ryan laughs. “You’re such a liar.” He puckers his lips at Shane and says, mockingly, “say thank you, baby.”

“Thank you, baby,” Shane replies as he presses his lips to Ryan’s. “Now come on,” he says. “Let’s get this air mattress going.”

Unfortunately, the two of them don’t have as much luck with the air mattress as they did with the tent. “I see,” Shane says, kneeling on the floor. “It needs batteries.”

Ryan rolls his eyes at Shane. “You didn’t think to replace them?”

“It’s not my fault,” Shane defends. He flops the end of the air mattress on the floor. “It’s Steven’s air mattress.”

Ryan is kind of morbidly curious how Shane talked Steven into giving them his air mattress, or why Steven even has an air mattress in the first place, but he doesn’t ask. Instead, he says, “well I’ll just take the car and go get some more batteries.”

Ryan reaches for the keys, but Shane shakes his head. “Immersion, baby,” he responds, tapping either side of Ryan’s chest. And that’s how Ryan ends up that night laying on the cold, damp floor with only a blanket and Shane to keep him warm. Comfortable.

Ryan, trying and failing to sleep while staring at the ceiling, says “I hate you,” into the silence. When Shane doesn’t respond, Ryan looks down at him. Shane’s got his head on Ryan’s chest, long legs bracketing Ryan’s, arms around his waist, dead asleep. He looks so peaceful like this, no worry on his face, and Ryan, despite himself, brushes Shane’s hair and thinks about how fucking lucky he is to have someone like Shane.

SATURDAY

Ryan wakes up to Shane sneaking out from their blanket. “No,” he whines, groggy, reaching his arms in Shane’s general direction. When there’s no reply, Ryan squints his eyes open.

Shane isn’t in their tent at all. Ryan thinks Shane may have been mauled by bears which, while obviously traumatizing, would kind of serve him right for not listening to Ryan in the first place.

“Shane?” Ryan calls. He reluctantly leaves the safety of their tent to hunt for Shane’s dead body, which is how he finds Shane sitting over the edge of a cliff, watching the sunrise. The fact that the sun is rising cements in Ryan’s mind that they definitely should be sleeping, but he finds it’s hard to be grumpy at being woken up so early when Shane looks fucking etheral, brilliant yellow and orange rays coating his skin, reflecting off the water, rising heat covering Ryan like a blanket.

Ryan sits next to Shane and laces their fingers together. Neither of them speak for a while, watching the sunrise until the sun has fully risen, and the heat is a little more present. Shane turns to kiss Ryan, whispers, “love you, baby,” like a secret for the two of them to share, and then promptly stands, quickly shreds his clothes (Ryan gives him an incredulous look for that one), and jumps into the water.

“What the fuck?” Ryan shouts down at his boyfriend when he emerges from the water, hair a mess and laughing.

“Skinny dipping!” Shane answers. Ryan feels like he has god damn whiplash from the complete 180 his morning has taken. “Join me, Ry!”

Ryan, as with most things, feels drawn in like a moth to a flame to one of Shane’s crazy schemes. Despite himself, he shrugs off his clothes and jumps in the water next to Shane, making sure to thoroughly soak the asshole to teach him a lesson.

“Hey!” Shane shouts when Ryan resurfaces from the water. He splashes Ryan, and Ryan splashes back, and eventually they’re in a full out splash war like children. It ends when Shane holds his hands up as Ryan splashes a particularly big splash in his face. “You win, you win.”

Ryan’s giggles die out as he takes Shane in. His skin is glowing in the morning sun, his hair a mess on top of his head, his eyes sparkly. Ryan moves closer so that he can pull Shane towards him until their skin is touching. He brushes a piece of Shane’s hair out of his face and says, “you’re fucking beautiful.”

Shane goes red. “You’re fucking beautiful,” he answers, and then pulls Ryan into a kiss. He tastes like seawater and s’mores and something so undeniably Shane that Ryan kind of never wants to stop kissing him, like, ever.

When Shane pulls back, he fixes Ryan with a devious smile. “You know,” he says conversationally, “back in the day, I held the record amongst my friends for the longest any of us could hold our breaths underwater.”

Sounds like a boastful lie, but to be fair, so does most of Shane’s crazy midwestern childhood. “Yeah?” Ryan asks.

“Yeah,” Shane replies. He skirts his fingers up Ryan’s thigh, almost touching him but not quite, and says against Ryan’s ear, all husky in a way that makes Ryan fucking melt, “you wanna see?”

When Ryan nods, Shane backs him up against the cliff and uses the momentum of the water to lift Ryan onto the cliff. Ryan wants to argue that this is really no testament to his breath-holding abilities, but then Shane pulls Ryan close by his ass and attaches his mouth to Ryan’s clit and Ryan really loses the ability to argue anything.

Shane pushes two fingers into Ryan’s hole and moves slowly, languidly, as if he has all the time in the world to make Ryan come apart. He lets up on Ryan’s clit to kiss just above, his thighs, everywhere but where Ryan needs him. Ryan locks his legs around Shane’s head, drawing him in closer. Shane pulls his fingers out just enough to spread Ryan’s lips, and he licks a broad stripe over them.

