#lori tries to stay organized | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bobbyseyesmile · 1 year

Text

Attitude | Part 2

Summary: You learned your lesson to never run your mouth again. Or so Shane thought.

A/N: This is literally pure filth ok? And I love it. Also anal sex isn't as easy as it's portrayed in smut, pls don't forget that. This is purely fictional. Never ever have anal sex without proper preparation. also the lovely @angel-litter inspired me to write a third part so yeah, there’s more Shane coming ya way!

Characters: Dark!ShaneWalsh x Reader

Word count: 4k (sorry not sorry)

WARNINGS: age gap (reader is 18+) / explicit sexual content as in anal, oral (F receiving), swearing Trigger warning: dub-con | 18+ 🔞 MINORS DNI below the cut! 🔞

➻ Part 1 [M] Part 3 [M]

Weeks had passed and Shane couldn’t have been happier: Rick finally agreed to clean the barn from the walkers, everyone learned how to handle their guns properly and some of them, like Andrea, were actually pretty good shooters. It was good to have trained people around in case of an emergency.

And, of course, there where you; currently the most well-behaved angel there could have been. After the lesson Shane taught you a few weeks ago you barely looked in his direction, did everything when someone asked you to do it and remained quiet. Not one snarly remark or side-glance. So yeah, life’s been pretty good lately, or as good as it could be in this shitshow of world they lived in.

“Y/N?” your mother called and you turned around to see her standing at the porch of the white farmhouse. She just found out that she was pregnant and now her and your dad slept inside the house instead of the tent. You stayed back, happy to have some privacy for yourself as your mother got on your nerves more than ever. You were sure it was Shane’s child, everyone probably knew, even Rick.

Lori waved her hand to get your attention and you yelled a quick “Be right there” before she disappeared inside the house again. When she was out of your sight you let out an annoyed groan and rolled your eyes but as soon as you turned your head you saw Shane leaning against the RV, his arms crossed in front of his broad chest and he cocked an eyebrow when he noticed your disrespectful behavior. You gulped and quickly finished your chore before sprinting towards the house.

You did a good job avoiding him, too afraid he would keep his promise of teaching you another lesson. Even though you never experienced Shane like that before and the whole incidence was disturbing, to say the least, there was something that had changed; the way you looked at him from now on. Was he always that well-built? Did the veins on his arms and hands always pop out as soon as they were physically strained? And whenever he spoke, didn’t matter the words, you felt a slight tingle in your stomach area.

Disgusted with yourself you shook your head to organize your thoughts before facing your mom in the kitchen. “Yes, mom?” you asked and she turned around. “Baby, could you please gather everyone for dinner? Your father and Glenn are still on their supply run but I figured you could go with Shane to look for them, it’s getting dark.”

You stepped from one foot to another and rubbed the back of your head. “Why can’t Daryl go?” Lori noticed the reluctance in your voice but she just figured you were in a bad mood, typical for a young person.

“Because-“ she continued to chop the vegetables “Daryl’s still recovering from his wound and shouldn’t strain himself for another few days.”

Oh yeah, you forgot… He fell from a horse and put an arrow through his shoulder. A snort escaped you as you remembered when he told you what happened, you felt bad for him, you really did, it was still kinda funny to imagining the Daryl Dixon falling off a horse.

“Okay but I don’t think Shane’s going to like the idea of another two people going out after dark…” you tried once again and saw as she stopped in her motion. “It’s your father, Y/N.”

She couldn’t see it so you rolled your eyes once again. Sure, the man you cheated on and got pregnant by his best friend. Mother and wife of the year…

“Fine-“ you sighed “I’ll ask Shane.”

The mere thought of being alone with him again made your stomach turn. He acted like nothing ever happened except giving you here and there a warning glance before returning to his old self. Asshole…

“Shane?” you said when you walked towards the open RV and heard a grunt from within. You stopped in front of the open door not wanting to be alone with him in such small space once again. “You in there?”

“Yeah.” Seconds later he appeared in front of you, his blue shirt unbuttoned and you quickly licked your lips when you stared at his exposed abs. “What is it?” he asked impatiently when he noticed your stare. Your eyes fluttered shut before looking up to meet his. “Uhm… Lori wants us to go look for dad and Glenn.”

“Thought I told ya not to call her Lori, didn’t I? She’s your mother.” You withheld the urge to roll your eyes at him and gulped to suppress the anger pooling in your stomach. You’re not my fucking father and I also fucking hate you, you thought to yourself but none of those words went over your lips. You just nodded and asked a small “So?” instead.

“Yeah, lets go.” He sighed before grabbing his gun and walking towards the car. ”Got ya gun?” you replied with a bored “Hmmm” but flinched when Shane suddenly stopped to face you.

“Use your damn words, girl. What are ya, five?” he grunted and grabbed the gun from behind your pants. “And I fricking told ya to put it in the holster, not your goddamn pants, you know what could happen if it goes off?”

“As if you cared…” you mumbled but bit your lips when you saw his annoyed expression. “Shut it, I don’t have time for your hormonal whining, this is grown up business. If ya can’t handle it then go back inside and chop some veggies with the others and I’ll go alone.”

Shane studied your face and saw the tears forming in your eyes but he simply couldn’t care, this was life and death and not prom and Friday-pizza-nights or whatever shit ran through your mind. He need to keep you safe and alive; he didn’t matter if you hated him for it. “I got it.” You answered through clenched teeth and he stared another five second at your before finally giving the gun back and getting into the car. You took a deep breath and tried to remain as calm as possible but the truth was, your blood was boiling.

You drove only for about ten minutes before you ran into your father and Glenn as they were on their way home. Rick gave Shane a small nod and Shane turned the car to drive back to the farm. You let out a small sigh and were glad when Shane didn’t notice it but your eyes kept staring at his fingers around the steering wheel; the same fingers which painfully grabbed your hair and kept your head in place as he fucked your face.

Shane noticed your glance and turned his head to meet your eyes; you didn’t look away but continued to stare at him like a doe that got caught in spotlight. He couldn’t make sense of your behavior towards him; some days you seemed almost scared and avoided him completely (just as he thought you would react after what he did) and other days you practically couldn’t get enough of him, always staring or biting your lip whenever he caught you. Only thing missing was the drool coming from your mouth.

“Want a picture? It last’s longer, princess.” He snorted and as soon as you saw the smirk around his lips you quickly looked away. “Shut up-“ you mumbled embarrassed and tried to hide your reddened cheek from his sight.

“Aw come on, ‘was just joking, don’t be like that.” He laughed and tried to poke your side. “Stop!” you squeaked and swatted his hand away which made him chuckle even more.

“You’re actually pretty cute when you’re not a bitch, ya know.” Your head snapped towards him and he grinned when he saw your angered expression. “You have no idea what I’m like when I decide to be a bitch.” You spat and made him snort in return.

“Actually, I caught a glimpse of her a few weeks back but strangely she’d never appeared again. Hm, don’t know why.” You felt the heat in your face and ears as he nonchalantly hinted on the incident in the RV and held back from striking the back of his head, he probably would have killed you right then and there. Shane notice the way you clenched your fist in a pathetic attempt to hide your anger.

“I think you should stop or else I’m going to tell my dad.” You said calmly before quickly exiting the car as soon as he stopped at the farm. Shane watched as you slammed the door shut and took fast and long strides towards the house, probably too afraid of his reaction. Coward, he thought and got out of the car as well.

“What happened?” Rick asked and turned to look after his daughter who seemed aggravated.

“Ah, you know. Probably that time of the month.” Shane answered calmly and his best friend nodded in return. “I heard that women adjust their cycles if they live together long enough.” Glenn mumbled and earned himself some looks from the older men. “What?”

“Ya know, boy-“ Shane spoke and put an arm around the younger one “You’re so lucky that you’re one of the last fellows around and Maggie likes you.” Glenn raised his eyebrows and Rick laughed in return as the walked towards the house to finally eat dinner.

Everyone sat around the huge table and chattered to their hearts content except you who only picked in the food on your plate. Shane sat across from you and gave your knee a soft kick under the table. You looked up and he mouthed a silent “Stop that” signaling you to behave and to eat your food like a normal person.

“Bite me.” You whispered back but it was loud enough for your mother to hear. “Y/N! I don’t want you to talk to anyone like that. Apologize.”

“I’m not a kid anymore, mom. I apologize if I want to.” You answered and an uneasy silence spread in the room. “Y/N…” Rick spoke softly and your expression turned soft. “But dad, it’s true. I’m so sick and tired of her treating me like a child!”

“Yes, I know, honey but-“ your fathers soft spoken words were cut off by Shane’s harsh ones: “Then maybe act like your age instead of a bratty and whiny little kid.”

You turned around and gave him an infuriated look. “Excuse me but this is family business and you are not family, okay? Just because you fucked and impregnated my mother doesn’t make you family so back off!” The last words came out louder than you intended to but it felt so good to finally acknowledge the elephant in the room. You saw the hurt in your fathers eyes but it was time for him to learn that literally everybody knew. “Don’t gimme that look, dad. Everyone knows. We all knew way before you came back to us… I caught them in the woods a few times.”

“That’s enough, Y/N!” Lori suddenly yelled and you cocked an eyebrow. “That’s something we can agree on, mom.” You spat back before slamming the fork on the table and walking out the door, towards your tent.

You set up your camp inside the barn, it would be your retreat for the night, also it had a good outlook in case of some unwelcome guests. You were a pretty good sniper and were sure you could handle some walkers wandering around in the open field if they decided to come to close to the farm. Neither one of your parents tried talking to you after what happened at the dinner table and you were glad to be alone; all the rage still inside your guts.

You nestled inside the hay and closed your eyes after checking your surroundings one last time soon afterwards falling into a deep slumbers. Your precious sleep was disturbed as soon as you heard rustling noises outside the barn and the hand that grabbed the gun was immediately in position to put a bullet between two walker eyes if necessary. “Daryl?” you whispered because you remembered that he sometimes wandered around to check the areal but there was no answer. “Hello?” you asked once again and looked outside but everything was quiet. Maybe it was just the wind or some animal you thought and as soon as you turned around a giant hand grabbed you from behind, firmly pressed against your mouth to silence the scream inside your throat. You frantically tried to free yourself and remembered the gun in your hand but it was quickly taken from you.

“Sh-“ you suddenly heard and relaxed a little bit as you recognized Shane’s voice. The relaxation wasn’t long-lasting when you stared into dark pupils, his lips slightly agape and his right hand still grabbed the back of your head as his other hand kept your mouth shut. Shane saw the shift in your eyes; first there was the relief to recognize a familiar face but when your brain finally processed it, he could see the sheer fear in your eyes and honestly? He lived for it.

“Just came to talk-“ he mumbled softly. Too softly. You gulped and blinked a few times, trying to come up with a plan; a way out of here but Shane knew exactly what you were thinking about and smirked. “Oh, princess, don’t be afraid-“ he spoke with false concern, his voice still as soft and smooth as butter but the grip of his fingers told you otherwise. Shane slightly moved his hand over you mouth when you started mumbling. “Hm, what was that?”

“I-I’m going to scream, Shane, if you’re-“ your words were cut off by his huge hand, once again firmly pressed over your mouth. There was a glimmer in his eyes and it made your stomach turn as he bend down, his lips softly hovering over your ear as he said:

“Oh, I know you will.”

Shane turned you around so your back was against his stone hard chest; while the hand over your mouth never left its spot his other arm wrapped around your frame like a boa constrictor pulling you harshly against him. A small whimper escaped your throat and Shane stopped in his tracks. “Was that a fucking moan I heard?” You reluctantly shook your head but he knew better, your body reacting almost on its own as it melted against his own. “Look at you, pressing your little ass against my dick, you fucking want this, huh? Where you a little bitch because you wanted me to fuck you?”

This time you didn’t shook your head nor nodded; truth was, you were confused on what you wanted. Your feelings for Shane were mostly pure hate but his body was to die for.

“Fucking answer me-“ he growled next to your ear and you immediately shook your head; no, you didn’t do it on purpose, he was the one that went too far meddling in your family business. You just told him, simply as that. “Bet you thought I wouldn’t repeat what I did to you before, bet you thought you were safe…” you felt his lips against your neck and closed your eyes. “But I also bet you liked sucking my dick. Tell me, how many nights were you lying awake playing with yourself wishing it was me?”

You remained quiet as you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction that he was absolutely right. Shane removed the hand over your mouth but grabbed your hips instead. You slightly turned your head to look towards the big barn door, trying to calculate if you could be fast enough to run but he just chuckled. “Come on, try running. I’m just going to fuck you in the grass so everyone in their tents can hear you.”

That was something you definitely didn’t want, inside the barn there was at least some privacy. Your thoughts were interrupted as you felt Shane’s hand reaching inside your jeans, slipping inside your panties and your breath hitched. Maybe this wasn’t so bad, you were hot for him after all and something told you that Shane wanted you as well, not only to teach you a lesson but because he had it as bad for you as you had it for him.

Shane felt your body relax as his fingers dipped into your already wet folds, giving your clit a lazy swirl making you moan in the process. “Shit, you’re such a little whore for me.” Your head nodded on its own as you rocked your hips against his fingers, relishing in the fact that Shane actually touched you.

Your breath was suddenly squeezed from your lungs as he harshly pushed you onto a nearby table, bending you over. “Shane-“ you gasped and heard him hum in return. Shane quickly pulled your jeans and panties down and stared at your small ass; it was pure perfection to his eyes. Art. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt the rough skin of his fingertips on your sensitive skin, softly caressing and kneading the flesh in is hands. “So perfect.” He leaned over you and gave you a small kiss in your cheek making your heart melt in return; it wasn’t only hate you felt for the older man, the butterflies in your stomach made that pretty obvious.

The first slap on your ass took you completely by surprise and you let out a small shriek. There was a short pause before his hand curled around your neck, pushing your face deeper into the surface while he gave one harsh slap after another. You tried to scream but could barely breath, your fingers clawing into the wood beneath you desperately trying to hold onto something for support. Tears formed in your eyes and ran over your heated cheeks as Shane continued to abuse your already sore behind; one slap harder than the other till you were a sobbing mess underneath him.

“Shane, please-“ you managed to breath out but he didn’t care.

“Fucking told you what happens if you run that mouth again, told ya I would come for that sweet ass of yours.” He chuckled and finally stopped the abuse of your behind. He softly caressed the reddened and swollen skin, helping you relax a little bit. Your eyes were shut with tears still escaping as you silently cried. You were sure he would continue any moment but instead Shane kneeled down, spreading your cheeks and buried his face against your dripping cunt.

You gasped once again as you felt his tongue down there, turning you into a writhing mess. Shane licked, sucked and tongue-fucked your sex as he continued to merciless eat you out. “Fuck, Shane…” you moaned and felt him hum, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. It was almost too much; your ass that hurt like hell, his stubbly chin against your sex but his tongue that felt like heaven giving you a bittersweet experience you never felt before.

Shane could tell you were close as your hips began to quiver and your moans became more intense. His lips found your clit and gave it a strong suck as you came all over his face. He continued to eat you out even when you tried to get away from him but his fingers dug into your hips holding you into place.

You let out a relieved sigh when he finally let go. You couldn’t see it but Shane’s face was covered in your juices, making him lick his lips. “You taste so good, princess, almost came into my pants.” You tried to get up but Shane pushed you down, his hand resting on your back. “Oh, baby… we’re not done.”

“Shane?” you asked as you heard rustling noises as if he undressed himself all while holding you into place against the wooden table. Was he still going to fuck you? Was this really the night you’d lose your virginity?

You felt as he pulled his rock-hard member out of its fabric prison before poking it against your entrance but he didn’t enter yet, not before sliding it a few times through your throbbing pussy to gather enough slick. “Shane-“ you whined once again and heard him grunt in return. “Please-“

Just as your body started to relax his cock was suddenly gone from your throbbing entrance and positioned at your asshole. Your eyes widened in shock as realization hit you; he would fuck your ass. “Shane, what are you doing?!” You asked panicked and felt the weight of his body on your own. “Teaching you another lesson. But this time you’ll remember for sure…”

You wanted to protest, to push him away as you were definitely not ready to take it there.

“Shane, wait, I never-“ His member slowly pushed into the tight ring of muscle as he covered your moth once again, this time to mask your screams for sure. His fingers found your clit as he drew circles over the still sensitive nub from your previous orgasm. “Fucking shit, so tight-“ he growled and your nails dug into the wood once again, this time you were sure it made you bleed. It took a few soft thrusts before the pain turned tolerable. Shane pulled slightly back before delivering a harsh thrust that knocked the air out of your lungs.

His cock entered you with such a force it literally threw your forward and your feet lost contact with the floor. You tried to grab something but your body just didn’t obey, your brain in a foggy haze as he kept fucking in you from behind.

“Shit; how can it be so fucking tight?” he groaned and his fingers dug into the soft skin at your hips. It would leave marks; you were sure but couldn’t care less for now. With every harsh thrust his balls slapped against your throbbing clit making you close your eyes in pure bliss. You weren’t even sure how it was possible for him to be this deep inside you; his length made it seem impossible but your body proved you wrong as your hungry hole swallowed him; the grip around his dick so intense Shane felt his own release approaching.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your mouth hung open for a silent cry, drool dripping down your chin and neck and for Shane it was the most beautiful sight; there you were, a drooling, moaning and writhing mess as he fucked your tight virgin hole. Your orgasm washed over you in intense waves; blood rushing in your ears as you came all over his dick. “Fuck!” Shane closed his eyes as well before his grip on your waist increased, threatening to break you in half as he fucked you through both of your highs. He gave one final thrust before he came hot and heavy, painting your insides white.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like this; heavy panting as Shane’s fingers still dug into your skin, his cock turning slowly soft. Shane pulled out and licked his lips as he saw his own cum dripping out of your ass and down your legs. Your legs felt like Jello and if it wasn’t for Shane, you surely would have collapsed. Shane bend down to give you an intense kiss, his teeth colliding with your own as his tongue dominated your mouth. You let it happen while your hands rested against his chest.