“Shane, Shane,” Ryan chants, his hands everywhere: Shane’s hair, his shoulders, his arms, wrapped around Ryan’s thighs. “You gotta-you-please-”

Thankfully, Shane has had training in understanding Ryan’s babbling and, perhaps more thankfully, he has a heart today. He pushes his fingers back deep into Ryan, gives him something to clench around, and sucks Ryan’s clit into his mouth again, hard. Ryan feels his eyes roll into the back of his head, and he’s pretty sure he would faint into the water if it wasn’t for Shane’s ridiculously big hands on his thighs. Ryan’s soaked and he’s not sure if it’s the lake or him.

When Ryan starts breathing hard around whines, Shane lets up on his clit and instead lets Ryan grind against the bridge of his nose, thrusting two fingers into him in a way that has Ryan gasping and pushing back against his hand. “Yeah,” Shane says. “Yeah, give it to me,” and then he curls his fingers against Ryan’s g-spot and Ryan sees stars.

Ryan comes hard and Shane follows him through it, thrusting his fingers hard, following the manic thrust of Ryan’s hips with his tongue fucking everywhere until Ryan comes down from it and pushes Shane’s head away. Shane pulls his fingers out of Ryan and says, through heavy breaths, “see? What did I tell you? I could hold my breath for hours .”

He’s so fucking full of himself but he’s also so gorgeous, red lips and wet face, that Ryan kind of has to pull him into a deep kiss.

They spend the rest of the day lazing around, laying in the grass in the afternoon sun, Ryan curled into Shane’s side, both of them naked as the day they were born, with no fear of people coming to find them and seeing them like this. No one around for miles. The sun on their skin. Ryan is a little loath to admit Shane was right.

He must fall asleep for a while, because he wakes up to Shane tending to a campfire. He has a pair of Ryan’s basketball shorts slung low around his waist and not much else, and Ryan just wants to look at him for a while. Unfortunately, Shane has supersonic Ryan detectors. “Hey,” he greets. He turns to Ryan with a goofy smile. “Steven called.”

Ryan reaches out for Shane and Shane complies, letting Ryan pull him into a grass-centric cuddle. “I thought we were having a technology free weekend,” Ryan says, a lazy hand coming up to rub circles on Shane’s bare hip.

Shane laughs a little scary against Ryan’s skin. Ryan pulls back to look at Shane. “What did you do to Steven Lim?”

“Nothing,” Shane answers, though his smile gives away the fact that he’s a liar. “He asked where you were and I informed him you were sleeping and thoroughly immersed in our weekend long sex trip. To which he spluttered and hung up the phone.”

Ryan laughs and tucks his face into the crook of Shane’s neck. “You’re horrible.”

Shane chuckles softly, his voice syrupy, as he dances his fingers along Ryan’s thigh. “You know,” he starts.

Ryan sighs softly and spreads his legs as Shane rubs his fingertips against Ryan’s opening. “I’m technically a liar.”

Ryan tries to push back on Shane’s fingers but he’s trapped by Shane’s arm holding his hips in place. “Oh yeah?” he says as he decides to relax into the feeling. “Why’s that?”

Shane presses a finger into Ryan and fucks him with it slowly. He leans down to whisper into Ryan’s ear. “We haven’t even had sex yet.”

Ryan spreads his legs to give Shane a better angle. “We haven’t?” he asks, his voice breathy. “Wasn’t it you that ate me out until I thought you were going to drown? I was really afraid that I was going to have to call Steven and be like: ‘sorry, bro. He died eating pussy.’”

Shane laughs at that. “Steven would die too, and then you would be down to one CEO.” He rubs Ryan’s clit slowly and Ryan groans softly. “You know what I mean though, asshole. Penetration. Some good ole P in V.”

Ryan huffs out a laugh. “You are such a fucking cis guy.” Despite himself, he presses into Shane’s touch. “Go for it, man. P in V.”

Shane picks up his efforts then, pressing a second finger in beside his first. He stretches Ryan out on them, listens to the subtle changes in breathing. “You’re fucking beautiful,” Shane says, and then, just to be a dick, he presses another in and starts fucking Ryan in earnest.

Ryan puts a hand on Shane’s arm and can feel the muscles contracting beneath the skin. “Shane,” he says, all breathy. “Shane, you gotta stop, man. I’m gonna come.”

Shane’s smile is kind of loopy when he replies, “yeah, that’s the point.” He crooks his fingers and leans down to whisper in Ryan’s ear. “I wanna watch it happen, baby. Wanna watch you get my fingers soaking wet. Wanna make sure you’re nice and sticky inside so I have somewhere nice to put my dick.”

That’s it for Ryan, he comes clinging onto Shane’s arms, rides it out with his hips pressed to Shane’s hand, sucks Shane’s fingers into him as far as they’ll go. When he’s done, Shane pulls his fingers out just barely, just enough for Ryan to see how sticky he is. “God, what a fucking mess,” Shane says.

Ryan gives him a challenging look. “Why don’t you clean it up?”

Shane, as always, takes the challenge. He ducks his head between Ryan’s legs. He laps up the come there, but refuses to touch Ryan’s clit, which just drives Ryan crazy. He sucks Ryan’s labia hard and Ryan very nearly passes out. “Oh my god,” he gripes, a hand in Shane’s hair. “Please, please fuck me.”

Shane gives one last suck to Ryan’s labia before pulling his head back. His face is fucking soaked and he might just be the most beautiful person Ryan’s ever seen. “Well,” Shane says, a hand on Ryan’s thigh, a little breathy. “Since you asked nicely and all.”

Shane hovers over Ryan with his hands on the floor, like some kind of poor intimation of a sex pushup. He uses one hand to push Ryan’s leg up so that it’s bent next to his chest, and uses this new angle to rub at Ryan’s opening with two of his fingers. Ryan whines at the feeling. “Stop being a tease,” he says, but he can’t quite catch his breath enough to sound angry.

Shane rolls his eyes but lines his cock up with Ryan’s entrance anyway. He pushes in slowly, and despite the fact that they’ve done this more times than Ryan could count to in this lifetime, it still takes his breath away every time. Once Shane is all the way in, pressing gentle kisses to Ryan’s face, Ryan feels so full that he might split in half.

“Shane,” Ryan says. He gets his hands on the nape of Shane’s neck. He’s sweating, which should be gross, but Ryan can’t find it in himself to care. He’s getting fucked in the middle of the woods, is probably gonna find grass in horrible places for weeks to come, and all he can think about is how he wants more .

Shane gives Ryan one shallow thrust that has Ryan crying out and canting his hips up. “You good?” Shane asks.

Ryan resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes, Shane, A+ dick game. Please fuck me .”

Shane huffs out a laugh but starts giving it to Ryan in earnest, thrusting hard and fast, filling Ryan up and leaving him empty and filling him up again in a pattern that has Ryan dizzy with it. All he can do is hold on, his fingernails probably leaving indents in Shane’s shoulders, and get lost in the feeling of getting fucked right.

Shane pants over him, right in his ear, which Ryan suspects should probably also be gross but is currently just hot as fuck. “God, you’re so beautiful,” Shane says, because even during sex, he can’t shut up. “So wet for me. So tight. Look at you. You’re fucking glowing, Ryan. You’re ethereal.”

Ryan isn’t sure if he wants more to come or to cry. Shane, however, makes the executive decision for him. He rubs the pad of his thumb over Ryan’s clit in nice circular motions and whispers, right in his ear, “you gonna come for me?”

Ryan nods quickly. “Yes, yes, Shane, man, come on,” he pants senselessly, his nails digging so hard into Shane’s shoulders that Shane actually cringes a little.

That doesn’t stop his attack on Ryan’s clit, though. “Come on,” he breathes into Ryan’s ear, presses a kiss against the skin of his neck. “Come for me, Ryan.”

Shane has some kind of sex superpower that makes Ryan helpless to do anything other than what Shane says. He comes around Shane’s cock like he’s possessed, white light gathered behind his eyes, pussy clenching hard around Shane’s cock, keeping him there, his hands fucking anywhere on Shane’s body that they can reach. Shane rubs him through it, only stops rubbing Ryan’s clit when Ryan pushes his hand away, just on the bad side of oversensitive.

“Fuck,” Shane says, his open-mouthed breathing against Ryan’s neck. He sounds absolutely destroyed and Ryan can relate. He presses a hand to the back of Shane’s head and just cradles him to his body. “Can I-” Shane mutters. His hips thrust forward on their own accord and Ryan gasps. “Can I come inside you, Ryan? Please, please, I have to-”

Ryan cuts him off with an enthusiastic nod. “Yes, please, Shane.”

With permission, Shane thrusts his hips forward fast and deep, like he can’t bear to have his cock any further out of Ryan than absolutely necessary. He must have been holding back for Ryan’s sake, because it only takes a handful of thrusts before Ryan feels his cock throb inside him. Shane gets himself as far in as possible and comes, filling Ryan up so much he can hardly stand it. Ryan doesn’t get to see his face, but he can feel the puffs of hot air against his body, hears the way Shane says “Ry, Ry,” over and over, and that’s a treat in itself.

Shane stays shuddering on top of Ryan for a second, shaking with the sheer force of holding himself up for that long and fucking someone into the grass. Ryan would be kind of proud of if there was any more room in his head for thoughts. As it is, he just holds Shane close, enjoys the feeling of Shane’s cock inside him, keeping his come trapped deep inside Ryan.

Once Shane gets his brain back online, he rolls off of Ryan and lands on the grass with a hard thud . Ryan can feel Shane’s come dripping out of him, which he always finds kind of gross, but makes Shane go blurry-eyed. Shane collects the come that’s dripped out and pushes it back into Ryan, to which Ryan whimpers from oversensitivity.