As he pulled away you let out a small whine and he smirked. “Hope ya learned your lesson.”

“Well…” you cleared your throat, voice all raspy. “Just because I made you cum doesn’t mean it wasn’t a lesson, ya know.” He spoke firmly but there was a hint of a smirk around his lips.

“Besides… you won’t be sitting for at least a week.”

You’ll only find my work posted here and and on my AO3 blog. I don’t give consent for my work to be re-posted (in any language) onto any other platform, even if it is with credit. Thank you.

343 notes · View notes

the-name-is-z · 4 months

Text

SKELETONS | ch. 20

daryl dixon x f!oc

masterlist

a03 link

Summary: After escaping the farm, the group panics about where to go, what to do. Rick declares himself their leader and leads them onward in hopes of a safe place and better life. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; discussion of walkers, discussions of political views, surviving out in the woods, discussion of murder/murder conspiracy, killing huge amounts of walkers, near miss with a gun

Chapter 20 - East

It was a few hours down the road before Rick honked the horn and Daryl, now at the head of their frighteningly smaller caravan, pulled to a stop. Everyone got out of the cars and Rick jogged up ahead.

“You out?” Daryl asked, holding the bike steady.

“Running on fumes.” Rick replied.

“We can’t stay here.” Maggie stated.

“We can’t all fit in one car.” Glenn replied.

“We’ll have to make a run for some gas in the morning.” Rick replied, surveying their surroundings.

“Spend the night here?” Carol asked.

“I’m freezing.” Carl shuddered, only in a hoodie. Rick started to take off his jacket, handing it to his son.

“We’ll build a fire, yeah?” Lori asked, rubbing Carl’s arms.

“You go out looking for firewood, stay close.” Daryl instructed. “Only got so many arrows. How you doing on ammo?”

“Not enough.” Rick grumbled.

“We can’t just sit here with our assess hanging out.” Maggie complained, huffing.

“Watch your mouth.” Hershel warned. “Everyone stop panicking and listen to Rick.”

“Alright, we’ll set up a perimeter. In the morning, we’ll find gas and some supplies. We’ll keep pushing on.” Rick decided.

“Glenn and I can go make a run now, try and scrounge up some gas.” Maggie offered.

“No, we stay together.” Rick declined. “God forbid something happens and people get stranded without a car.”

“Rick, we’re stranded now.” Glenn protested.

“I know it looks bad, we’ve all been through hell and worse, but at least we found each other. I wasn’t sure— I really wasn’t— but we did. We’re together. We keep it that way. We’ll find shelter somewhere. There’s gotta be a place.”

“Rick, look around. There’s walkers everywhere. They’re migrating or something.” Glenn murmured.

“There’s gotta be a place, not where we can just hole up, but that we fortify, hunker down, pull ourselves together. Build a life for each other. I know it’s out there, we just have to find it.” Rick said, pacing. They were almost like the words of an inspirational speech, except he was speaking as if the words were the one thing keeping him from happiness.

“Even if we do find a place, we think it’s safe, we can never be sure. For how long?” Maggie asked. “Look what happened with the farm. We fooled ourselves into thinking that that was safe.”

“We won’t make that mistake again.” Hershel said lowly.

“Can we think a little more short-term, please?” Iris asked, looting through her backpack. She pulled out a sweater, handing it to Carol, who was shivering in just a cardigan.

“Thank you.” She breathed, pulling it on.

“Let’s organize some now plans.” Iris suggested, trying to reign in the panic that Rick was evidently facing. Rick nodded, rubbing a hand over his face.

“We’ll make camp tonight, over there, get on the road at the break of day.” He decided, gesturing to the stone ruins of an old water mill. The only parts that remained were a few walls.

“Does this feel right to you?” Carol asked Iris. She paused, pursing her lips.

“What if walkers come through? Or another group like Randall's?” Beth asked.

“You know we found Randall, right? He had turned, but he wasn’t bit.” Daryl said to Rick, brows furrowing in concern.

“How’s that possible?” Beth asked.

“Rick, what the hell happened?” Lori asked.

“Shane killed Randall. Just like he always wanted to.” Daryl guessed.

“And then the herd got him?” Lori asked. Iris stayed quiet, as did Glenn and Daryl. Even if they knew, and they suspected that Shane tried to kill Rick, that wasn’t something the others needed to know. Rick looked at the ground and stayed quiet for a moment.

“We’re all infected.” He said finally. Iris raised an eyebrow.

“What?” Daryl asked.

“At the CDC, Jenner told me. Whatever it is, we all carry it.” He elaborated. Everyone paused, taking in this new information. So, if ever they died, they would turn. Unless their brain was… killed, for lack of a better term, first. Randall broke his neck, so he turned. Shane… they still didn’t know what happened to Shane.

“You never said anything?” Carol asked, frowning.

“Would it have made a difference?” Rick asked.

“The difference is made now, with our opinion of you and how trustworthy you are. You don’t get to decide what information is worth anything to us.” Iris stated. Rick considered this, nodding after a moment.

“You knew this whole time.” Glenn shook his head.

“How could I have known for sure? You saw how crazy that mo—“

“That isn’t your call!” Glenn cut him off, agreeing with Iris. “When I found out about the walkers in the barn, I told, for the good of everyone.”

“Well, I thought it best that people didn’t know.” Rick stated simply. Iris hissed through her teeth, starting her own pacing. She felt trapped. They were stuck here, against the wall, nowhere to go…

Rick walked off to start forming the perimeter, leaving them to do as they liked to make camp. Lori followed after him while Daryl started setting up his crossbow. Iris kept pacing, her thumb nail between her teeth.

They built a fire, made camp. Daryl brought in the most firewood from the woods. Everyone was mostly quiet, speaking in hushed whispers as Rick walked around, patrolling. Iris was perched on top of one of the old stone walls, away from the fire. She didn’t need the warmth. The cold kept her awake.

A twig snapped in the distance and everyone’s hackles raised. They were like a nervous pack of dogs, guns raised as soon as they heard a single noise. Iris lifted herself into a crouch.

“What was that?” Beth asked.

“Could be anything. Could be a raccoon, could be an opossum.” Daryl shrugged, pulling out his crossbow.

“A walker.” Glenn stated tightly.

“Iris?” Daryl asked as Rick stalked back into the camp. She looked out, but couldn’t see anything in their immediate vicinity.

“Nothing.” She replied.

“We need to leave. I mean, what are we waiting for?” Carol asked, her voice shrill with fear.

“Which way?” Glenn asked.

“It came from over there.” Maggie replied, pointing.

“Yeah.” Beth agreed.

“The last thing we need is for everyone to be running off in the dark.” Rick hissed. “We don’t have the vehicles, no one’s travelling on foot—“ He was interrupted by a branch snapping again. Iris shuffled to the edge of the wall, peering out toward the woods.

“Don’t panic.” Hershel whispered.

“I’m not… I’m not sitting here, waiting for another herd to blow through.” Maggie murmured. “We need to move, now.”

“No one is going anywhere.” Rick snapped.

“Not a herd. I’d be able to see it.” Iris said, to hopefully provide some slight comfort. Daryl tossed her a flashlight and she shone it out into the woods.

“Do something.” Carol pleaded.

“I am doing something!” Rick replied. “I’m keeping this group together. Alive. I’ve been doing that all along, no matter what. I didn’t ask for this. I killed my best friend for you people, for Christ’s sake!” And there it was. Iris raised an eyebrow, content with her suspicions confirmed. She knew Shane’d try to kill him again. It wasn’t much of a loss, but everyone stared as he admitted it openly. “You saw what it was like. How he pushed me, how he compromised us. How he threatened us.”

“He threatened to kill Dale. And Rick. In front of me.” Iris added, to Rick’s benefit. He nodded in appreciation.

“He staged the whole Randall thing, led me out to put a bullet in my back.” Rick continued. Carl sobbed and Lori pulled him into her chest. “He gave me no choice! He was my friend, but he came after me. My hands are clean.” He insisted. Iris raised the other eyebrow. No one said anything in response.

“Maybe you people are better off without me. Go ahead. I say there’s a place for us, but maybe it’s just another pipe dream. Maybe I’m fooling myself again. Why don’t you go and find out yourself? Send me a postcard. Go on, there’s the door. You can do better? Let’s see how far you get. No takers? Fine, but let’s get one thing straight. You’re staying, this isn’t a democracy anymore.”

They stared in silence. Faces decorated with fear, anger, resentment. Of course they couldn’t survive without him, but this… none of them wanted this. Iris sucked on a tooth, turning back to the woods. She could survive on her own. She had survived on her own.

But she wouldn’t leave these people, these people that took her in. They were all she had left now. She couldn’t leave them to Rick. Hopefully not all of them took it too seriously. The people were the ones who overpowered Caesar, after all. Rick could exert his alpha male bullshit over them all he wanted, but what power did he have over them, really? The audacity to stand up and say so, she supposed. But that was all.

It was seven months later. They spent the winter hardening themselves to the world, honing survival skills. They moved better as a group now, but it was rough. They were starving. There were a few notable differences otherwise. Carl’s hair was longer, he was older. Frighteningly so, actually. He often accompanied them on runs or raiding abandoned houses. He could handle himself well, Iris thought.

Daryl’s hair would have been longer, had he not regularly shorn it off with a razor blade. Iris imagined that was how he’d always cut his hair, choppy and uneven. But, it was definitely Daryl. Glenn got beefier, well, they all did with the amount of cardio and manual labour they did in a day. He’d even shown the beginnings of a small moustache. Hershel had grown a thick beard, and Lori had grown the majority of another human. She was pretty big by now.

Rick led the way as they broke into an old house, the silencer on the end of his pistol doing wonders for clearing walkers quickly and quietly. T-Dog and Daryl followed behind, taking out a few remaining walkers before Iris and Carl came in to help clear the rest of the house.

The summer heat was sweltering, and Iris was glad for the pair of coveralls she donned most days. They were from the old garage, the name Tony embroidered in a patch above the breast pocket, and the gang logo patched on the opposite arm. Tony was a ‘cousin’, in that they both grew up under the gang, their fathers ‘brothers’ by oath. He’d died the second day in, saving Felix from a walker in an old pharmacy.

She wore his coveralls with pride, finding the top half easy to take on and off, tying the arms around her waist when it got too hot, as it was now. The house was mostly empty, clearly having been ransacked before. She followed Daryl upstairs, checking out a few empty rooms before Daryl came out of one holding a dead owl. She raised an eyebrow, following him downstairs as the group filtered into the house for the night.

He sat himself down, pulling feathers off of the bird. Carl found a couple cans, opening them with a can opener he’d found in his pocket, but when Rick picked one up, seeing the dog on the label, he threw it into the fireplace in anger.

T-Dog hissed quietly, jerking his head to the window. A small herd, catching up with them. They’d have to move on. They moved quickly out of the house, possessions dwindled more than they had before, enough that they could run easily if they needed to. Everything was tossed back into the cars and they pulled out, Daryl taking the lead on the bike.

They pulled to a stop on a side road, everyone getting out methodically. Iris rolled out the road map on the hood of the SUV. Markings in red across the state, placed they’d been, places they could go. Herds they’d seen and escaped. Most of it was crossed off with angry red X’s.

“We’ve got no place else to go.” T-Dog announced, examining the map.

“When this herd meets up with this one, we’ll be cut off.” Maggie pointed. “We’ll never make it south.”

“What would you say? That was about 150 head?” Daryl asked.

“That was last week. It could be twice that by now.” Glenn replied.

“This river could have delayed them. If we move fast, we might have a shot to tear right through there.” Hershel argued.

“Yeah, but if this group joins with that one, they could spill out this way.” T-Dog replied.

“So we’re blocked.” Maggie murmured.

“Only thing to do is double back at twenty-seven and swing toward Greenville.” Rick suggested.

“Yeah, we picked through that already.” T-Dog frowned. “It’s like we spent the winter going in circles.”

“Yeah, I know, I know. At Newnan we’ll push west. Haven’t been through there yet. We can’t keep going house to house. Need to find someplace to hole up for a few weeks.”

“Alright. Is it cool if we head to the creek before we head out? Won’t take long.” T-Dog asked. “We gotta fill up on water. We can boil it later.”

“Knock yourselves out.” Rick replied.

“Hey.” Daryl called. “While the others go wash their panties, we should go hunt. That owl didn’t exactly hit the spot.” He nodded to Iris and she grabbed her knives, slinging the belt around her shoulder. Rick followed her and Daryl into the forest, walking along a set of train tracks. They made it about a quarter mile before the trees spread, revealing the remains of a prison compound. It was completely overrun, the field flooded with the dead.

“That’s a shame.” Daryl murmured. They stopped overlooking the fences, guard towers. Iris looked to Rick, who had a telltale expression on his face. She turned to Daryl, who was watching her.

“We could clear it.” She said quietly. “We could.” One of the blocks had a fire inside, the soot spreading up the walls from the windows on the outside, but it could definitely work.

They gathered the others, bringing them to the prison. They took out a few walkers on the way while Rick cut into the chain link fence with a pair of bolt cutters. They slipped through, closing the hole in the fence with some spare wire. They could run around the compound now, safely in between the two fences. They jogged around to the front gates, where they could get in without cutting any more holes.

“It’s perfect.” Rick murmured. He pointed to the gate from the yard into the compound. “If we can shut that gate, prevent more from filling the yard, we can pick off these walkers. We’ll take the field by tonight.”

“So how do we shut the gate?” Hershel asked.

“What, no volunteers?” Iris joked. “I’ll go. Just cover me.”

“You sure?” Rick asked slowly. Iris shrugged, but he took that as a yes. “Alright. Glenn, Maggie and Beth, draw as many as you can over there. Pop ‘em through the fence. Daryl, go back to the other tower. Carol, you’ve become a pretty good shot. Take your time, we don’t have a lot of ammo to waste. Hershel, you and Carl take this tower. I’ll cover Iris from here.”

“We match.” Iris murmured, trying to psych herself up to go. She stretched a little bit, preparing to run. Rick turned to her in question. “The prisoners and I. We match.” She repeated, pointing to their blue coveralls and her own, still tied around her waist. Rick gave her a bemused but concerned look, and she waved him off. Glenn handed her two large carabiners that were connected by a chain. They’d been using it so far to close off other fences, so how different could this be?

"Ready?” Rick asked, gripping the chain gate. Iris nodded and he wheeled it open. She took off, ducking behind the tipped prison bus before making a run for it. She took out a few walkers on the way, feeling relatively safe as the others brought down the ones around her. Even when an arrow whizzed right past her head and into a walker behind her. Daryl had the best aim she’d ever seen. The only way she’d mess up is if she did it herself.

Or, so she thought. A bullet pinged into the ground at her feet as she skidded to a stop, dust and gravel blowing up around her. She looked up, wide eyed, at Carol.

“Sorry!” Carol called. Iris huffed, jogging up to the gate, kicking a walker out of the way as she wheeled it shut, clipping it in place. She shot her way into the guard tower right by the gate, closing it shut firmly behind her.

“Light it up!” Daryl called. Those on the outside rained fire down on the field, and Iris quickly joined them as she climbed up the ladder. Rick looked particularly pleased with himself as the undead numbers dwindled, and the last of them hit the ground. There was a beat of silence as they all beheld the field of dead walkers.

“Woo!” Iris cheered, grinning wide. This was a big win for them. She pumped her fist before running back down the guard tower, flinging open the door and running out into the field. She laughed as the others filtered in, equally large grins on all their faces.

“We haven’t had this much space since we left the farm!” Carol cheered, running into the field. Carl followed after her, laughing.

TAGLIST:

@heidiland05

@ryoujoking

@catlalice

@maxinehufflepuffprincess

@lowkeyhottho

@fadingpalacebonkpsychic

#thenameisz #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x original character #skeletons #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl dixon #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon x oc #twd daryl

13 notes · View notes

thebluemoonjune · 4 months

Text

The Elegance of Resilience Chapter 3: Bottled up

Chapter 3: Bottled Up

Summary:

With Lori's and Shane's unwelcomed interruption, Rick and his estrange wife get into it with a war of word since the two have come with demands.

"Rick, I'm taking the twins inside. They shouldn't see this. I'll be right back."

Michonne took André and went on her way.

"Good, She's gone!" Lori's face lit up. She smirked in satisfaction, as if she'd won a game.

Rick watched Michonne's weary footsteps take her away. Only when she was out of sight did he turn to look at his estranged wife.

"Your trespassing."

"My children are here. How does that count as trespassing? Don't be dramatic, Rick."

Rick rubbed his temple before putting his hands together. He did his best to stay calm.

"Why are you here?"

"I already said I needed to talk to you."

"About what? You're not welcome here." He softened his voice so the people inside wouldn't hear him, but he sure said it with all the disgust he could muster.

"You're bringing your mistress and her children around my kids?"

Rick's eyebrow twitched. He took deep breaths and gathered his thoughts.

"I took my sons and girlfriend to spend time with the rest of my family… Is that what you wanna talk about?"

"No, but since we're on that subject, I don't want your mistress around my children."

"Michonne and I are together. She's gonna be in their lives whether you like it or not! You gotta lot of nerve when you brought lover-boy here! I don't owe you shit, Lori!"

Speak of the devil. As if waiting for a chance, he opened his mouth for the first time.

Shane Fucking Walsh!

"Rick, man… We just wanna to talk. I know you don't wanna see-"

"Shut the hell up, Shane! Don't make this about you; this ain't about you!"

If there's anyone Rick would've died for other than his family, Shane Walsh would be it. They had known each other since they were seven years old. He was his best man and his children's godfather. Before his father, Herschel, Daryl, or Michonne, Shane was the one he told about anything and everything, including his issues with Lori. Shane was a ladies' man. He ran, and they chased. It's not hard to understand since Walsh was a strapping, well-built man with a strong; yet handsome face. He enjoyed every minute, parading a new one at the hip every few weeks. Rick often tried to convince him to settle down, but he'd say he wasn't ready.

When Rick found out he and Lori had been sleeping with each other for so long behind his back, all he felt was utter betrayal. It wasn't his wife that hurt him most, but the man he'd loved like a brother. Of all the women at his disposal, he had to go for his wife.

"I don't have time for this shit! Say your piece and go!"

Lori fell speechless for a while. The tone in which Rick spoke to her left nothing to the imagination. His visceral reaction shook her. Her hands began to clam up as she bowed her head, her mind desperately searching for the right words. When they still had a relationship, it didn't matter what she did. He'd always find a way to deal with it calmly. He didn't want to be the type of husband who resorted to a screaming match trying to solve problems. She hated it. Sometimes she just wanted to have a regular argument with her husband. Lori, however, never imagined he'd have this in him.

"I asked Shane to drop me off because I needed to see you. I also wanted the three of us to talk. We really should."

"And you thought coming here was the best place to do that? Wow, Lori."

"You wouldn't give me a chance!" she sighed, folding her arms. "I know this is hard for you, but we have kids. It's about them, about Judith, and how we move forward; it's about what we want out of this divorce."

"You've got some nerve, Lori! How could you stand there and preach to me about my children? How dare you?"

Rick's nostrils flared as he stared at Lori, his face contorted beyond recognition. He couldn't believe she had said that to him. He rolled his shoulders back. He didn't even notice Michonne making her way to his side or his parents and uncle coming out to see the commotion. His mother called out to him, but he couldn't hear. Even though he was outside, it's like everything was closing in around him. His mind burned larger and larger with absolute rage.

He was about to burst when he felt a tug at his shirt. It was then that he finally noticed her next to him. He could even see his cousin Maggie peeking out the window. Rick turned around, meeting his mother's eyes, and quickly looked away, not wanting to face her concern.

His Father walked to the four, letting his stern yet low voice loose.

"I don't recall inviting you, Lori. I'm surprised you're here. I thought Rick had Carl and Judy for the next few days. Was I wrong?"

Arthur Colton Grimes, at age 65, is a rigid, straightforward, and no-nonsense man. He spent over 25 years in law enforcement, serving 10 years as King County's sheriff. He looked like an older version of Rick; their personalities, however, were completely different. Rick was more like his mother, Grace, who was open, friendly, and kind to others in need, at least before everything happened. That wasn't the case for the older Grimes.

When Arthur spoke, everyone listened. The man's face was expressionless, but his blue eyes stabbed Lori.

Michonne kept her view on the man. She much preferred dealing with her boyfriend's mother. It wasn't because he'd been distasteful or showed dislike towards her, but because she felt small whenever he'd been around. She remembered the first time she met him at the hospital. He wore cowboy boots and jeans like Rick often did, and though they looked alike, he held none of Rick's warmth. He'd stared at her with the same null expression directed at Lori; Michonne, sure he could see through her.

She knew that look well, as she'd borne witness to it her entire life.

Rapping her hand around Rick, she nuzzled herself under his shoulder, bathing in his heat. Lori, caught off guard, was left standing without a word. Her eyes darted up and down. Before she could utter a sound, Arthur cut her off.

"You wanna talk to Rick, huh?" He stroked his beard, continuing in a monotonous voice. "Mhm, you can, but why are you causing a ruckus… Hmm?"

Resting his foot on the picket fence, he pointed to the large farmhouse.

"There are children inside. My great-niece and nephew. My grandkids, which include yours. This ain't Rick's house or your little boyfriend's. You wanna talk to Rick? At least act like you got some goddamn sense and do it properly."

"I wanted to talk to Rick about next week and everything else. It wasn't my intention to disrupt things. I couldn't get in contact with him, so I came here." She stood still, her pupils dilated and her respiration shallow, trying to settle herself.

Arthur turned to his son, eyebrows raised to high heaven.

"You ain't spoke to her? Why?"

Michonne didn't give Rick the opportunity. "He's been busy. Dealing with everything, you know?".

Rick let out a chuckle, turning his face from the involved parties.

"Then speak. I don't wanna hear you." Withdrawing from the conversation, he returned inside, pulling his wife and brother-in-law with him.

"Shane and I had a discussion... If Judith isn't yours, I wanna give her Shane's name."

"Excuse me? What?"

"He deserves that, Rick. I just wanna do the right thing. Judy deserves that."

"When you were screwing my best friend behind my back for an entire year, that you tryna do the right thing? I raised Judith. She's mine regardless. I don't need either of your bullshit."

Michonne pulled Rick's arm, desperate for the conversation to stay on track "Rick-".

But before she could finish, Lori heckled him. "The same child you demanded a DNA test for. We could have worked it out like you promised. You're the one who left, not me. We may not know about Judith, but you sure showed me."

"Rick, I know things between us are rough, man." Shane took off his hat before rubbing his dark hair. "But if she's mine, I'm gonna be in her life, and I'm gonna be a father. You've already started another family, man. Don't you think it's horseshit? Look, man, I'll fight if I have to; a fight you ain't winning."

"Fuck you!"

"Rick, Stop!" He was brimming with hostility as he marinated in resentment. Michonne's irritation began to crackle regarding the three and their childishness.

"Lori, all of these are things you're supposed to communicate with your attorney. You and Rick can find common ground when your opposing counsel parleys." "I didn't speak to you."

"No, but given that my partner is involved and you came here unwelcomed, I will certainly address you. You can take this as a little free advice from an attorney. You coming here was foolish. If I were Rick's attorney, I would have a field day. Coming to his family's property and harassing him while there are children, including your kids, that you didn't even ask about. Damn! Go home, Lori."

Nearly suffocating at a loss for words, rapid blinking ensued as one tried to process what she'd heard. She'd been completely taken aback by it. Her blood quickened. Inwardly, she was seething.

"I'll call you. I expect you to answer your phone." That's all she managed to articulate before turning on her heel and hopping in the car. Shane followed soon behind her.

"Let's go inside."

...

The day had already gotten off to a tiring start, though it was only a quarter past ten. Michonne knocked on the door to Beth's room.

Herschel Greene had two daughters, Bethany and Margret. Beth was his youngest at nineteen years old, while Maggie was twenty-seven, two years younger than her.

The door opened, and the young lady greeted her with a white, bright grin plastered on her pretty face from ear to ear, and her green doe eyes flashed with expectation.

"Your back!"

"Thanks for watching them."

"No problem!" Beth moved closer and asked in a hushed tone. "Are they gone?"

"Yeah, they're gone. The kids didn't hear anything, right?"

"No, but I'm sure Carl knows. He's thirteen. I'd been Jude's age when I started realising my folks' problems, even if they did their best to hide stuff. He's been quiet, real quiet. Judith's been playing with Herschel and Hana. The twins fell back asleep. I mean, he's a teenager. Can't be easy watching your parents divorce. It's been going on so long too, I don't know."

She shrugs her shoulders, tossing her sight to the floor. Michonne rubbed her blond hair.

"He's a good kid. He's strong too... he'll be okay. The sooner it's over with, the better it'll be for everyone…I'll leave the kids to their thing. Need to talk to your aunt."

"Alright, I'll call when the twins wake up."

Michonne nodded in gratitude, withdrawing from the discussion. Making her way down the corridor; a soft, young male voice hit her from the back, causing her to come to a standstill.

"Michonne?"

"Hey Angel, what's up?" The boy didn't answer at first. Flinging his head to the side, she could see his gears working over time. She didn't rush him. Her face softened, snickering under her breath, she folded her arms, letting him finish.

"Do you know where Dad is?"

"I do, but he's talking to Herschel and your grandfather."

"Oh… My mom was here, right? And Shane?"

"Why all the questions?"

"Because you're the only one that tells me everything."

Tilting her head, she smirked at his little quip.

"She did. She left about 15 minutes ago. With Shane."

Carl stood without moving a muscle, as if rooted to the spot.

"They're in the barn."

"What?"

"Your old man, Herschel, your grand-dad... They're in the barn."

His ears perked up, and like a dog with two tails, he hastily drove his body downstairs to the front door.

"Hey, Carl!"

He halted. "Yeah, Michonne?"

"Don't take me down with you."

"I'd have to get caught first!"

"Touché!". Tears threatened to fall from her glans as laughter consumed her. He went about his merry way.

What a rambunctious kid!

...

Moving into the kitchen, what befell her was Grace galloping across the room expeditiously. Michonne knocked to steal her attention. The older woman did a turnabout, examining the source. Getting her answer, she bloomed full of the joys of spring.

"Chonnie, you're here! Thank God! Thought I was gonna haul ass all over this kitchen, tryna make it in time for lunch. Would've been on time if uninvited guess hadn't shown up. Come help me with the chicken."

Michonne swiftly made her way over, becoming all hands on deck.

"Do I cut it up? Or are you baking it whole?"

"Cut-ups. What did Lori say?"

"If Shane's the father, she wants to give Judith his name. Shane, however, made it clear that he wants custody, full custody… Even if he hasn't said the words."

"They've got some nerve coming here, making demands. My boy raised that girl. What has that big buffoon of a man done?"

Grace diced the chives. Each dice more menacing than the last, as her temper sparked. She was such a pleasant person. To see her like this was always enlightening to the other party.

"When I got back to Rick, I managed to peep some of what they were conversing about. Lori said something that piqued my interest."

"Hmm?"

"It's about what we want out of this divorce.' That's what she said. I'm not a divorce attorney, but in my experience …"

Grace paused her chopping, her knife pointing to the sky. She pivoted her body to meet Michonne's eyes. Her face smouldering with resentment while anger welled up in her chest. Something else lurked there that Michonne couldn't place.

"You mean what she wants from the divorce?" Grace's eyes narrowed; cupping her forehead with her palms, she looked down. The knife still laying in her hands. "You know, I told Rick not to marry her. They were so young, so different. Didn't know shit. My blood just hadn't taken to her. I remember we got into it... we didn't talk up until the wedding, and even then. He told me he loved her, and if I couldn't accept that, I had no place in his life. Herschel tried to fix things between us, but he's twice as stubborn as I am."

Grace put the knife down on the chopping board, tears streaming down her face. She cried but continued.

" I told him that they would fail, and when they did, not to come to me, how someone stupid like him couldn't be my son. I'd been so ridiculous. After Carl was born, things got better, it did… but it was never the same. When Lori did what she'd done, or when he found out about Judith, He should have felt like he could've come to me. There were Herschel and Daryl, but they didn't have what he needed, and Arthur was always hard on him, ever since he was a little boy… A child should always be able to come to their mother, even if the whole world is against them, but I pushed my baby boy away. What kind of mother does that?".

She didn't move. Grace had trouble seeing through the tears. In the house, she sobbed, still holding on.

"When he got shot, all I could do was pray… It was all my fault. My sins were finally coming back to bite me after everything I said, and my Richard was the price. I begged God to forgive me, and maybe he did. It doesn't matter now; I got my boy back... Richard never did, though. It's okay if he doesn't because he's here; that's all I care about. I need him to be happy, and if that whore of a woman thinks I'm gonna let her hurt my son any more than she has, she's lost her fucking mind."

Michonne was left at a standstill. Her mind was working overtime. While she scoured her brain for the best course of action, Grace, however, dried her face, setting off to her incomplete job as if nothing occurred.

"Rick has never held anything against you. He loves you and Arthur; I know it. The two of you should talk." Grace stopped. Her obs flickered and grew damp, seizing a deep gulp of air before resuming the task. The two women spent the rest of their time together in silence.

...

The rest of the day was peaceful. It wasn't often that kids met up. And though the twins were the youngest of the bunch, they stuck to their siblings, and cousins link stink to a skunk. Usually, Michonne and Maggie would be glued to the hip, but Maggie was nowhere in sight. She came for lunch, although she hadn't eaten much.

Rick helped Herschel and Arthur on the farm while Michonne spent the rest of her day with Grace. By the time nightfall came, Rick was exhausted. He took a long, cold bath. When he got out of the shower, he was surprised to see Michonne still awake. She had gotten off the phone, turning to face him.

"Who was that?"

"My Mom… Dad got some time off, so they're coming next week... after you find out. So Tuesday."

Her Boyfriend didn't hide his uncertainty. Understandable since his relationship with her father left a lot to be desired. She didn't want to sour his mood more than it already was, so she changed the subject expeditiously.

"What's up with Mags?" Rick tossed on a bathrobe before throwing his body on the bed. His head was wet, so Michonne grabbed a towel and dried his hair. "Maggie isn't feeling well, and she and Herschel aren't talking, so..."

He watched her raise her bow in confusion, laying his head on her lap and began twirling her nightgown, after making himself comfortable, he went on.

"Maggie's pregnant."

"Really?"

"Mhmm… and she doesn't want it. Maggie wanted to talk to you about it, but you were busy, so she spoke to me after lunch."

"And I'm guessing Hersh isn't having it. It's not a choice I would make for myself, but I'm not Maggie, and Maggie isn't me. She got married young…became a mom young too. Having two young children isn't easy." She played with Rick's curls, continuing her thoughts on the matter.

"Herschel may be her father, but Maggie is a grown-ass woman. It's her and Glen's decision; he's her husband. He should have a say, not Herschel."

"Mhm. She's gonna have to wait till Glen gets back. That's what I told her, but enough about Maggie... We had a long day. Don't you wanna relax?"

Rick stroked her thigh gently as he stared with an impassioned gaze. His intense gaping made her shiver, leaving her with the impression that she was pinned by him.

"You want us to do this here?"

"We got kids together. Ain't nothing they don't know we're doing."

"Touché, Grimes… So what are we doing?"

"How about I just show you?"

His hand travelled up her thigh, exploring the skin under her nightgown. Her mind began to spin, drunk from his touch. She bit her lip, pulled him over, and kissed him. Caressing his back, her heart beat faster and faster as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

And for the rest of the night, they found themselves in a dreamy soundscape, swaying to each other's tune.

#richonne #rick x michonne #michonne grimes #richonne fandom #richonne fanfiction #richonne fic #michonne #alternate universe #richonn

4 notes · View notes

timelesseuphoria15 · 9 months

Text

A little tease for my new chapter 😉🤭

Chapter 7 - Hookman

Climbing into the car, the brothers saw that Stiles hadn’t moved, still laying on his back staring at the ceiling.

They drove down to the church Murph told them about and pulled up outside the building. Dean turned around to look at Stiles, “You don’t have to stay in the car for this one, Bud.” Stiles barely glanced at him before looking back at the ceiling, “You gonna come in with us?”

He didn't nod or shake his head or anything, just blinked at the ceiling.

“Okay.” Dean muttered and climbed out the car.

Sam turned and leaned over the back, looking directly at Stiles face, Stiles tilted his head to look at him, “I’m fine here-” he started.

“No.” Sam interrupted, “I think it’ll be good for you, come on.”

Sam climbed out the car and opened the back door, waiting for Stiles to sit up and climb out too.

Stiles hesitated, not in the mood to walk, but then saw they were parked outside of a church, he frowned, “What are we doing here?”

“The witness’s father is a reverend, she might be here so we can ask her some questions.”

“Oh, so you don’t actually need me for this.” Stiles huffed and tried to lay back down but Sam grabbed his upper arm and gently pulled him out of the car.

“You need to stretch your legs and get your mind on something else.” He explained, shutting the door behind Stiles so he couldn’t try and jump back into the car, “It’s not gonna help anyone if you stay in there and shut everyone out.”

Stiles glared at him for a moment before huffing and following Dean to the front steps, his hands in his hoodie pocket and eyes on the ground in front of him.

Dean tried to smile at him but Stiles didn’t even look up. Sadly, the three brothers walked into the church. They opened the doors, its loud hinges echoing through the hall, interrupting the sermon currently taking place.

The church goers turned to stare at them “-as a community,” The reverend continued, “and as a family. The loss of a young person is particularly tragic. A life unlived is the saddest of passings.” They quickly found an empty pew in the back and Lori, who was seated up front, was looking at Sam who smiled politely at her.

“So, please, let us pray. For peace, for guidance, and for the power to protect our children.”

Everyone bowed their heads, Sam followed their example and, noticing Dean still staring ahead, nudged him with his elbow. Dean frowned and followed on, copying everyone else. Stiles was staring at his feet, unable to look up at his brother. In the silence of the praying church, his own thoughts screamed at him; Murderer!