“Do you want me to clean you out?” Shane whispers into Ryan’s ear, his voice deep and rough, and Ryan’s clit gives a weak jump that honestly kind of hurts.

“My guy, are you trying to kill me?” Ryan asks. He pulls Shane to his chest and kisses the top of his head. He likes being able to do that, horizontally, pretty much the only time he and Shane can be the same height. “Time to nap.”

Shane huffs out a laugh against Ryan’s collarbone. “Is that all you frat boys care about?” he asks. “Beer and naps?”

“And sex,” Ryan adds, already well on his way to sleep. “You made me come, like, three times today, dude. My body is begging for a nap.”

Ryan’s eyes are closed, but he can almost hear Shane’s cocky smirk as he says, “yeah. I’m kind of a god, aren’t I?” Ryan slips into unconsciousness, vaguely aware of Shane pressing a kiss to Ryan’s neck and saying, “I love you, baby.”

Ryan wakes up to a dark forest, Shane nowhere to be found. Ryan’s mind immediately goes to bears again, but when he sits up, he finds Shane tending to a campfire, sweats hanging low against his hips, a t-shirt hanging haphazardly from his shoulders, his glasses sideways and his hair a fucking mess as he digs through the utter shit pile of things Shane packed for their trip.

“Shane,” Ryan says. Shane comically drops a backpack, and Ryan sends up a silent prayer to whatever deity is willing to listen to a bisexual trans man that his boyfriend hasn’t broken anything important. “What the fuck is happening?”

“You’re gonna kill me,” Shane says, which is never a good way to start a sentence. Ryan sits up and Shane tosses him a sweatshirt and some pants. Ryan pulls the pants on and stands to put on the sweatshirt when Shane says, “it’s possible that s’mores are the only form of substance I’ve brought.”

Ryan stops with one arm in his sweatshirt and glares at Shane. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish,” Shane says. Ryan pulls his sweatshirt on finally and sits on the ground near the campfire. Shane rips open bags of graham crackers, marshmallows and chocolate in quick succession and hands them off to Ryan. He has sticks too, somehow, which makes Ryan a little wary of the fact that Shane ‘forgot’ real food. Maybe his midwestern ass thought they could pillage or something.

“Come on,” Shane says, breaking Ryan out of his thoughts. He already has his marshmallow over the fire, and Ryan does the same. “I’m not telling Steven Lim you died naked in the woods from malnutrition.”

With his free hand, Ryan mimes picking up a phone. “Uhhh,” he starts in a pretty bad Shane impression. “So Ryan died.”

Shane mimes being on the other end of the phone and pitches his voice up in an equally bad impression of Steven. “Oh gosh!” he says, which makes Ryan giggle. “Did he at least die peacefully?”

“Nah,” Ryan answers. He gives an exaggerated sigh and adds, “he was naked and really fucking pissed at me.”

“Oh!” Shane fake laments. “I have to go eat some gold to feel better about this!” He sighs.

Ryan laughs again and pushes Shane’s shoulder. “Man, shut the fuck up.”

They put together their s’mores and eat in relative silence. Ryan can’t help stealing glances at Shane’s face as they eat. He looks gorgeous like this, lit up by the fire, chocolate running down his fingertips. Shane catches him staring when they finish eating and gives him a goofy smile. “What?”

“Nothing,” Ryan answers. “Just,” he shrugs. “Thank you for convincing me to do this. It really was fun.”

Shane’s smile gets bigger then, somehow. “You’re welcome.” He reaches over and touches his sticky fingers to Ryan’s. “I told you it would be better than Vegas.”

Ryan breaks into a comically big smile of his own. “Shut up, Shane.”

SUNDAY

Shane pulls up to Ryan’s house around midday and parks outside. “I’m glad you had a good time,” he says. He leans over and connects their lips in a gentle kiss. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

“See you,” Ryan says softly. He gets out and takes the stairs up to his apartment, where Roland is eating cold pizza in some kind of trance. Ryan guesses he probably hasn’t slept since Ryan left on Friday.

Ryan joins him for a slice of pizza, finally, some real food, and gets a few bites in before there’s a knock at his door. “You gonna get that?” he asks Roland. Roland just shrugs, pretty fucking out of it, so Ryan sighs and, with one last bite of his pizza, goes to answer the door.

“What?” he asks, and is surprised when Shane backs him into the room, pushes him against the wall and kisses him senseless.

“I was wrong,” Shane says when he pulls back for air. “I don’t want to see you Monday. I want to see you right now. And tomorrow and the day after and every second of every day.”

From the kitchen table, Roland says, “ew?”

Ryan doesn’t look away from Shane’s eyes. “Shut it, Roland.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE

this fic is a rewrite of a supernatural fic i wrote when i was 16. i wanted to do this cute camping idea some justice and i hope you enjoyed it! it’s a behemoth and also the longest thing i’ve written in two years. i guess i just really like camping.

disclaimer: this fic dealt with a trans character. i myself an nonbinary afab and i used the language i myself would feel comfortable using and i write from my own experiences.

please please consider a reblog if you liked this!! it really helps! i also post bfu/watcher stuff on the reg and aes stuff so if you like that consider a follow? maybe?

thank you so much for reading and for your support.

- is

#shyan #shyan fic #bfu fic #buzzfeed unclean #otp: we took an oath #otp: skeptic believer #mine #write

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tangent101 · 4 years

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Let’s talk about Rachel...

Just recently over at Twitter I was commenting on how adult-teenager ships in LiS (and let’s be honest, most similar ships) is creepy as fuck and then I started wondering. What was it that caused Rachel to start going out with older men? Well, in canon she was “desperate” to get out of Arcadia Bay. But just what was going on that drove that need to escape?

While I consider BtS to be creative fanfiction at best, for this initial bit I’m going to pretend parts of it could be canon. So let’s pretend that Rachel’s father was the DA for the area (and chose to live in Arcadia Bay, a town based on Garibaldi Oregon with a population of around 1,000). His ex cleans up her act, gets off of drugs, and tries to get visitation rights for Rachel. He then contracts out the local drug dealer and has her kidnapped and dosed with drugs to “prove” she’s unfit.

The mere rumor of impropriety has sunk the political careers of better men than James Amber. But if Chloe told the truth to Rachel and they tried to spread the truth of what happened to Rachel’s biological mom and he got reelected anyway then yeah. I could potentially see Rachel being disgusted by the entire region and wanting to get the fuck out of what will be future Trump County, willing to vote for the white “law and justice” candidate and ignore the truth.

But somehow this theory falls flat because first, Chloe never tells Max about it, and second, it doesn’t begin to explain why Rachel is into older men. If anything, BtS would have Rachel be more like Chloe - hating older men and not trusting them. Frank, with his old connections to Damon Merrick, would never be trusted - not even after he (unarmed, wounded, and in tremendous pain) was able to save Chloe from an armed and murderous Damon Merrick. Yeah, that honestly doesn’t work.

So now let’s examine just the original game. We have no idea who Rachel’s parents are or what they do. We do know that in the original timeline they gave up looking for Rachel and Chloe is the only one seeking her. We also know that in the William Lives timeline they are still actively seeking Rachel. This suggests that Rachel’s relationship with Chloe somehow soured Rachel’s relationship with her parents.

Rachel is bisexual. She’s the one canon bisexual character in the game (while I understand folk like to see Max as bi due to the shoehorned shoddy relationship she can try to start up with Warren, when you read her journal it’s clear that she actually sees Warren as a brother and is a Narnian lesbian and it snows that first day in Arcadia Bay because she brought snow back with her from the closet she was in) and was in confirmed relationships with Jeffershit and Frank Bowers. Her relationship with Chloe was strong enough that Chloe truly acts like a spurned lover when she learns Rachel was sleeping with Frank. There were also rumors that Rachel was promiscuous with the graffiti and various catty things said about her.

It can be argued that Frank and Jefferson both had one thing Rachel wanted: a means of leaving Arcadia Bay. Chloe had her truck, but while they could leave Arcadia Bay, they’d not get far without money or shelter. Frank had his RV and his drugs were a source of income. Jefferson had contacts in the modeling industry that Rachel desperately wanted. Hell, if it’s to be believed, she even hit on some older male trucker because his truck was a way out of Arcadia Bay. But honestly... this starts to fall short. What was driving Rachel to leave?

Let’s look at the difference between the Prime Timeline and the William Lives timeline once again. When Chloe is in Rachel’s life, her parents have given up looking for Rachel. Only Chloe still seeks her. But in the William Lives timeline, they are still actively looking for her. Chloe seems to be one of the keys here. When Chloe is part of Rachel’s life, her parents have washed their hands of her. When Chloe is not a part of her life? They are worried for her.

Rachel’s parents were homophobes.

Chloe was never one to hide who she is. But let’s be honest... Chloe is also not exactly the most perceptive of people either. There was a wadded up ball of a note in her hideout for six months that she never once opened? She was truly surprised that Frank and Rachel had shacked up? She never once heard the rumors about Rachel and Jeffershit? Chloe was in her own world and that world was Rachel. Her parents were superfluous. Frank was their dealer. Jeffershit was some hipster photographer whose photos Rachel loved. And all those guys that Rachel flirted with? That was nothing, just Rachel getting Chloe’s goat.

So I could easily see Rachel’s parents with a “Southern hospitality” mentality who smile at you and say things akin to “bless your heart” and are quietly saying “fuck you and die slowly in a fire” with those three words. Ironically enough, Chloe was raised by a Southerner who, if she’d ever seen Rachel’s parents interact with Chloe would need David to hold her back because how dare those distinguished individuals say such truly nasty things about her angel. (Only she and David are allowed to treat Chloe like shit.)