Live on the Archive as of a few days ago 👆😉😂 A new chapter is on its way!

#dean winchester #sam winchester #spark stiles #stiles whump #supernatural #stiles stilinksi #magical stiles #spn fanfic #fanfics #archive of our own

4 notes · View notes

rickgrimesdoingrickthings · 1 year

Note

“ they were flirting with you ” [ in alexandria about jessie 😅 ]

"Like I care." Rick shut the door closed after Jessie left.

"She just gave me a haircut. Brought some home supplies." He gestured showing the table. "You were out for quite some time. Was Daena interrogating too much?" he sighed, walking past her, taking the supplies and organizing, taking the towels and paper to the bathroom. "We're keeping this house. Carl is staying with Lori and Shane. For a change." Oh the sarcasm.

Of course Rick wouldn't say how he had cried moments earlier, before Fox had returned, when he got his hair cut, feeling the soft caresses on the back of his head, seeing a house again, shower, food...and he was so hungry. He also wouldn't admit Jessie was so...cute. Sweet. She reminded him of Lori...

....

Of course he was thinking about her. Jessie....

Rick sat, grabbing some food to eat. There was bread and butter. Damn. He cut a slice and savored it, and oh how he missed. He never thought something as simple as bread and butter would touch him so much.....his eyes were getting teary again, even though he acted differently. He tried to focus on eating. He also wouldn't say how he wanted to hug Carl...hug so tight. He had hoped his son would show up for a good night but...nothing yet. It just made him more bitter. Quietly he let a tear escape. So love deprived. Why that stupid woman had to be nice to him like that?? He touched the back of his head, it was like he could still feel her touch...

He looked down, upset at himself for still feeling all those lame things. "Fox, eat something. If they try to do us dirty and something happens, at least you won't be hungry."

#yes im keeping lori and shane alive for angst #fox and rick arent together also because well its fun from zero #i think #vuulpecula #rick grimes #officer not friendly

1 note · View note

journeydb · 1 year

Text

August 30 2022 Boulder

One of the strongest and most resilient people I have ever known is my friend Lori Canova. Lori was the CEO of the I Have a Dream Foundation of Boulder County for nearly twenty three years. She and I first met when she was interviewing for the position and I was on the board. I helped to hire her and it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. She was one of the best Executive Directors with whom I’ve ever worked and she led the organization to become one of the strongest in Boulder County and one of the leading I Have a Dream franchises in the country.

This is a picture of Lori with Bob Greenlee, one of the sponsors of the first I Have a Dream class in Boulder County, and Eugene Lang, the founder of the I Have a Dream national foundation. In 1981 Eugene Lang returned to the elementary school he had attended in East Harlem to speak to the graduating sixth graders about their future. On the way to the podium the principal told him that three quarters of the students would probably never finish high school. Mr. Lang changed his speech and told them if they finished high school he would provide them with college tuition. Now I Have a Dream foundations across the country are helping kids from underserved populations stay in school and graduate!

One of the keys to Lori’s success in life is probably her creative partnering with her husband, Brent, who is equally successful in his life. They are a loving, supportive couple who inspire me to believe that true love and a sustaining partnership are not only ideals but possible in the real world. They are models for not only their children, Andrea and David, but also for the rest of us. And now they are grandparents because Andrea and her partner are the proud parents of a baby girl born in June! So Lori and I get to be grandmothers together!

Into all seemingly perfect lives at least a little rain must fall and Lori has experienced a torrential amount of disasters in the last year. In December of 2021 Lori had a lot of pain in her back and they rushed her to the hospital, where she had emergency surgery for a tumor on her spine. It was a tremendously complicated surgery and left her paralyzed from the waist down. For the last year she has been in therapy and rehabilitation to learn to walk again. Since she was admitted to Craig Rehabilitation Center she has made tremendous progress and is now walking with a walker and riding a recumbent bike.

The next disaster that befell Lori’s family was that while she was in the hospital after her surgery their home in Superior burned to the ground in the Marshall fire. Brent and their son, David, tried to save whatever they could but it happened so quickly that nearly everything was lost. Now they are living in an apartment in Boulder while they work on the reconstruction of their home on the same site where it burned. I visited them there today and brought lunch. Lori and I sat outside on their balcony overlooking the city and the mountains and talked about the amazing, terrible, and wonderful things which have happened in our lives in the last few years.

Despite everything that has happened in the last few years Lori maintains an attitude of hope and joy. She is one of the most positive, uplifting, happy, and inspiring people I’ve ever known and I’m blessed to have her as a dear friend as we navigate the waters of our lives in the future and continue working together to build a stronger and more resilient community.

0 notes

daryl-dixon-daydreams · 3 years

Photo

Words: 8714 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: the Greene farm Warnings: Language, violence, gore, blood, severe injuries, fear, anxiety, death of a character A/N: This is the FINAL part of a miniseries! You can find the other chapters on the Masterlist! Summary: Y/N and Shane go missing.

Your name: submit What is this?

Two weeks later

“I can actually do it myself,” you insisted, feeling a blush in your cheeks as Daryl pulled your hand over onto his lap and bent over it, luckily oblivious to the pink glow now filling your cheeks.

He huffed at you. “I’m sure ya can,” he drawled, “but it’s definitely easier for someone with two hands, don’t ya think?”

You watched as he methodically and carefully snipped the stitches in your hand and pulled the sutures away, apologizing if they tugged at all. A lot had happened in the last two weeks. Pretty much everyone had come around to the fact that Shane had hurt himself in an attempt to get the group to abandon you. There had been a massive fight between him and Rick and since then Shane had been confined to his tent while he healed. When Hershel found out what had happened, he told Rick that Shane couldn’t stay, but Rick had already decided that he had go. His best friend seemed to be growing more bitter and more unstable by the day.

But Shane was still around temporarily, and because of that Daryl had refused to leave you to sleep unguarded at night. You’d argued that it would be fine and that you didn’t really think Shane would try to pull anything else, but the archer was insistent. Eventually, you caved. Daryl had hauled your cot and bedding to his tent and set them up along the opposite wall from his, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck at the strange nervousness and yet gratitude he felt knowing you’d be so close.

You both fell into an easy routine together. Your physical closeness may have been borne out of necessity but the other growing closeness developed organically. Spending time with Daryl was easy. He didn’t mind when you were quiet for hours on end, lost in your own head as you aimlessly tossed twigs into the fire. He didn’t mind when you wanted to talk about something specific or nothing at all, and you felt the same way about him. The silences didn’t bother you with Daryl and every time he did open his mouth it was either to make you laugh or to say something you were genuinely interested in hearing. He was constantly checking on you over the smallest things. If you shivered in the evening as you spent time around the fire, he’d insist that you moved closer to the flames or he’d go get a blanket from his tent and toss it down on your lap without a word before he took his place again. He’d make sure you were eating and would refill your canteen whenever he thought about it. You did what you could to return the favors but he usually seemed to beat you to it.

“I guess with these out I can finally start hunting again,” you said. “And going out and gathering stuff.”

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed, his eyes narrowed as he focused on removing the very last stitch. “There.” He straightened up and looked at the slightly raised pink scar down the center of your palm. He wasn’t sure what made him do it, but he ran a finger lightly down the length of it.

You startled at the unfamiliar sensation, a little strange due to the altered sensation along the length of the scar, but even more so because of the way your heart jumped at the touch of Daryl’s fingers so light on your palm. You involuntarily pulled you hand back and your eyes shot up to meet his.

He gave you a sheepish look. “Sorry. Did that hurt?” He regretted it the moment he’d done it, worried about your reaction.

You shook your head. “No, it just—”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing,” you finished quietly, chewing on your bottom lip a little anxiously. He quirked an eyebrow at you but simply stood up.

“Alright. Well, couple more days and that asshole will be outta here,” he growled, glancing over in the direction of Shane’s tent. He wasn’t yet allowing himself to acknowledge that he was worried things would go back to the way they were before once Shane was gone. That is, you’d retreat back to your space and back to yourself. He was really liking his time with you and he didn’t want it to end. The archer shook his head and glanced back at you. Your eyes were now on Shane’s tent, too but your expression was fretful. “S’matter?” he prompted you.

You sighed. “I just feel like it’s my fault he has to leave…”

“Nah. Nah, it ain’t. Y/N, if it weren’t you it’d be somethin’ else. He’s been spiralin’ down since Rick showed up alive and took his family back. It ain’t got nothin’ to do with ya, not really.”

You still looked unsure but the worry lines in your forehead eased a little. “Yeah. I suppose so.”

“Listen, I told Carol I’d go help her with that new tent. Ya gonna be alright over here?” he asked.

You nodded. “Mhm. I’ll be right here. Andrea gave me a new book.” You did glance a little longingly over your shoulder at the far tree line and Daryl was always amazed that even after the traumatic incident in those very same woods that you still wanted to be out there almost every minute of the day.

“Hey,” he said, calling your attention back to him. “We’ll go out and hunt tomorrow, alright?”

You nodded. “Tomorrow.” You watched his broad shoulders fade toward the main camp.

Carol was waiting when Daryl arrived. Her old tent had started to leak and Daryl had promised to help her get the new one they’d found set up. She stood up as he strode over, already flustered by the number of pins and ropes and metal poles. “If I’d known I’d be living out of a tent I definitely would have stuck with the Girl Scouts when I was a kid,” she said, giving Daryl a helpless look.

He let out a gruff laugh. “Ya got that the wrong way around,” he said, pointing to the pole she’d already slipped through the tent. She stared at it and sighed. “S’alright. That’s why I’m here right?” he said. “Gimme that,” he said, grabbing the bundle of poles in her hands and setting to work. In no time they had the tent upright and were going about staking it down. Carol handed Daryl another stake and he pounded it into the ground securing down the corner.

“So… what’s going on with you and Y/N exactly?” she asked him.

The archer froze and shot a look at her before returning his eyes to what he was doing, grateful for a task to focus on even as he felt his ears growing red. “What’d ya mean?”

“Well,” Carol continued, “you’re sharing a tent,” she said with a smile.

Daryl scoffed. “So? I shared a tent with T-dog once. Ya gonna ask me if we held hands?”

Carol laughed and smirked at him. “Well, did you?” Daryl rolled his eyes at her and she laughed harder.

“We’re sharin’ a tent cuz there’s a psycho that probably is blamin’ all his problems on her. And I don’t want shit to go sideways.”

“So, that’s it? You’re just sharing a tent for purely practical reasons,” Carol said. Daryl could hear the skepticism in her voice and he straightened up after tying off the knot to the stake.

“The hell are ya on about?” Daryl growled. But even as he tried to act gruff and brush her off, he felt that heat growing in his chest that was becoming familiar when he thought of you.

“You two just seem to get along,” Carol said. “That’s all.”

“Mmm,” Daryl hummed, moving to the next corner of the tent. Something about that response made Carol laugh again.

“You’re so sensitive,” she murmured, eliciting an eyeroll from him. “Daryl, I just like to see you happy. And lately, since you’ve been spending so much time with Y/N, you’ve been happy,” she pointed out.

He couldn’t deny that. She was right. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, his hands still on the last length of cord before he tied it off and pounded in the stake. He stood up and stepped back, taking in the structure. “Alright. All done.”

“Thanks,” she said gratefully, surveying it. She gave his shoulder a friendly squeeze and smiled. “Do me a favor?”

“Hmm?” he hummed, chewing on the side of his thumbnail, glancing up at her.

“If you really like her,” she paused and shrugged, “tell her. Life is short these days.” She knew that as well as anyone. A husband, abusive asshole or not, and a precious little girl were gone to this world.

Daryl only ducked his head and lazily twirled a piece of grass between his fingers. “I’ll see ya,” he murmured, turning and heading back toward his tent. He was expecting you to be sitting beside the fire where you’d been when he left, but that spot was empty. He approached the tent and stopped outside the door. “Y/N? Ya in there?” When there was no answer, he unzipped it and peeked inside. No sign of you. The book that had been in your hand was on the tent floor and he bent and picked it up, setting it on the upturned box that was serving as a nightstand next to your cot. That’s when he realized your knife was there. He’d been thinking maybe you had to go use the bathroom, but you never left camp without your knife at your hip, whether it was for two minutes or two hours. And it wasn’t like you to leave a book on the ground. You treated the damn things like they were some sacred tomes. He felt panic start to grow in his chest and left the tent in a hurry, his blue eyes scanning the area where everyone else was set up and the tree line. He didn’t see you anywhere.

Daryl grabbed his crossbow and took off running toward the main camp. He found Lori and Carol preparing some food for dinner and stopped beside them. “Hey—have ya’ll seen Y/N anywhere? She come through here at all?” He directed the question at Lori since Carol had been busy with him getting the tent set up.

She stood up and dusted her hands off on her jeans, shaking her head. Her eyes went a little wide with worry as she registered the deep concern on Daryl’s face. “No, I—I haven’t seen her. You can’t find her?”

Daryl didn’t even stay to answer. He just tore off in the direction of the farmhouse and bounded up onto the front porch. Glenn and Maggie both stood up at the expression on his face. “Ya’ll see Y/N? Did she come up here?”

Maggie shook her head. “No,” Glenn answered, immediately worried. “What’s going on?”

Daryl swore under his breath and paced a restless circle, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “I—I was gone for maybe an hour helpin’ Carol and now I can’t find her anywhere. She wouldn’ta gone off without her knife or nothin’,” he said. His jaw clenched and Glenn watched the muscle twitch. Daryl’s eyes quickly landed on the tent Shane was confined to and he took off at a full sprint toward it. Glenn was on his heels now.

“Daryl! Daryl, take it easy!” Glenn yelled after him. It drew the attention of the rest of the group and soon Rick and Andrea were standing beside Glenn as Daryl ripped back the entrance to Shane’s tent.

Daryl’s stomach twisted. Shane’s tent was empty. He kicked out at a milk crate that had some of Shane’s things on it and it toppled over. “Shane’s gone and Y/N is missin’!” he roared at Rick.

Rick gulped. A hard pit formed in his stomach. “Daryl—Daryl, just calm down,” Rick said.

That had the opposite effect. “Calm down? Calm down?!” he roared. “This ain’t no coincidence! I told ya he didn’t deserve to stay here to heal up, and now look what’s happened!”

“We’ll find them! We’ll find them. We will. Just—”

“Nah. I’m gonna track that fuckin’ prick and if he’s laid so much as a finger on her, he’s a dead man.” Daryl took off without another word, racing back to the last place he’d seen you, his eyes scanning the ground the whole way, hoping for a track, a trail, something.

“Dale, get the guns,” Rick said. “Lori, you and Carol take Carl up to the house and see if you can wait inside with Hershel and the girls.” Lori nodded and gave Carol’s arm a gentle squeeze. Rick rubbed a hand over the stubble on his face.

Andrea was stunned. “What do we do?”

Rick shut his eyes for a moment and pulled in a breath. “We get our guns and we look. We hope Daryl can pick up a trail and we hope we aren’t too late.”

You had been sitting contentedly by the fire reading when you decided you wanted some tea. You knew there were still some dried spicebush leaves in your pack from your last foraging trip and you went in to get them. You were crouched beside your pack, digging in the pocket when you heard a metallic sound that was easily identifiable. It was the slide of a pistol being drawn back and released, a bullet moving into the chamber. You froze with your hands in your pack and slowly turned. You could see Shane outside the window netting and his gun was aimed right at you.

“Get up. Slowly. Leave all your shit.”

You gulped and did so, replacing your pack against the wall and abandoning your book on the floor.

“Come over here. Zip the tent up and don’t even think about trying anything because I will kill you right here,” Shane growled, and you believed him. “Let’s go. Now.”

Again, you complied. You glanced desperately toward the main camp, hoping with every part of you that Daryl would be headed back or somehow happen to look over and see what was happening, but you knew you didn’t have any options except to comply. Comply and hope for an opening to save yourself.

Shane’s gun was still trained on you as you stepped around the outside of the tent. He was gritting his teeth in anger as you stared back at him. You were determined to remain calm and in control.

He nudged the barrel of his gun in the direction of the tree line. “Move. Let’s go.”

You felt sick, knowing that once you went into those trees the chance that you would ever come back out was low. But what choice did you have? He had a fucking gun on you and you had nothing.

You made your way toward the woods. Shane pressed the muzzle into your back. “Faster. And don’t even think about making a fucking sound. I will shoot you right here. I don’t even care. At least then I wouldn’t have to worry about you going all psycho-killer. Wouldn’t have to worry about Lori anymore. Or Carl.”

You bit your tongue to stop a retort.

Soon, you were under the dark canopy of trees, cloaked in shade and moving further in with Shane’s gun at your back. He was nervous, on edge, and understandably so, because you knew if Daryl caught him… he’d be dead in an instant. You decided your best course of action was to try to reason with him. You really did believe that he was just fucked up from being in love with a woman he couldn’t have. This was all misplaced blame and aggression. He really wanted to fuck Rick up, but that loyal part of him, that police partner, wouldn’t let him. Some part of him couldn’t bear to do that to Carl and Lori, even while another part of him was desperate to. You were an easy target, the next best thing to blame for his failed attempts to get back into the place he wanted to be, to regain some control, to prove he knew best and was still The Protector. If he had been able to show everyone that you were really a threat and that he and not Rick had taken care of it, he really thought maybe that would win Lori over. But that had all backfired. Now you were just easy to blame for all his problems.

“Shane, I know this isn’t really what you want,” you said quietly.

“Shut the fuck up. You don’t know a goddamn thing about me,” he growled back, nudging you sharply with the muzzle of his gun again.

“I don’t want you to have to leave either. I know it isn’t fair,” you continued. “You took care of everyone for a while before Rick showed up.”

“I said shut up!” he spat again through clenched teeth. “Ya know what? Sit the fuck down. Right there, against that tree.” He shoved you hard and you stumbled, barely catching yourself with your hands on the large oak before your face would have collided with it.

You obeyed and sat with your back against the tree, gulping at the dryness in your throat, and turning to stare directly at the gun pointed in your face.

Something about how calm you were being, how steady, was completely freaking Shane the fuck out. He wanted you to snap. He wanted to be able to say that he was right about you and you were a danger to everyone in camp, like you were some unpredictable monster. But you just sat there looking up at him, now completely silent, your eyes flickering between the muzzle of his gun and his face. Shane swore under his breath and paced back in forth in front of you. Your eyes followed his movements. You bided your time, trying to come up with something that would defuse this whole situation.

“How is this going to fix anything?” you asked him. “This is only going to make everything worse.”

He didn’t stop pacing and occasionally shooting a look at you that made your blood run cold. You were starting to think that maybe there was no reasoning with him…

“You can just let me go. I’ll just tell everyone I needed to get out of camp for a bit. You can wander back in like nothing happened,” you said.

He pointed the gun at you again and his lip curled. “There’s no going back from this. No going back from everything that’s already happened. And I know there is something wrong with you. I know it. If I’m not going to be here to keep an eye on you, I need to end this now so you can’t hurt anyone. Because I know you will snap eventually. I saw what you did to those men.” Shane got right into your face, poking you in the shoulder with the muzzle of his gun.

“I was defending myself,” you said quietly, feeling guilty and horrified at yourself even as you tried to justify it to Shane.

“So you say,” he growled, his pistol now aimed at your forehead.

“If I was going to snap like you’re saying, wouldn’t now be a good time?” you said quietly. “Obviously you’re a threat to me. But I’ve done everything you’ve asked.”

He scoffed and straightened up again, resuming his pacing. “What—what the hell happened to you, huh? What fucked up thing twisted you to the point where you could do what you did to those men? Do you even remember it? Do you even know how many times you stabbed them?” he pressed. He was trying to agitate you, but it didn’t work.

Your stomach was churning with the foggy memory of being covered in their blood, of seeing their corpses on the ground, but you only stared back at Shane. No way in hell you were divulging what you’d been through to Shane, gunpoint or not.

He ran his tongue over his teeth and you watched as the muscle in his jaw clenched. He charged toward you again. “You know what? I’m done with this,” he growled. He pressed the gun to your forehead, aiming at a downward angle. The metal bit into your skin. You stared up at him briefly, eyes wide but surprisingly calm, and Shane watched in some disbelief as you finally just shut them and seemed to resign yourself to the fact that you were about to die.

That hesitation was all you needed.

You shoved Shane’s arm away and the gun with it and snatched the knife at his hip, ripping it free from its sheath and slashing at him, leaving a good gash on his arm. But a knife wouldn’t be any match for Shane with a gun. He was a firearm instructor and you knew his aim was deadly accurate, so before he could entirely recover from his surprise you ran at him full force and the two of fell to the ground hard. The pistol flew from his hands and landed in the leaf little a few feet away. You began to crawl desperately toward it, trying to put distance between you and Shane as quickly as possible, but you let out a yell as you felt him grab hold of you and pull you back.

The next thing you knew he was over you, trying his hardest to get the knife from your hand. You were slashing at him desperately, catching him on the forearms as you struggled beneath him. You caught him with a particularly strong slash but the next moment he had your hands pinned in his and he wrenched the knife from you. The rush of blood was loud in your ears and now you were on the defensive. You shielded yourself with your arms as best you could and continued to struggle beneath him, but his weight was too much.

Shane suddenly managed to push your arms out of the way and you saw the knife coming toward you as if in slow motion. It was heading straight for the center of your chest. You thrust your left arm out and felt the blade pierce it deeply before ripping clean and lodging in your left shoulder. You let out a scream of pain, but as Shane was now leaning over you, you managed to get your knee up underneath him and thrust it as hard as you could into his groin.

He let out an agonized yell and rolled off you, abandoning the knife that was still lodged deeply in your shoulder. You gritted your teeth and were vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face and the fact that you were trembling. But there was no time to stop. You couldn’t stop if you wanted to live. You clutched at the knife in your shoulder, staring briefly with shock at how deeply it was embedded, but didn’t dare to pull it out. Rolling over and holding yourself up on your lacerated forearms, you fixed your eyes on the gun and made a desperate lunge for it. You felt hands on your legs again, dragging you back.

Back toward the edge of the tree line, Daryl had picked up the trail easily and was frantically tracking. Rick and the others were on his heels, glancing around nervously, straining their eyes in the veiled darkness beneath the canopy and their ears in the closeness of the trees. But it wasn’t long that they had to trail behind the archer because soon a strained yell made it to their ears. Daryl felt his blood run cold.

He paused hardly for a moment before he tore off through the trees in the direction he’d heard your voice echo from. “Y/N!” He wanted you to know he was on his way. He needed you to just hang on. He pushed himself to run through the nausea that had risen when that sound, your pained voice, had met his ears. He tore through the foliage, the sound of pounding boots on the soil loud behind him as the others followed.

“Daryl! Daryl, slow down! We can’t just—” Rick paused as he had to bust through some shrubs. “We can’t just barrel in there!” But it was as if the archer hadn’t heard anything. He just continued running, trying to listen over his own gasping breath and pounding pulse but simultaneously afraid of what he would hear.

Crack.

The unmistakable sound of a gunshot.

Daryl skidded to a stop, frozen. His face blanched, almost ashen as Rick caught up and glanced over at him. Sweat was pouring down from their foreheads and running down their necks, soaking the thin cotton of their shirts. A small strangled noise escaped Daryl’s lips as he searched the ground frantically again for the trail, needing to know he was running in the right direction. He spotted it. Direction confirmed, he took off at an even madder pace than before. “Y/N!” There was no answer.

But he couldn’t allow himself to think the worst. He couldn’t. That couldn’t happen to you. After everything you’d already been through… how could he have let this happen? Why had he turned his back on you for even a minute with that prick still around? He felt shaky and weak even as he ran.

The group had just pushed through another thick swath of understory when Daryl saw a bundle ahead, lying motionless on the ground. His breath caught in his throat and his boots rooted into the soil for a moment. But he pushed himself to move forward again.

Behind him he was vaguely aware of a gasp from Andrea and some murmur from Glenn.

As he moved closer, he realized there was a second shape ahead and as his eyes refocused, he saw that it was you. You were leaned up against a big oak tree, propped up against the rough bark, your head lolled toward your chest. Some pained gasp or muted scream, catching mostly in his throat, left his lips before he tore off toward you again. As he fell to his knees beside you, he took in the soaked crimson of your shirt. Your arms were cut up and absolutely covered in blood. Then Daryl’s eyes landed on the hilt of the knife still embedded in your left shoulder. His hands shook as he hesitated before lifting your chin, terrified that your skin would be cold and lifeless. You were bruised and battered, bleeding from a swollen and split lip and a gash near your hairline, but there was some semblance of warmth still in your skin, though you were pale. More miraculously yet, when he gently lifted your chin, you started to stir and Daryl watched in desperation as you struggled to open your eyes, eventually succeeding.

“Hey, hey. S’alright. I’ve got ya. I’ve got ya…” He could hear his own voice shake as he spoke.

You gulped, wanting to clear the taste of iron from your mouth. “I had to,” you managed to croak out. “I had to.”

Daryl knew you were referring to Shane’s lifeless body behind him on the ground. “S’ok. It don’t matter. Don’t talk now, alright? Just rest. I’ve got ya.”

Daryl felt someone behind him and turned to see Glenn just behind him. His face was pale as he took in your condition. “Her shoulder... Oh my God,” Glenn gasped.

“She’s gonna be fine,” Daryl said forcefully. He carefully slid his arm behind your back and another underneath your knees. You were fighting to stay awake. “Daryl…” you murmured. You felt so small in his arms as he lifted you. Daryl was vaguely aware of your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, gripping it hard before you fell unconscious again, going limp in his arms. He turned and started heading back to the farm, moving as quickly as he dared with you in his arms, conscious of the knife still wedged cruelly into you. The sight of it protruding from you made him sick with rage. Rick was kneeling beside Shane, his face downturned, as Daryl breezed past. Andrea stood just behind him with a hand pressed over her mouth, watching as Daryl carried your bloodied body past her.

As Daryl’s broad shoulders disappeared, Glenn bent and retrieved the pistol lying on the leaf litter among streaks of your blood. It felt like a lead weight in his palm.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl sat slumped in a chair beside your prone form laid out on the bed, covered over in the blankets. He was leaned over forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped so tightly that his knuckles shone white.

After days of agonizing waiting, there was a soft noise from you and his eyes shot up urgently to see you stirring a little on the pillow. He rocketed to his feet so fast that the chair he’d been in clattered backward loudly to the floor. “Doc!” he yelled out. Hershel rushed in a moment later.

You dragged your eyelids open with a great amount of effort and the first thing you saw were Daryl’s piercing blue eyes looking down at you with immense concern. You moistened your lips with your tongue and cleared your throat, which felt dry and scratchy, preparing to speak. He watched as your expression melted into a veil of confusion. “I’m not… not dead?”

Daryl felt a painful pang in his chest as he watched you spinning with disbelief.

Hershel leaned over you with a kindly and somewhat sad expression on his face. “You most definitely are not. Though you surprised all of us after what you went through,” he said putting a gentle hand on your uninjured shoulder.

Your eyes turned back to Daryl’s. “Shane—” His name seemed to strangle and catch in your throat. “I—”

“I know. Ya had to. S’alright,” Daryl drawled, his brow furrowing low over his eyes.

You mouthed wordlessly for a moment, your eyes brimming with tears. “Is he—did he—?”

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod, his expression full of concern. “He’s gone.”

You felt that you already knew the answer but it still made your stomach churn. You laid more heavily into the pillow and shut your eyes, a pained expression crossing your face. When your eyes finally fluttered open again they were still a little glassy. Daryl wondered at this display of remorse, of regret you had for a man who had clearly taken you into the woods to kill you.

But what Daryl saw next was you clearly struggling against some flashback. You squeezed your eyes shut and your breathing quickened. Beads of sweat broke out on your hairline and your face tensed.

Daryl’s hand shot out to gently grab yours before he even knew what he was doing. “Hey.” He gave it a gentle squeeze. “Y/N. S’alright. You’re safe,” he drawled.

Your eyes opened and you glanced down at your hand in his. Daryl withdrew, suddenly self-conscious. You nodded and seemed to come back to the present.

You reached across yourself to grip your left shoulder, a wave of pain running through you and a grimace tightening your features. You felt thick gauze beneath your fingers. As you moved you became aware that you had many little rows of stitches on your arms and a few gashes wrapped up in bandages as well. Even your hands were cut up from your attempts to defend yourself. You extended your arm in front of yourself and took in the damage done by Shane’s knife.

“I don’t understand,” you said softly. “I thought for sure I was going to die out there.” The way you said it was so matter-of-fact and Daryl felt a rush of anger overwhelm him for a moment. Shane was lucky he was dead when Daryl had gotten there… He’d gotten off easy with a single round to the chest.

Hershel nodded. “You have a lot of strength in you. Rest. Everything is going to be just fine. You’re going to heal up and be back to normal before you know it, though that shoulder may need a little extra TLC.” The doctor took his leave and your eyes found Daryl’s again. He read worry on your face.

“What is it?” he drawled.

You gulped. “I’ll leave as soon as I’m healed up,” you said, now avoiding his eyes.

Daryl’s brow furrowed more deeply. “Why the hell would ya do that?”

His tone was forceful again and drew your eyes back to his. “The others—after what happened, I can’t imagine they want me around anymore.”

Daryl sighed heavily and righted his chair again, sinking down in it close at your bedside. “For once yer wrong about somethin’,” he said. “Nobody wants ya to leave. Ya didn’t do anything more than defend yourself, just like ya did with those men before. Anyone can glance at ya for one second and see that.”

You shifted in bed, trying to make your injured shoulder more comfortable, laying your other hand over it absently, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek. You still looked unsure.

“Y/N, when we found ya you had a damn knife sticking out of your shoulder.” He paused and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck a little anxiously. “I—” his voice seemed to catch in his throat. “I thought we lost ya.”

You peered at him curiously.

He leaned forward. “Listen to me, if anybody even so much as looks at ya like ya shouldn’t be here, they’ll have to deal with me.”

Daryl watched, a little anxiously, as your lips parted softly. “I’m not sure I deserve that from you,” you finally managed quietly. “You’ve already done enough. Daryl, I suspect you saved my life.” You gulped and stared down toward the edge of the blankets. “In more ways than one…”

The archer averted his eyes down toward his boots and chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, nervous and wavering between his insecurity and need to reassure you, not allowing himself to really think on what you’d just said. “Hey. Yer a part of this group, even if ya ain’t always felt like it.”

You studied him for a long moment before you spoke again. “So are you,” you said perceptively. His blue eyes shot up to meet yours and you gave him a weak smile. “Can you do me a favor?”

He nudged his nose up in a nod. “’Course.”

“Can—can you help me take a walk outside? I need some air,” you said quietly.

“Are ya sure yer up for that? Ya had surgery on that shoulder. Ya lost a lot of blood. Ya just woke up after bein’ out of it for three days. I don’t think it’s—” Concern creased his forehead.

You nodded. “I’m sure. You won’t let anything bad happen to me. I’ve at least learned that by now.” You felt a bloom of warmth in your chest as you spoke those words, coupled with the realization of their truth almost at the same time as they left your lips. That burst of heat you felt was reflected in a pink hue in the archer’s face and the tips of his ears.

He looked a little bashful but nodded and acquiesced to your request. “Alright. C’mon,” he said, gently taking your hand, avoiding the injuries carefully, and doing his best to ignore how nervous he felt when his fingers closed around it. He helped you out of bed and steadied you as you got to your feet. You glanced up at him, and your expression was so open and earnest he was frankly shocked by it. Could it really be that you were looking that way at him? His fingers were light under your elbow and his other hand was ghosting behind your back, centimeters away from making contact if needed as you started toward the door. “Ya alright?”

You nodded and gulped at the rush of feelings his hand around yours had brought, trying your hardest to ignore it. All you could do was nod. The two of you emerged onto the porch and Glenn and Maggie stood up immediately from their place nearby in the seating area. Both of them were all smiles to see you on your feet.

“You’re up,” Glenn said, looking at you with a bewildered smile. “This is amazing. It’s so good to see you awake!” His expression was nothing but kindness.

“How are you feelin’?” Maggie asked.

You nodded, glancing back over at Daryl and relaxing some as you saw one corner of his mouth was twitched up. His blue eyes were fixed on your face and he couldn’t look away. Seeing you actually awake and already on your feet was a huge relief after many days of sickening worry. “I feel alright. A little tired,” you admitted. Almost as if one cue you wavered a little on your feet, your knees feeling suddenly weak.

Daryl’s hand landed flush against the small of your back, immediately steadying you. “Easy,” he rumbled. “Ya alright?” You nodded, quite sure your cheeks were pink, and when you glanced back at him and mumbled a small “thanks” you thought maybe his cheeks were pink too. You turned back to Glenn and Maggie and your eyes drifted to all the numerous stitches on your arms. “I’m definitely a little worse for wear. But could have been worse…” you trailed off.

“Definitely,” Glenn said, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’re all just so glad you’re okay.”

Just at that moment you heard boots on the stairs and you looked up to see Rick, thumbs slung into his pockets as usual. Your heart rate increased with anxiety and you gulped at the sudden tightness in your throat. You’d killed his best friend. You’d pulled the trigger and killed Shane. “I’m sorry,” you said to the Sheriff.

But Rick was smiling at you with tears in his eyes, shaking his head slightly. “This is my fault,” he said suddenly, a rasp in his voice from emotion and your eyes widened in surprise. “This is my fault and I am so sorry. Daryl told me—and I should have listened. Shane was way more of a threat than I was willing to admit. This should have never happened to you,” he drawled. “And I hope you can forgive me at some point.”

You stared at him for a long moment, blinking in the sun and breathing in the freshness of the outside air. “It’s already forgiven,” you said softly, nodding at him.

Daryl stared at you in awe of how, despite everything you’d been through, you still could extend that forgiveness so easily.

Daryl sensed some shift in you and his brow drew down low over his eyes. “Let’s get ya back to bed. C’mon.”

You allowed him to help you back through the farmhouse and even into bed as you struggled not to put any weight on your left shoulder, wincing as you moved. Daryl watched you settled in and stood a bit awkwardly at your bedside. He nervously ran a hand back through his hair. “Well, I’ll let ya get some sleep,” he drawled, turning to leave.

“Daryl.”

He turned back to glance at you and your expression was a bit hesitant. “Hmm?”

“Would you stay? …please?”

He didn’t need to hear anything else. He planted himself right back down in the chair at the side of the bed and watched as some of the tension on your face eased.

“Thanks,” you said quietly with a sigh. Daryl watched as you closed your eyes and shifted, trying to make your shoulder more comfortable, but a moment later your eyes fluttered open again and met his. “He put the gun to my forehead,” you suddenly said quietly.