Rachel’s parents wrote their daughter off when they realized their daughter was one of them. A lesbian. And she doesn’t swear off from Chloe, promise never to talk to her again. So “she moved away” and Chloe sees them in denial when in fact her parents are politely telling Chloe to go away and never return because it’s Chloe’s fault their daughter is missing, not their own for driving their daughter away from them.

There was no Chloe in Rachel’s life in the William Lives timeline. Her parents are leading the search much like Chloe did. Because their daughter never shamed them by being gay.

When I originally was crafting this examination into Rachel, I must admit my mind was going somewhere... well, it’s not darker per say. Because being in a homophobic environment is pretty damn dark. But I had speculated initially that Rachel was into “older men” because she was being molested. This could still be the case, but it doesn’t quite feel right. Rachel was into Frank and Jeffershit as a means to escape an abusive household. The abuse was not physical, but was emotional and psychological.

But having lived in a homophobic and transphobic household... you want to escape that. It slowly shreds your soul. Having parents that look at you as an insult, who consider your true self to be something that’s ruined their lives? You want to escape that. It colors your actions and views. More, it damages your relationships. Because I wonder if one reason Rachel cheated on Chloe was because of her parents’ reaction to her?

Did Rachel internalize that biphobia and hate? If her parents had been more accepting and loved their daughter and didn’t try to control their daughter’s life, then Rachel may have ended up remaining true to Chloe. More, we might have seen Rachel then as a more positive element in Chloe’s life. Chloe might have ended up trying in school because Rachel encouraged her to. Max may have gone to Arcadia Bay in 2013 to find Chloe was gone... off to college with Rachel Amber. The Amberprice relationship may have ended up healthy because Rachel was in a good place in her life.

It’s a shame that Deck Nine didn’t look at this. They went with a half-assed fanfic with drug dealers and ignoring the fact Joyce started flirting with David six weeks after the death of William and married him before Chloe’s 16th birthday, barely a year after William’s death. They failed to show how the hateful actions of parents can push a child away from them, and lead them down a tragic path. They forgot that conflict is not physical but can instead be psychological and emotional.

Because let’s face it. Many of us can identify with children whose parents don’t approve of them or have disowned them for being Other. Whether that’s queer, artistic, or just “not how we raised you.” Many of us have parents who treat us with disdain for being who we are, instead of some doll they can mold to be what they want to be. If that is the face of Rachel Amber? Then we all can see a glimpse of her when we stare into the mirror.

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thinking-in-symbols · 3 years

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Quinquennial Life Assessment

So, it’s been a few years. When I was 19 I posted a sort of “roadmap” for the evolution of my life on this blog. Today I thought I’d revisit that. I want to take a look back and see what progress I’ve made, and then in a separate post I want to turn to the future, think about how my vision for it has changed, and consider how I can reincorporate these goals into that vision.

This is the list of things I wanted to get done in varying time frames. I’ve crossed off the things I’ve done to get a sense of my progress:

1 year:

At 19, my hopes were to accomplish the following things by age 20:

- Joined, and consistently participated in, at least 2 campus organizations that suit my interests, at least 1 of which should be competitive in nature - well, I joined the ISO and KVRX, my college radio station! Neither of those were competitive, but in retrospect I don’t really care about that :-)

- Made concrete plans to study abroad - Nope, unfortunately I never did this. I’m not quite sure I regret that, all things considered - I traded that experience for other things. I did make plans to spend a few months abroad of my own accord, and I would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for that meddling global pandemic. But as it stands I haven’t done this.

- Learned C++ and python to proficiency - Hm. “Proficient” is a relative term. But I think I have a tendency to downplay my skills, so in the interest of counteracting that I’m going to count myself as “proficient” in these languages. I think that’s fair.

- Gone on at least a several day road trip with at least 1 friend - I’ve gone on several trips with @meeshbug, my very lovely girlfriend and best friend in the world :-)

- Decided on a concentration beyond the extremely vague umbrella of “computer science” - Unfortunately as far as my education is concerned I never really did this. If anything my interests have *broadened* rather than becoming more focused. More on this later...

- Made meaningful, ongoing contributions to an open-source project - You know what? I’ve published the source of everything I’ve ever made, and I’ve gotten to the point where I can make stuff that’s not trivial. So I’m giving myself credit for this one.

- Learned to cook enough meals to eat in most days and not get sick of my own food - I wish. I’ve learned to cook a fair amount of stuff but I still get way too depressed and lethargic to apply that consistently. Whether I consider myself to have achieved this honestly depends on the month.

- Learned to keep my living area clean - I’m much better at this than I was at 19, but at 19 I could barely clear a path to walk across my room. So there’s more work to do. More on these last two later.

- Gotten a pet - Meesh and I have a dog named Courage (after the dog of cowardly fame) and a cat named Jax!

2 years:

- Independently written a piece of software to completion and deployed it publicly - I’ve always pretty bad at actually seeing projects through to completion, but I do have a few full, independent projects under my belt at this point. I’ve built a simple game engine, a pathtracer, plugins for games I like, and some other stuff.