Daryl’s stomach plummeted and then swirled with anger. He stared back at you, incredulous with rage easily readable on his face.

“I made my peace with the fact that he was going to pull the trigger.” Your voice was somewhat disconnected, distant. “But then… he hesitated. And I took the chance and I fought.”

Daryl gulped. “Ya made it. Yer alright.”

You nodded and looked at him for a long moment, seemingly on the edge of saying something else, but you finally just sighed and your eyelids, now heavy with exhaustion, closed again. Soon, you were asleep. And Daryl stayed at your bedside and drifted off himself. _ _ _ _ _ _

Some time later You tossed down the game stringer, loaded with squirrels, in front of Daryl. “Ten,” you said, a wide grin spreading across your face. “What’d ya get?”

He looked up at you and affected an unamused expression. “Nine,” he drawled, pointing to his harvest waiting to be cleaned.

“Ha! I win again,” you said, absolutely brimming with joy. “I thought you said you were good at hunting?” you teased him.

He rolled his eyes at you and looked over as you sank down beside him. “Ya beat me by one. Ain’t exactly a landslide, is it?”

“A win is a win,” you announced with satisfaction.

He rolled his eyes again, but his expression quickly turned to concern as he caught you rubbing your shoulder. “Sore?” he asked you, his brow drawing down. “Maybe ya shouldn’t be hunting with that bow again yet.”

Your face softened as you caught his blue eyes. “I’m fine. It’s just a little tired, that’s all. Hershel says I need to build my strength up again.” Daryl’s eyes caught on the scar where the knife had been lodged into your shoulder. It was matched by many smaller ones on your arms, all with the same pink hue due to their newness. He could also see the brand on your arm, 1048, the remnant from your time under The Copperheads. Before, you would wear long sleeves in the height of the Georgian summer just to avoid anyone seeing that mark. Now there were a lot more scars added to it, but you didn’t seem to care. It was like you finally had a weight lifted off your shoulders and you felt free for the first time in a long time, unencumbered by your past.

“We should get ya a crossbow, like mine. Then ya wouldn’t have to hold the draw with that shoulder.”

“I like my old-fashioned recurve bow,” you said, pulling it over onto your lap and looking down at it fondly. “Especially because I can still beat you with it,” you smiled at him.

Daryl seemed suddenly fidgety and you picked up on it immediately. His eyes turned down and his expression was suddenly serious.

“What? What is it?”

He shrugged, still seemingly avoiding your eyes. “Can I ask ya somethin’?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “Always.”

He flicked his thumb along the sharp edge of his knife. “How—with everything that ya’ve been through, how come ya ain’t just angry? I’m angry just thinkin’ about it. And it didn’t even happen to me.”

“Mmm,” hummed thoughtfully. Your eyes turned out across the verdant pasture, toward the trees you’d spent the day under. “I am angry sometimes. But,” you shrugged, your right hand shielding over the scar on your left shoulder absently, “being angry doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t fix it. It all still happened.”

Your eyes grew a bit far-off, a bit distant. Daryl took several forced, deep inhales and gathered his courage before reaching over and taking your hand in his, pulling it away from your shoulder.

You looked over at him in surprise. Your hand felt small between his. Your gaze was questioning. Daryl’s heart was pounding so hard in his ears he couldn’t hear anything else. He gulped, trying to clear his throat so he could talk. “‘M gonna make sure nothin’ else bad happens to ya. As best I can,” he murmured.

You nodded almost imperceptibly, your eyes still a little wide from the unexpected action of him taking your hand in his. “Only if I can do the same thing for you.”

You saw him gulp nervously before he nudged his nose up in a nod at you. “Yeh, I think—I think that’d be alright,” he said.

You gave him a half-smile that he found incredibly endearing and his nerves finally got the better of him and he released your hand, clearing his throat and awkwardly rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m, uhh, just gonna go grab some more firewood,” he drawled, standing up abruptly and internally cursing at himself as he left you sitting alone by the fire. Fuckin’ coward. Despite all his attempts at denial, Daryl had realized over the last couple weeks that he couldn’t ignore how he felt about you anymore, but now he was stranded in this place between where he was and where he wanted to be with no idea how to bridge the gap. He wandered back with an armload of firewood, internally frustrated and kicking himself, but his frustration vanished almost immediately when he had dumped it next to the fire circle and glanced at you again. You were looking at him with that open expression, this time with a little inquisitive lift in one of your eyebrows.

“Hmm?” he hummed, pulling his bottom lip back in between his teeth and worrying it anxiously.

You tilted your head toward the place he’d previously been sitting and he gulped as he sat down, still feeling your eyes steady on him. He thought that now you looked a little nervous. “Can I ask you something?” you said quietly.

The archer nodded, nervous flutters flitting to life in his stomach.

“Umm… is it just me, or have you slept like shit, too, since I moved out of your tent?”

Once you were no longer staying in the house healing up, Daryl had moved your things out of his tent for you since there was no longer any need to worry about Shane. It wasn’t that you had asked him to, or that he’d even wanted to, it just seemed like he should…Afterwards, you’d actually moved your whole campsite closer to his, directly next to it, but you still found yourself tossing and turning on your cot, unable to fall asleep or stay asleep.

Daryl stared back at you for a moment in disbelief. He’d slept like garbage since you’d moved back, and he hadn’t even had the heart to fill the cleared space you’d once occupied with the stuff he previously had kept there. Now the emptiness loomed, drawing his eyes, the physical manifestation of how he felt something was just missing. When you slept on your cot across from him, he’d wake up in the middle of the night and look over at the shadow of your sleeping form. He always felt some swell of relief and maybe something else he couldn’t quite identify… Something about listening to your calm breathing always relaxed him and he found himself able to shut his eyes and drift off again. Maybe he’d gotten used to it. Maybe he shouldn’t have. But since you’d left, he’d been restless and anxious at night, wishing the material of his tent and yours would vanish so he could check on you.

Your nerves were growing with each moment of silence as you anxiously watched him, waiting for him to say something. “No, I—“ he had to clear his throat, nerves making his voice come out strangely strangled, “I’ve—” he let out a scoff of a laugh, almost incredulous he was about to say it to you, “I’ve slept like shit since ya left.”

“…really?”

He nodded, finally meeting your eyes again. “Mhm. Can’t fall asleep, can’t stay asleep, just feels like I lay there all the time w—”

You grabbed him by his lapel and pulled him toward you, pressing your lips softly to his, your eyes shut tightly, overwhelmed with nerves even while you melted into him. Your fingers cupped his face gently, like he was something fragile and Daryl was reeling.

By the time he reached back for you and got over his surprise you were already withdrawing and he blinked, bewildered, as he took in the wide-eyed expression on your face and your partially parted lips.

“Uhh—was that—okay?” you breathed, anxiety ratcheting up with each passing moment of uncertainty.

“Ya,” he drawled. It spilled from him like warm molasses. He watched as your face broke into a relieved smile and your cheeks burned pink.

“Good,” you murmured, unable to look at him any longer.

“Only I—I wasn’t ready,” he murmured. Your eyes flickered up to his again. He gulped nervously and reached out to move a strand of hair out of your eyes before clasping your face. His blue eyes were flickering between yours and then down to your lips. You could tell he was nervous and it brought a small smile to your face. Your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned toward him, only having to wait a second before you felt his lips crashing against yours.

This time the kiss was heated and urgent and he pulled you into him gently with his hand at the nape of your neck. You happily leaned in, smiling against his lips, your hand pressing flush to his strong chest and the other landing lightly on his side, driving him crazy. Daryl’s hand smoothed over your shoulder and down your bare arm, electricity rising in its wake.

When you broke apart this time, you were both all stunned smiles again, though now you couldn’t look away from each other.

“So, uhh—ya wanna stay with me tonight? Sounds like we both need some real sleep, ya know, and I dunno…” Daryl wasn’t used to asking for what he wanted so blatantly, or making himself vulnerable, but somehow you brought it out of him and he was willing to jump off that ledge if it meant he got to kiss you and touch you and hold you all night… things he had thought about plenty when he was lying on his cot, unable to sleep, but never saw as a reality.

You nodded, that same smile you always gave him glowing on your face. He was constantly amazed by the light you exuded; despite everything you’d been through… everything you’d shared with him.

He needed that. He needed the light. He needed you. You gave him hope.

That night you settled in against him, nervous but melting into the safeness of his arms around you. Daryl worried he was too overwhelmed to sleep, but moment by moment he realized how natural having you against him felt, how safe, how perfect, and before either of you spoke another word you both drifted off in blissful silence.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

777 notes · View notes

diaryofabeautyfiend · 3 years

Text

This is two parts because I got carried away. I wrote this on my phone and proof read as much as I could.

Warnings: cheating, male masturbation, m/f sex, minor spoilers for “Defending Jacob”.

——————————————————————————————

Plain Gold Ring

“Plain gold ring on his finger he wore

It was where everyone could see

He belonged to someone, but not me

On his hand was a plain gold ring”

-Nina Simone

When the Barbers moved to your building every old bitty in the place was buzzing with excitement. You had loosely followed Jacob Barber’s case as it played out on the evening news. The whole thing was bizarrely too neat and tidy for your liking. You tried to stay out of idle gossip as much as possible. But, when you heard Andy Barber was interviewing for a senior position at your firm, you had questions.

Andy was brought in to interview for a position that you were also interested in. You requested a meeting with your boss and you went in guns blazing. Your poor boss was not ready for all the excitement.

“Am I still being considered for junior partner?”

“Y/n, calm down.” When he saw you winding yourself up, he popped an antacid an a few ibuprofen.

“Calm down? Calm down he says. I’ve been with this firm since I clerked for you in Law school, Stan. I’m the best fit for this role and you know it.”

“I know you are, kid. I’ve been out voted.”

It’s common knowledge that the partners don’t want too many women gunning for their jobs. They already have one token female partner. They didn’t feel the need to add another. You were infuriated. You stomped back to your office and slammed the door.

All of the work you put in. All of the late nights. You don’t have time to even date. And all for what? You had to calm down now because you were starting to cry out of sheer frustration. You took a deep breath and started going through your to do list. With a relatively light schedule you decided to leave for the day. You mumbled something to your assistant about a doctors appointment and headed for the elevator.

You saw some of the senior partners headed your way shaking hands with Andy. You pressed the elevator button furiously trying to avoid them. Could you make it down seventeen flights of stairs in your stilettos? The elevator dinged and you jumped on just as Robert called your name.

As soon as you put your car in gear, your assistant called. You sent her to voicemail. She called again. Declined. Finally she texted call me back ASAP. Emergency. Fuck.

“Caitlan I said I had an appointment. What’s the emergency?”

“Sorry. Mr. Cramer insisted I call. He’s standing by my desk” she whispered. “They want you to have lunch with them today. Maybe it’s about the job.”

“Did you see guy shaking hands with them? That’s the new junior partner. They are asking me to lunch to reject me. Fuck! Where?” You rested your head against the steering wheel.

“Commander’s at 1:00.”

“Fine.” you groaned.

You went home to freshen up and send out your updated resume. You made sure to include “Willing to relocate” at the end to broaden your prospects. You had a friend in Chicago who worked for a very high profile firm. They were always looking for new blood. You shot her a text to let her know you were looking then emailed your resume. The prospect of starting over completely made you nauseous. You would have to go through the ranks and probably waist another five years to get exactly where you were right now.

When you arrived at the restaurant the maître d brought you to the table where Stan, several other senior partners and Andy were waiting. Andy stood up to pull out your chair.

“Gentleman. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Sit down, Y/N. We wanted to introduce you to Andrew Barber.”

“Andy. Please call me Andy. It’s very nice to meet you, Y/N. These guys haven’t stopped talking about you all morning.”

“All good things I hope.” The men laughed and ordered a round of martinis. Good thing you ate a big lunch at home. No one likes a sloppy drunk girl.

“Yes. Well, Y/N, as you may not know Andy has accepted the junior partner position. We would love if you brought him up to speed on anything you’re working on and show him the ropes.”

You were seething. “Of course Mr. Cramer. Happy to.”

“Oh. Good. Let’s order huh? I’m starving.”

You were silent for the rest of lunch ordering two more martinis very dry and a salad. Dressing on the side of course. The men spoke loudly and never even tried to include you in the conversation. You excused yourself to use the restroom. Andy, ever the gentleman, stood up at the same time.

You didn’t go back. Not that it would have mattered. You ordered an Uber and checked your email. You didn’t notice Andy at the valet stand.

“I’m headed back to the office. Need a ride?” he called to you.

“No. I’m good. Thanks though.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind.” He watched you pace back and forth reading a message almost out loud.

You didn’t look up from your phone. “Shit.” You scowled looking at the screen. You dialed Caitlan’s extension. “Caitlan, Sloan Treadaway’s deposition was moved to today. I need it pushed to Monday.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I figured you would be coming back so I told them it was ok to push it up. I can call them back.”

“No. Don’t bother. I’m on my way back.”

“Looks like you can use a ride after all.” Andy was grinning from ear to ear.

He held the door and rushed around to the other side. You pulled a small bag out of your purse. You freshened your hair, popped some breath mints, lotioned and spritzed away the smell of booze. Andy thought this must be commonplace for you. It’s not easy trying to run with the guys. He could walk into this deposition piss drunk and most people wouldn’t care. You had to be perfect. He always hated that aspect of working in a big firm like this.

“Sorry. I’ll pay to have your car cleaned.” It smelled like you now. Expensive perfume and minty breath. Sweet but not sickly so. He inhaled letting his nostrils flair breathing you in. “Don’t want your wife to be pissed.”

“Lori? Don’t worry about her. She’ll understand.”

“How is she doing with her job search?”

“Doing ok. Thanks for asking. She’s interviewed with a few places.”

“She worked for a non profit right?” When he looked at you quizzically, you quickly explained yourself. “I hear things. Anyway. I know the director of a non profit organization that might be a great fit for her. I’ll pass along her information.”

“Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate it. Stan told me you were the front runner for this position. I know how hard it is for women in this industry. I want to say how sorry I am…”

“Let me stop you there. First of all, don’t be sorry. You’re high profile and a damn good litigator. They would be stupid not to offer you the moon. You’re over qualified for this job. You didn’t come here gunning for me. I’ll be fine. Besides, a few of these old bags have one foot in the grave. It won’t be long for me.”

Andy smiled at you but still kind of felt like shit at the way the firm treated you. When you pulled into the garage you offered a quick thanks and rushed into the building to prepare.

Andy stayed behind for a bit. He spent a few precious moments breathing in your scent, letting it linger and wash over him. He hoped his clothes would smell a little like you. Stan said you were a “fire cracker”. Andy always hated that analogy. He knew by the way the group of men talked about you that he would like you. Your quick banter in the car confirmed it. Throughout the rest of the day you would invade his thoughts. He and Lori were still married but their relationship was long over. You had excited him more in a couple of hours than she had in years. When he got home he didn’t eat dinner or speak to anyone. He went right to his room where he replayed your exchange over and over. The ghost of your perfume lingered on his shirt. Both of your scents mixed together gave him a raging hard on. He kept your shirt over his face while he fisted his cock.

——————————————————————

The next morning you decided to face the day with a fresher attitude. Sometime yesterday you heard from your friend. She was thrilled that you reached out to her. She has been trying to get you out there for a while. Knowing that you had a solid backup plan was giving your hair volume and clearing your skin.

You thought you were early but Andy was already in your office waiting for you.

“Morning, Mr. Barber.” God he loved how you said that.

He scoffed, “Andy. Please. I brought you a coffee. I hope it’s ok. I got your order from Caitlan. I thought we’d order in lunch today. We have a lot of ground to cover. You should probably let your family know you’ll be missing dinner.”

“I don’t think my dead ficus will worry too much.” Your tone was dry.

“I apologize for the assumption.”

“Not necessary. Though my mother and my therapist would both be pleased to know that I look like someone who could have a family.”

You were funny. You seemed to say whatever thought popped into your head. You had one hell of a poker face though. He didn’t know if you were trying to be funny or if this was just you. When you didn’t look up from your computer screen he didn’t laugh.

As the day wore on you warmed up to him a little. You filled him in on the three big cases you were working on. You were actually going to trial on a very important case soon. He insisted you rehearse your opening statement a hundred times.

During the third run through Andy’s phone was blowing up. He finally turned it off and told you to keep going. He watched you pace around the room and coached you on your stance. “Stand with authority not arrogance.” He chided. He showed you himself then, asked if he could touch your shoulders. “Round them out like this. Good. Back straight. See?” he pointed to your reflection in the window, “It’s not menacing or arrogant. But you look like you’re in charge. You look perfect.” Hell. Was he flirting with you? By the time you looked at the clock it was 9:30.

“Fuck is that the time?” he said with a boisterous yawn.

“Shit. We should pick this up tomorrow.”

“Let’s go get a drink. I’m buying.”

You quirked your eyebrow, “I’m sure your wife and kiddo are dying to see you.”

He stacked some folders neatly on your desk and looked up at you through his lashes, “I’ll be sure to tell my therapist that I look like a guy who has a happy marriage and a good relationship with his kid.”

Your cheeks heated. The way he was looking at you made you sad but it also warmed your insides. “I’m sorry.” you mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it. We said we would stay together until Jacob went away to school. He pretends to ignore the fact that we have separate bedrooms. We put on happy faces everyday. We’re a typical American family.”