- purchased and begun regularly using some basic amateur radio equipment - Ah man. I got my license but I still haven’t gotten any equipment. I guess I have to get on that...

- purchased and begun experimenting with some basic music recording equipment - This one I’ve done, but I haven’t done as much experimenting as I’d like.

- hosted a party - I did this for my 21st birthday and it’s one of my favorite memories! Honestly this was probably the last time I had all my really close friends in one place. I’m actually getting kind of emotional about that.

- done some kind of hallucinogen - I have now done this. I definitely did get something out of it, albeit not what I expected. This is something I actually only did pretty recently and it’s still having a pretty profound effect. Maybe I’ll write a separate post about this.

- Gone camping with friends - Despite my best efforts, this hasn’t happened yet. Pretty fucked up.

3 years:

- learned to play another instrument besides the piano (guitar?) - I don’t feel comfortable crossing this one off quite yet, but I went ahead and bought myself some guitar equipment and have been messing around with it lately :-) I think I’m going to have to bite the bullet and pay for lessons if I’m serious about this, which I am.

- Written and recorded a song - Damn, I can’t believe it’s been 5 years and I haven’t even done this.

- Met a group of people I can play music with - nope

- Owned a leather jacket. I can’t believe I’ve still never even owned a leather jacket - I’ve done this and wore it frankly too much. Kinda cringe.

- Worked as a professional software developer - Yep! Worked as a software developer for a retail company for a couple years. I’m actually not working as a software developer right now, though; I’m working in a sort of adjacent position. More on this later.

- Participated in research related to my field - That’s pretty ambitious. Not sure I’ll ever do this, unfortunately. But we’ll see.

- Been to a film festival - Oh shit, I totally forgot about having written this. That’s a cool idea. I should do this, it’s not like it’s hard (well, at least in principle. I guess covid kind of changes the situation).

- Gotten a dog - Courage is one of those, I think, although he might also be part rat.

- collected 50 records - Lol, my dumb ass really thought I was going to buy $1,000 worth of records on college money. No, I haven’t done this, but I’m on my way there.

- Purchased a desktop computer - Well, my dad gave me his old desktop. That’s not really a purchase but I think it counts.

5 years:

- Begun accepting freelance development gigs - haven’t gotten here yet and I’m not totally sure this is a direction I want to go in my career. Freelancing has its own stressors as I’ve come to learn from others. No career path is sunshine and roses and I’m trying to internalize this fact.

- Participated in a student film - Nope. I don’t even know why I wrote this down to be honest.

- Gotten laid by solving a 5x5 Rubik’s Cube in front of a girl because surely that’s gonna have to work on someone eventually, otherwise I wasted a lot of time - These are getting weird. Surely I didn’t really expect this to happen, right? Well, either way I now have a long-term girlfriend, so I don’t - wait, Meesh has seen me solve a Rubik’s cube and she saw it before we started dating. So actually I’m going to give myself credit for it. I’m the one who makes the rules here.

- Fleshed out my political opinions - Yes, I now know everything about politics and can answer 100% of questions on political issues. Just kidding. But I know where I stand.

- Participated in a protest or some other kind of political event - Done! Went to a few protests as part of the ISO, participated in lots of their events, and attended some protests with friends as well.

- Studied abroad - Nope :-/

- Learned a language other than Spanish - I took a semester of French! But I don’t quite want to give myself credit for this one because I really would like to learn a different language to something resembling fluency.

- Run a marathon - Lmao. I am in much worse shape now than I was when I wrote this post, and even at that time I could probably do like 7 miles if I really pushed myself. How sad.

- Gone hiking outside of texas - This is weird because I’d literally already done this when I wrote this post. But I’ve done it more since then, so hey!

- Been out of the country with a friend - This I had also already done. I guess the point is to have done it without “adult supervision” or whatever. I haven’t done this since writing this list so I guess I have to leave it uncrossed.

10 years:

- Lived with a girl for an extended period of time - Meesh 🥰

- Spent at least 6 months living on the road in an RV, preferably with a dog and a girl - God, I am so close to being able to do this. I don’t want it to be an RV anymore - those things are expensive. But a van? Still pricey, but doable, especially if I’m willing to sacrifice some comfort. This has actually been front-of-mind for a while. I’ll let you know when I get the balls to pull the trigger.

- Started making Real Money - Well, yep, I have gotten to that point. I do have other thoughts on this, though. Money is weird, man.

- Lived in a long-term living space outside of Texas (i.e. not including RV time) - How long is long-term? Three months? If so, I’ve done this by living in Boston with Meesh for a few months after she went there for law school. However, I anticipate staying there much longer in the near future, so I’ll wait on this crossing this one off.

- Written a book about something, idk - Not yet. I’m halfway to the deadline on this one and I have some ideas, but ideas aren’t worth all that much, especially to me, who rarely sees them through. We’ll see where this goes. It’s not exactly a priority and historically I struggle to get even my priorities done. It might make more sense to replace this with recording a concept or narrative album, for which I also have ideas that I happen to take more seriously.

- Learned to solve a 6x6 Rubik’s Cube - nope

- Gotten laid by solving a 6x6 Rubik’s Cube - nope

- Lived in an apartment where I pay all the rent - Yes! :-))) We love independence

- Earned an advanced degree (this one’s iffy) - This hasn’t happened, and whether it will ever happen is something I’ve been thinking a lot about. I sort of decided half-way through college that I would be totally burned out on school by the time I graduated. But in retrospect it takes way less time to burn out on work than it does to burn out on school, and grad degrees are a different kind of thing. So it’s worth revisiting.’

- Given a best man speech (Sam, this means you have to get married within the next 10 years. Good luck out there.) - Holy shit, Sam, you maniac, you actually did it! Sam got married back in 2019 and I gave his best man speech! It’s another one of my favorite memories :-)

- Gone on a cruise with someone I’m dating - Hmm, not yet. I’ve gone on cool trips, but none on a boat. Maybe that’s something to aim for after the pandemic passes :-)

Retrospective:

1yr: Completed: 5/9

More than half isn’t bad! I’m not gonna worry too much about whether I got these things done within their assigned “time-frame”. I’m a procrastinator in my heart and I don’t see any reason to put that kind of pressure on myself. The point is, they got done. That’s enough for me.

The things I did best in in this category were academic things, and things to do with relationships. I’m proud of the academic achievements, I really feel like doing them has increased my belief in myself and my sense that I’m good at the thing I’ve spent the last four years studying. And of course, I am so happy to be in a loving, fulfilling relationship that brings so many good things into my life. I almost feel like the things I accomplished sort of fell into my lap - of course I’m gonna do programming stuff as a programming student, and getting pets / going on road trips are things I did as a result of my relationship with Meesh. I don’t say that to downplay the accomplishments, but I do think it’s worth noting.

The things I haven’t done are more to do with personal development, which is disappointing. I would like to be able to say, 5 years down the road, that I’ve done the personal development I expected to do in just a single year, but maybe that’s a lot to expect. These are problems I’ve dealt with my whole life. I think what this means is that I can’t expect everything to fall into my lap. Those things are going to take real concerted effort to change. I’m not quite sure how to go about that, though.

2yrs: Completed: 4/6

Two-thirds! Even better!

Lots of these are one-time accomplishments, not so much long-term commitments to personal development. The good news is, I did them, and I think those resulted in some development in their own right :-)

Again, though, the things I didn’t do so well are the things that require long-term, concerted effort. For instance, while I crossed off the one about experimenting with music, it’s really only the initial investment that I’ve really done at this point. It remains to be seen whether I’ll be able to follow through on the commitment to actually experiment and learn.

3yrs: Completed: 4/10

This category also follows the same pattern I’ve noticed with the last two. The other thing I’m noticing is that so, so much of my effort over the past few years has been going towards developing a very particular skill: programming / computer science. Music and art are so important to me, but I’ve done very little real development in those areas. I mean, I’ve done some. But not as much as I would have hoped for half a decade.

5yrs: Completed: 4/10

This is getting a little more fun because less of my goals have to do explicitly with my degree. I’m starting to think beyond college, which is good, because the stage of life I’m in right now requires me to start thinking about the kind of life I want to build now that I’m done with school. Also, I’m at the deadline for this one right now! So this is a particularly interesting category because it really shows where I thought I’d be by this time.

The goals I accomplished in this timeframe are, again, mostly things I’ve done through my relationship, but politics also feature pretty prominently on this part of the list. I spent a lot of time reading and researching political issues during college and really did look for ways to participate. I honestly made politics a pretty big part of my identity over the last 5 years, and I think it will stay that way forever, but I’ve gotten to the point where I think I need to devote less of my mental energy to knowing more. I know what I need to know. It’s time to think about other things.

10yrs: Completed: 4/11 (and counting!)

There’s some career stuff in this section that I’ve been able to do, which is good news. I’ve always been scared about entering the working world. All things told, it’s gone more smoothly than it could have. But I also have lots of lingering doubts about what I want to do in the long term. So one of the most pressing goals I should aim for is to resolve those doubts.

Ultimately, I have a lot of time left, and I’m not even done with this time frame, so I’m not gonna spend much time dissecting the things I haven’t done. What I’ll do instead is say that while I didn’t do everything on this list, I feel proud of the things I have accomplished. I said when I first wrote this list that it’s sometimes hard for me to feel that my life is moving in any particular direction, and I’m still feeling like that five years later, to be honest. But looking back on these things has helped me see that I actually am making progress in my life. Not in all the ways I want to, but that’s OK. There’s still time.

In the next couple days I want to come back to this and reorganize this list into an updated set of goals, for the same time frames. Maybe that will help me think through exactly what it is I want out of the next five-ten years, with the benefit of having analyzed the things that I did and didn’t do well over the previous five.

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