You laughed at his admission. His whole story was so fucked up. You wanted to know everything about him. “You know, I think I will let you buy me a drink.”

“Good girl.” he said in a low voice that went strait to your core. The whole way to the car you repeated a mantra in your head reminding you not to get involved with a married man. It didn’t matter how unhappy they were. But you wanted him. Every time he touched you, your insides would quake.

The bar was packed with regulars from the DA’s office and other firms. You introduced Andy around. The guy was a legitimate pro. He was so smooth working the room. The whole time he kept finding small ways to touch you. The brush of his fingers on your arm his breath against your ear when he asked if wanted another drink. Your heart nearly stopped. You stuck with him for a while until your feet couldn’t stand anymore. Every time he caught your eye from across the room he winked at you.

For the first time in a long time Andy was enjoying himself. Your friends were fun and not at all stuffy like he thought this crowd would be. You were adorable. Your laugh was cute. The way you brushed against him on purpose was cute. You were openly flirting with him the more you drank. He had a massive crush on you. What grown man has a crush these days. He thought maybe if he fucked you and got it out of his system he’d get over it.

Your friend Liz sat down at your table trying to talk to you for a solid minute before you noticed. “Sorry. I was distracted. What were you saying?” She threw her head back laughing at you.

“I said you two would make a gorgeous couple.”

“Stop. He’s married.”

“Happily?”

“That doesn’t matter. Married is married.”

“So that’s a no. He’s been eye fucking you all night. Shoot your shot, darling. We get so few in this life.” The light hit his wedding ring just right making you feel horrible for even entertaining the thought. Do not get involved. You kept chanting it in your head over and over until Andy slid in the booth next to you. He leaned over so he could talk over the din of the crowd.

“Hey, you. Wanna get out of here?”

“You don’t need to bring me home, Andy. I can catch an Uber.” That was such a ridiculous statement since you lived in the same building.

“That’s not what I asked. I said do you wanna get out of here?” His eyes were fixed on your mouth. A salacious grin splayed across his lips just knowing you’d give in.

“Andy. I….” You stuttered over your words. Your brain stopped working when you felt his warm breath on the shell of your ear. “Let’s get out of here.” Your breath hitched in your chest when he touched the small of your back. He payed his tab and lead you out of the bar.

You held hands in the car. His thumb rhythmically traced patterns on your knuckles. Every touch sent bolts of arousal to your aching cunt. It felt electric. You were ready to crawl into his lap by the time you made it into the garage. He parked in his spot and followed behind you to the elevator. You lived two floors below him. You glanced back at Lori’s sensible suv next to his car and felt embarrassed. He caught you looking and stopped you in your tracks. He took your chin in between his thumb and index finger forcing you to look at him.

“I understand if you don’t want to invite me in. I’m asking a lot of you. But I really like you, Y/N. You are funny and intimidatingly smart. And, fuck me, you are fucking stunning. I can go to work tomorrow like nothing happened. Don’t worry about Lori. Worry about what this means working together. Can you handle this?”

Your brain was no longer working and deferred to your pussy for any and all further decisions. You had not had even mediocre sex in six months. You just knew Andy was going to blow your mind. All day you have been working together so well. You challenged each other and he encouraged you when you faltered. Would this change the dynamic at work? Absolutely. Could you handle it? You’re damn right you could.

“I can handle it.”

“Good girl.” You all but sprinted to the elevator. He wouldn’t touch you until you actually got inside of your apartment and closed the door. When you did, he pushed against you and covered your lips with his.

You tasted the golden flavor of beer on his tongue as it probed your mouth. He unbuttoned your blouse and pushed it over your shoulders letting it hit the floor. He kissed his way down the column of your neck to the swell of your breasts. You panted underneath him raking your nails through his hair.

“God you smell incredible. At any point if you don’t want this….”

“Andy, shut up and fuck me.” He growled low in his throat before he picked you up and carried you to your bedroom. You could see how hard he was through his impeccably tailored slacks. You unzipped his fly and took the whole throbbing appendage in your mouth.

“Fuck, baby yes.” he hissed. You relaxed your throat muscles and swallowed him deeper. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” He moaned your name over and over soaking your panties. “Stop, honey. Let me see that pretty pussy.”

He eased you down onto the bed and undressed you painfully slow. It had been so long since he was intimate with someone, he wanted to take his time. He started with your feet removing your heels and massaging your insteps. His hands ran up the length of your legs to your skirt. He took off your panties first letting the skirt material pool around your waist. “So wet for me. So beautiful.” He slipped two fingers in between your folds hitting everywhere but your clit. He built up a tortuous rhythm that had you begging for relief. He smiled down at you watching completely fall apart. When he dipped his fingers inside of you, you were done. Your orgasm spilled out in one glorious cry. Before you could catch your breath he pulled off your skirt and unhooked your bra. His cock was weeping at the sight of you. A large hand held the back of your neck holding your head in place so you could look at him. Your eyes locked as he buried himself inside of you. There were no more words as he moved inside of you. Only breathless moans and sighs would escape your lips. He increased his pace and your orgasm started building again.

“Fuck. Andy, I’m….fuck!”

“I’m with you, honey. Come with me.” His words were your undoing. You latched your whole body onto him. He held you tight whispering praises in your ear. He kissed you slow and deep easing you back down to Earth. “You ok?”

“I think so.” You both laughed at the sight of yourselves. Sweat glistening off of your skin, lips puffy and kiss swollen. He eased off of you and rubbed your thighs to relax you. You thought he would get dressed and rush out but he crawled under the covers instead.

“Can I stay for a while?” Big arms pulled you down to his chest. He stroked your back softly to help you drift off to sleep.

“I’d like it if you did.” He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and let his eyes flutter closed.

When dawn found you a few hours later, you were still tangled with each other. You jolted awake panicking because Andy was still in your bed. “Andy, wake up. You stayed all night.”

“I know. What time is it?”

“6:45.”

“Then we have time. Go back to sleep.”

“But Lori…”

“I told you not to worry about her. Get back on this pillow and let me hold you. Please.” The poor guy was so touch starved you guessed. Andy Barber was not a man who did well being single. He loved being in love. He longed for a connection. For passion. He knew those things would sometimes fizzle out of a marriage. But, with you, he couldn’t see that. Your fire matched his fire and Lori was the wet blanket that always snuffed him out.

He supposed that wasn’t really fair. Two people were in their marriage. He worked long hours and spent very little time doing anything but being an ADA and being a dad. He didn’t give the same dedication to being Lori’s partner. The stress of this past year pushed them further apart. He felt obligated to be with her. It was his idea to stay together for Jacob’s sake. He regretted pushing for it.

He pulled you close to his body and wrapped an arm around your waist. He nuzzled your hair and fell back to sleep. You did too.

#andy barber #andy barber x y/n #andy barber smut #defending jacob

80 notes · View notes

lori0018 · 2 years

Text

Memento Mori, Memento Vivere

Master Post

Prologue

Chapter 1 - Into the Lion’s Den

Chapter 2 - Surviving the Mood Swings of Your Mafia Boss

Chapter 3 - Wilderness Trip Down Memory Lane

Chapter 4 - Side Quest

Chapter 5 - How to Date Your Mafia Boss

Chapter 6 - Of Plans Made and Changed

Chapter 7 - Who Do You Trust?

Chapter 8 - Making It Official

Chapter 9 - No More Secrets

Chapter 10 - Wrapping It All Up

#kinnporsche #kinnporche the series #fanfic #lori writes #lori tries to stay organized #porsche kittisawat #kinn x porsche #porsche-centric #canon rewrite #fix-it fic #tw violence #tw minor character death #tw child abuse #all 3 tw are basically the same as in the show #minor kimchay #minor vegaspete #masterpost #tw for sex under the influence in chapter 2

3 notes · View notes

juletheghoul · 3 years

Text

Mysticus Chapter 2

Ezra x F!Reader Soulmates AU

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: Nothing yet - maybe language (Smut later on)

Masterlist Chapter 3

Later that night you realize that after your mystery patron left, you made your way back to the shitty motel you were staying at seemingly in a daze. Almost as if you were on autopilot.

Laying in bed having showered and locked up everything tightly, you stared at your dog curiously. She didn’t seem much different than she usually did.

“What the hell was that about huh? Did you turn into a teddy bear all of a sudden?” you often spoke to her as if she’d respond. You supposed that in some ways she usually did, or at least you felt as though she did. She looked at you without lifting her head, the barest hint of acknowledgment.

“Excuse me ma’am, I’m speaking to you.” You stared at her – she looked away and let out a heavy sigh. Wow. Rude. Maybe he smelled like someone familiar? Either way its lucky she didn’t bite or growl at him, relieved that you didn’t have to deal with that fall out.

You stared at the little mark in your palm with the little sliver of light that cut through the darkness of the sad little room you both had been staying in for the past week and thought about it’s twin on the man at the carnival. His voice in the back of your mind as you pictured his face. The smile that made your heart beat faster, those deep brown eyes that crinkled giving you that smile. The feel of his lips on the back of your hand, you could almost feel it as you drifted off to sleep.

The same sliver of light woke you the next morning, and not in the best of moods. You had a vague sense of nightmares but nothing concrete, a couple of minutes later you couldn’t even remember. The feeling however didn’t go away, and it followed you like a cloud throughout the day. After taking the dog out to handle her business and grabbing yourself some breakfast you sat in the bed and upturned your earnings to see what you were working with.

“Okay, so we have $115 from the carnival along with the little bit we still have for emergencies. Which means we’re at a grand total of $637.53. That’s not too bad huh?” the dog gave a little huff.

“One more day at the carnival wouldn’t hurt – lets see if we can make it an even $700. Don’t look at me like that, it’s got nothing to do with that guy he probably forgot what he said. I doubt we’ll ever see him again.” You weren’t sure who you were trying to convince. The dog was ever silent and you gave her a little frown but put your money away anyway.

You decided that no matter what happened at the carnival, this was your last night in this town. It felt as though you’d stayed there too long already. To harden your resolve, you checked out of the motel early and packed up everything you owned - double and triple checking that you didn’t miss anything - into the back of your jeep. You used the rest of the day to restock everything you needed for your life on the road – snacks, extra gas for the long stretches of road between gas stations, dog food & snacks for your girl, as well as basic toiletries that had been used up or were running dangerously low. Everything went into the back of the jeep where you had your life neatly organized. Feeling better about your provisions, you made your way over to the carnival.

It was a slow night. Not as many customers as you would have hoped for and the cloud over your head felt as though it was getting heavier, full to bursting with rain and hail, thunder and lightning. The feeling that seemed like a vague suggestion of a bad dream, now sat heavy and low in the pit of your stomach like a brick. You tried to shake it off but the slightest movement had you whipping your head around, any normal carnival noise had you jumping and it wasn’t just you. The dog’s ears kept prickling like she too was on the lookout. Even the smells of carnival, which normally were the only thing you liked about it – were making you queasy. Donuts and funnel cakes, cotton candy and roasted nuts, things you usually liked now were cloying and were threatening to make you gag.

You felt him before you actually saw him and when your eyes locked and he gave you that secret smile, it felt as though the wind got knocked out of you.

He sat down opposite you and you stared at each other for a few minutes in silence. You mapped out the lines of his face unabashedly while he did the same. You noticed the scar on his cheek that you’d somehow missed the night before and again that wild urge to reach out and touch him struck you again.

“Good evening Birdie, I cannot put into words the euphoria I feel in seeing you again.”

“Do you always speak like that?” you blurted out, as your eyes widened and the colour rose high in your cheeks.

“Do you find it bothersome?” he asked seemingly unphased, you’re guessing you probably aren’t the first person to ask him.

“No.” You certainly didn’t speak in such flowery prose but then again, you travelled alone with a dog so your conversations were very one-sided.

“I found myself contemplating how a petal as exquisite as yourself found herself providing your services in this barren no-name town. I suspect you’re not a local?”

“Nope, just passing through.” You ignored the compliment.

“As I suspected. As am I petal. I don’t suppose you’d be agreeable to coming to a little arrangement? I’m looking for transport out of this place and as romantic as the thought of purchasing a bus ticket and driving off into the sunset with strangers on all sides is, I’d rather travel with someone as lovely as yourself to look at.” You gawked at him. “I realize that we do not know each other but I assure you petal I am as harmless as a newborn kitten.” Yeah. Right. You weren’t afraid of this man in any way, you couldn’t explain why but there was something in the pit of your stomach that told you he was safe. Were you actually considering this??

“You want me to give you a ride? You don’t even know where I’m going, and how do you know I’m harmless?” You crossed your arms over your chest to hide the frantic beating of your heart, as if he could somehow see it.

“Call it intuition. What do you say? Are you agreeable?” He reached out his hand to shake on your agreement. You stared at his hand momentarily when a thought struck you.

“What do you say girl, should we pick up a stray?” You looked over at your dog. She stood up and walked over to him – he smiled and pet her behind the ear and she licked his hand again. That settled it.

“Agreed.” You both shook on it.

It was only as you both walked over to your jeep that you realized you’d never asked him his name.

At first it was a little strange having someone other than the dog in the Jeep, but he volunteered to drive and you couldn’t help but admit that it was nice. It was nice to be in the passengers seat with the window open, sun shining on your face, wind blowing through your hair and the steady hum of his voice lulling you into a state of relaxation you haven’t felt since god knows when. That was another thing that was strange. Conversation. You spoke to the dog often but she didn’t respond. Not verbally anyway. You both made your way through each town, deciding off the cuff whether or not you wanted to stay or keep going. It was also very nice having him pitching in with gas money. The first time you pulled into a gas station he was out of the car before you could fully comprehend what he was doing, filling up your tank and walking in to pay without so much as a word. As he got in and dropped a bottle of water in your lap he gave you one of those smiles that made your heart skip a beat, and noticing the look of confusion on your face he laughed lightly.

“I figure if you’re courteous enough to allow me to accompany you in your cross-country travel, the very least I can do is contribute with the cost of fuel. Now I have purchased some water for you because you have to stay hydrated, especially in this heat and I’m guessing the little lady riding in the back might also be a little thirsty. What do you say girl, do you need to go about your business?” the dog perked her ears up as he grabbed her leash to lead her outside.

You were left speechless, but glad you didn’t have to have the awkward conversation when you eventually did run out of gas money. That was another thing that seriously weirded you out. He spoke to your dog as if he’d known her forever – no fear – no hesitation and while for other dogs that was usually fine, you knew for a fact that your dog was most decidedly not open to new people. Except him it seemed. You watched as he led her near the trees while she relieved herself and trotted back happily for a drink of water. Any part of you which held a little bit of regret at readily accepting him joining you was gone in that moment.

--------

Tag List: @foli-vora @frannyzooey @freak-nasty-thick-dick-mando @marydjarin @thirstworldproblemss @cannedsoupsucks @ilikechocolatemilkh @lori-tovar

#ezra x reader #ezra x you #ezra x female reader #soulmates au #prospect ezra #ezra from prospect #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #ezra (prospect)#ezra (prospect) x reader #ezra (prospect) x you #prospect fic #prospect #ezra (prospect) x f!reader #pedro pascal x reader

90 notes · View notes

mercerislandbooks · 3 years

Text

Swoony Reads for Your TBR

When a customer comes through the door looking for a recommendation, we are often asked for a book that is an escape. This can mean different things to different readers, but for some of us, myself included, one genre that reliably provides an escape is romance. Saturday August 21st is Bookstore Romance Day and in honor of celebrating romance authors, with their happy endings, witty dialogue, and love in all its forms, several of the Island Books staff are offering their personal recommendations of romances they’ve loved!

Act Your Age, Eve Brown by Talia Hibbert

Recommended by Lillian

I am not in the mood for surprises. I haven't been for several years, but I'm really not in the mood these days. I want to know how things will go, but I also don't want to be bored. That's a tough combination. Enter - the well-written, romance novel. I'll tell you right now that the two main characters will be together in the end. I haven't even told you which book I'm recommending, but I still promise you a happy ending. It's an added bonus if the book makes me laugh. All of these things (happy ending, lack of boringness, and humor) are fully present in Talia Hibbert's trilogy about the Brown sisters. The most recent follows the youngest sibling as she tries to find a job and a purpose while muddling her way through cooking at a bed and breakfast. Never mind that she has never been a professional cook before or that the B&B owner values stability and professionalism and she is the opposite of those things. She's out to prove that she can be responsible. He's in need of a chef. And they have chemistry - oodles of it. Like the main characters in Hibbert's other books, Eve and Jacob are not cardboard cut-outs of Romance Novel Protagonists that shuffle through a lame meet-cute, make a few bad choices, then kiss and get married. Jacob is on the autism spectrum and Eve is, well, Eve isn't quite sure what she is. They face personal challenges but, eventually find a way make a relationship work. Of course they do! I promised you that in the beginning. Full of laughs, soul-searching, butterflies in stomachs, and steamy (quite steamy) romance, I highly recommend any of the three if you're in the mood.

Get a Life, Chloe Brown (The Brown Sisters Book #1)

Take a Hint, Dani Brown (The Brown Sisters, Book #2)

The Switch by Beth O’Leary

Recommended by Becca

A little bit of steam, a little bit of hijinks, and a lot of fun.

When Leena Cotton is forced to take a two-month sabbatical from her high-pressure city job after a breakdown during an important presentation, she decides to swap places with her recently divorced grandmother, Eileen. Leena relocates to Eileen’s small cottage in a tiny Yorkshire village for some long overdue rest, relaxation, and self-reflection; meanwhile, Eileen moves into Leena’s big city apartment to expand her dating pool and to get a second chance at the London adventure she’d always dreamed of, but never got to have. However, trendy flatmates, nosy neighbors, and family drama all make walking a mile in one another’s shoes more difficult than either of them would have supposed.

This feel-good book highlights the importance of family, friends, and community, while also showing that love and second chances abound. O’Leary’s warmth and wit drew me in from the very beginning. The romance is sweet and a little spicy, while the focus is on Eileen’s and Leena’s growth as they overcome both the emotional and physical obstacles between them and the people they care about. This is a book with characters you want to cheer on and celebrate with, a book to linger in and savor every word.

Other recommendations:

The Flatshare and The Road Trip by Beth O’Leary (a little steamy and a decent amount of steam, respectively)

The Lady and the Highwayman by Sarah M. Eden (historical, little to no steam)

Edenbrooke by Julianne Donaldson (historical, little to no steam but excellent romantic tension)

The Layover by Lacie Waldon

Recommended by Lori

This recent favorite of mine is a debut from flight attendant Lacie Waldon - about flight attendant Ava Greene and her last trip before settling down with her ambitious fiancée. Ava thinks she’s managed to finagle the perfect ending to her career in the air when she scores a 24-hour layover in Belize. And even though things don’t get off to the best start when she finds out that the irritating (and handsome) Jack Stone is part of the flight crew, Ava is still determined to enjoy herself. But when mechanical troubles ground their flight in Belize for the weekend and Ava and Jack reluctantly join forces to matchmake for their co workers, Ava starts to rethink her opinion of Jack. Even if she has been holding a grudge against him for years.

I’ve always loved novels that pull the curtain back, taking me behind the scenes to what it’s really like for a profession. Since the author is herself a flight attendant I was fascinated by all the details she included, from the way that Ava packs her suitcase and organizes her hotel room during their stay in Portland, to the idiosyncrasies of working with different crews from flight to flight, and the quirks of the people on her flights. Even more, I loved the hilarious banter between Ava and Jack as they work together, and fight together, and get stuck in some “interesting” situations together. I’ve noticed that a lot of what draws me into a romance novel (besides the romance) is clever and witty dialogue. For many of them, it feels like the authors give themselves permission to be playful with their characters, and that allows me, as the reader, to have just as good a time reading it. I definitely notice when a book makes me laugh out loud. If your idea of escape is a book that takes you on a vicarious vacation while constantly making you laugh, pick this one up!

We have many fantastic romances on our shelves. If you want more suggestions, be sure to ask one of us what we’re reading. It’s a good bet there’s a romance in the mix.

-- Lori

#island books #lori robinson #romance #bookstoreromanceday #talia hibbert #act your age eve brown #beth o'leary #the switch #the layover #lacie waldon

10 notes · View notes

walkerwords · 4 years

Text

“The Savior Sessions” Part 1 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: Gene Page/AMC

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: This will be a collection of conversations set before the events of season 9 in which the reader speaks with Negan while in his cell as they recount events and memories from their time in the Apocalypse as well as stories of his own.

Word Count: 2417

Warning: None

Song I Wrote To: “Open Season” by Josef Salvat

Note: These are going to be smaller stories that I will be updating randomly. Each fic will be a conversation/situation about Negan in his cell in Alexandria. Some maybe very short, others not. I am still working on the other stories, but I wanted to post this as I work on those as well. Thank you for your kind words about my family, I really appreciate it.

------

“I just don’t know why you’re asking me to do this, Michonne.”

You stood across from Alexandria’s head of security in her kitchen. Michonne meticulously cleaned her Katana as you spoke, remaining calm the entire time. When she had asked you to meet her today, you never imagined this would be the reason.

“Gabriel is worried about his state of mind,” Michonne said, “He thinks somebody should be speaking with him on a regular basis.”

“Isn’t that already Gabriel’s job?” you asked. “He’s always the one who’s down there.” Michonne sighed, sliding the blade back into its sheath.

“He believes that he can no longer get through to him and that they’ve become too familiar with each other,” Michonne said, placing her sword down and bracing her hands against the kitchen counter, “I also think we can benefit from it and I suppose he can as well.” You frowned.

“You’re asking me to become Negan’s therapist,” you pointed out. “How is any of that beneficial?”

“Whether we like it or not, Negan did run an entire community unchallenged. He may have insight into this world that we don’t and I have started to think that perhaps keeping him so isolated isn’t doing anyone any good,” Michonne explained. “I am asking you because you don’t have a relationship with him. The two of you never interacted during the war and you made sure to stay out of his line of sight for most of it. You’re not a total stranger, but he doesn’t know you like he knows Gabriel, me, or even Aaron.”

“So, basically, you want someone he can’t push around by pushing their buttons,” you concluded and Michonne grimaced.

“You were also a teacher, (Y/N),” said Michonne, “that is something you two have in common. Maybe that will get him to open up or at least… God, I don’t know what I want the outcome to be, but Rick wanted Negan to be a symbol for how we can grow as a society. I don’t know if he can ever be redeemed, but if he can even a small amount, then it may start with you.”

“You pulled out your Rick card,” you said with a sigh, “not fair.” Michonne smiled with a shrug.

“I knew it would come in handy someday,” she said and you finally gave in.

“Okay, I will be the big bad wolf’s confidant, but if he tries anything or pisses me off to a degree that makes me want to commit murder, that’s on Gabriel,” you said with a wink and Michonne visibly relaxed.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” she said, relieved. “I’m going to let you run it the way you want to, but try not to piss him off if you can.” You smiled at her brightly.

“Oh, you know me, Michonne, something like that is inevitable.”

-----

When you arrived at the cell an hour later, you dismissed the guard who stood out front.

If you were going to be talking to Negan to gain insight and trust, you didn’t see the need for a chaperone. As the guard left, you pushed open the heavy door and sealed it behind you.

“Gabe, if you’re here to give me another life lesson, you can save it. I’m not in the mood,” Negan said in the darkness of his cell. You had never been this close to the man before. You had fought against the Saviors of course, but always at an outpost or in a larger fight. Rick had also used your talents with the sniper rifle and kept you up high most of the time. This whole situation was alien to you and while it was unnerving to be so near to a killer, you didn’t let that stop you from stepping out of the shadows.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not Father Gabriel,” you said, dragging a chair from the wall and centering it before the jail cell. Negan, who had been laying on his bed with his back to the door, slowly sat up and turned towards you.

In the cool light of the room, you could see him clearly now. His hair was shorter than the last time you had seen him which was when Rick had dragged him into this cell about five years before. He still had the stubble on his face, but the cocky grin that you had gotten used to seeing through your scope was nowhere to be seen.

“Have we met?” he asked, tilting his head in curiosity. You shifted slightly in your seat, trying to get comfortable.

“Not officially,” you told him. “I’m (Y/N).” Recognition dawned on his face then.

“Yes,” he said, sitting forward on the edge of his cot, “Little Miss Grimes has mentioned you before.” It wasn’t news to you that he spoke to Judith. Most people knew that she visited Negan often. The only person who probably didn’t know was Michonne. Judith had confided in you that she wasn’t scared of the man and that all she wanted was for him to know he wasn’t some kind of wild animal. You now started to realize that her reasoning was exactly why you were here. “So what can I do for you, (Y/N)?”

“I’ve been sent by the overlords of Alexandria to be your new best friend,” you explained, crossing one leg over the other.

“Is that right?” he asked, leaning forward. “Gabe get too bored with little ole me?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t ask,” you told him, “but I am here as a favor for Michonne so how about we just accept the new normal?” Negan bowed his head slightly.

“Well then, what exactly do the big shots upstairs want us to do? Compare breakup stories? Organize a block party?”

“I see you haven’t lost your wit,” you pointed out, leaning back in your chair.

“We all have our things, (Y/N),” he said, “I am curious, though,” he went on, “where were you when your people were trying to kill all of mine?”

“Usually on a rooftop,” you explained, “Grimes always had me up high with the guns.” Negan seemed genuinely thrilled by the thought of that.

“And you never got me in your cross-hairs and took a shot? Damn, that is incredibly terrifying.”

“I was never ordered to,” you told him. “I was more surveillance than an assassin.”

“Either way, my men never saw you watchin’ me,” he said and it sounded like a compliment. The way Negan was looking at you reminded you of kids staring at a lion in a zoo. Ironic seeing how he was the one in the cage and not you. Every glance was out of curiosity and you thought you noticed a bit of gratitude in his eyes. Perhaps Michonne and Gabriel were right after all. The man just needed someone to talk to.

“Okay, how about this?” you said, after a moment of silence. He waited for you to continue. “You and I are just gonna talk. You can ask me anything you want and I’ll answer and hopefully, you will return the favor when I want to .” Negan raised a single brow.

“It’s that simple?” he asked.

“Do you want it to be difficult?” you asked. “I think I could add some really brash and annoying terms to the arrangement if you want."

"You are a very strange person," Negan said.

"I'm going to take that as a compliment."

"As you should," Negan said with a cheeky grin. "However, I am curious about one thing. Don't you hate me?" You mulled over his words for a few seconds before shaking your head.

"Hate, it has caused a lot of problems in this world, but has not solved one yet," you quoted easily. Negan's eyes lit up.

"Morrison?"

"Angelou," you corrected.

"Ah," he said. "Wise woman. So what you're saying is that hating me isn't going to solve anything, am I right?"

"Pretty much," you agreed, crossing your arms.

"But I killed your people," he reminded you. Negan was clearly trying to put you off, but you had expected this.

"And I killed your people," you said. "Do you hate me?" Negan scoffed, leaning back on his hands as he watched you through the bars.

"You're good," he complimented.

"You didn't answer my question," you said. Negan licked his lips before shaking his head.

"No, I don't hate you. Although, I don't even know you so that could change." This time you let out a quick laugh that was pure instinct at this point.

"Fair enough," you conceded.

"Alright, (Y/N), if you are so inclined to answer questions, answer me this: how did you end up with this merry bunch of survivors?"

"Simple," you said, "I saved Carl Grimes from a Walker." Negan's face dropped at the mention of the late teenager. You knew about the soft spot Negan had for Carl. It wasn't a mystery, hell, Carl wouldn't have lived long after he attacked the Sanctuary if Negan didn't like him.

"You saved him?" Negan asked, pulling you from your memories.

"Yeah, I met Carl and his mom, Lori, shortly after everything happened," you began, "They, alongside other survivors, were camped at a quarry outside of Atlanta. I was on my own, trying to make it to the coast when I came across their campsite. I was wary of people, of course, but I knew I wouldn't make it far on my own. I stayed around the edge of camp for a while, just gettin' a feel for the people when Carl ran off when Lori wasn't looking. He was running around with another kid from the group." You paused, unsure if you should divulge much more, but Negan was staying entirely focused on your story.

"Carl was with Sophia...Carol's late daughter." Slight surprise entered Negan's eyes, but he remained quiet. You went on, "The two of them got turned around and then Carl being Carl, decided to run off alone without Sophia. He was near me when the Walker came out of the trees and grabbed him. I didn't really think at that moment. I just ran for the kid. I shot the Walker in the head and the next thing I know, I had a crossbow pointed at my back."

"Let me guess, Daryl?" Negan figured.

"Damn right. Son of a bitch thought I was shooting at the kid, but luckily Carl spoke up and explained. They took me back to their camp and Lori insisted I stay so that's what I did."

"And here you are," Negan said, impressed.

"Here I am."

"That kid was pretty damn special," Negan said fondly. "This world really does take the good ones, don't it?"

"I always think that it would have been easier if a person had killed him instead of a Walker, you know? At least then we would have an enemy."

"What, you don't think the Walkers are the enemy?"

"They're just a part of the new world," you explained. "Can't really call them an enemy if they didn't intend to be here in the first place."

Negan was quiet again as your words sank in. In fact, you were surprised that he hadn't spoken over you whenever he got the chance. According to the rest of your friends and family, the man loved to hear himself talk. You stored that new observation away for later.

"In your opinion," Negan said slowly, "what kind of person classifies as an enemy, or rather, just evil?"

"I've seen darkness, Negan," you told him. "We all have and it was before we even heard your name. If you're trying to ask me if I think you’re evil, the answer is no, I don't. Most of us here like myself, Daryl, Michonne, we've all seen what happens when someone has lost all trace of humanity. Seen what they do to other human beings and trust me, those are the evil people of this screwed-up world. You haven't lost your humanity, Negan, and I pray you never will."

Negan leaned his forearms onto his knees, rubbing a calloused hand over his bearded face. Something had clicked inside his head, that much was apparent, but you weren't sure what.

Yet.

"Sounds like you've been through hell," Negan whispered.

"And back," you finished. "Multiple times."

"You gonna tell me that story? About the loss of humanity?" His question wasn't overly eager, instead, it was all curiosity and you were starting to think that was the main characteristic of the man who once called himself the "big bad wolf".

"One day," you nodded. "If you'll let me come back again."

"I get to decide?" he asked, intrigued.

"Yeah, no point in coming down here if you won't talk to me. That would be wasting both of our time."

"Then by all means, (Y/N), feel free to drop by," Negan said, spreading his arms wide in a welcome gesture. You rolled your eyes but nodded.

"If it means anything," you said as you stood from your seat and turned towards the door, "Carl once told me that you were the only person he always trusted to tell him the truth, and coming from him, that's a lot."

Negan looked at you for a long moment before bowing his head. "Thanks for that," he said softly. You gave him a small smile, one more out of understanding than anything. Whether people hated him or not, nobody could deny that he cared about Carl Grimes and that the teen's death had affected him as well.

"I'll see you tomorrow," you told him as you pushed open the heavy door and stepped into the sunlight. Negan didn't call you back as you climbed the steps and began walking home.

You watched as Alexandria spun on, unaware of the emotions that ran deep through you at the moment. Gabriel and Michonne had been right, after all, Negan needed to talk to another human being, but perhaps that was exactly what you needed as well and you had a feeling this was just the beginning of an odd relationship.

TAGS: @thanossexual

#the walking dead #twd imagines #twd imagine #negan imagine #negan #negan x reader #reader insert #daryl dixon x reader #y/n #negan x y/n #the walking dead imagine #TWD fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #walkerwords

289 notes · View notes

rrickgrrimes8 · 4 years

Text

Normality is Death

Chapter Twelve ~ TS-19

masterlist

The next morning, Rick woke up, his eyes catching the bright lights of the room, which immediately blinded him. As he tried to hide away from them with a blanket, he soon realised that his head was banging profusely, which just added to his problems. Bravely, Rick lifted his head out of the blanket attempting to power through the pain, only to see the emptiness of the room. Right away he felt a surge of panic force through him but settled realise that they were, in fact, safe and protected by the C.D.C. Rick sat up grabbing the clothes he'd left lying around, still somewhat fearful that he wasn't with his family.

Jacey watched from the table they had all sat on the night before as her father shyly walked into the busy room.

"Hello," he addressed them all, really feeling the effects of his hangover.

"Morning," Dale cheerily greeted making some of the adults groan.

Jacey laughed at them before returning her gaze to her father, "Morning dad."

"Morning, princess," He gladly returned, scruffling her hair and taking the seat next to her.

"Are you hungover? Mom said you would be," Carl giggled.

Rick sighed, taking a sip of water, "Mom is right."

"Mom has that annoying habit," Lori stated as a matter of fact.

Rick looked down at the table to the bottle of aspirin, only slightly paying attention to Glenn and T-dog's conversation, "Where'd these come from?"

"Jenner," Lori answered.

"Could you help me, please?" Rick sweetly requested from his wife after attempting to open it a few times. Lori did as he asked, opening the bottle easily, surprising Rick, which caused Jacey and Carl to laugh.

"Your back still hurting?" Rick said to his daughter, which she nodded to, remembering how the pain had surfaced this morning more brutal than the day earlier.

"What's wrong with your back, Jace?" Lori looked to her daughter, who just shrugged, not wanting to get into it.

Rick took another pill out of the bottle for Jacey, passing it over to her, swallowing it immediately, "Thanks, dad."

Soon after Shane walked in, much like Rick just had, grabbing the coffee pot and a cup, "Hey."

"Hey, you feel as bad as I do?" the officer queried.

"Worse," Shane now sat at the table, next to Jacey, which was another empty space. Lori visually tensed at his presence which no one seemed to notice except Jacey.

T-dog walked past the group dishing out the eggs to different people and instantly noticed the scratches Lori left that littered Shane's face and neck. "What the hell happened to you? To your neck?" T-dog exclaimed.

Shane did his best to make a puzzled face and looked around, "must've done it in my sleep."

"Never seen you do that before," Rick appended, still unaware of the situation between his best friend and his wife.

"Me neither," he started before bitterly looking at Lori, "Not like me at all."

Jacey watched as her mother's attention shot down to the food, ignoring Shane. She wondered what he could've done to make her mother so uncomfortable but reminisced on how Lori had said that Shane had upset her the night before.

Jacey had also yet to say anything about what had happened the night before in the bathroom. She didn't exactly know what they could do to help if she was honest. It wasn't like therapy was an option anymore, and besides being honest about her hallucinations would just add to the stress of the group. How would she even say it? She felt as if she couldn't just tell the whole group that she saw her dead friend last night and watched as he reenacted his final moments. It would sound crazy - well, it is crazy, she told herself.

When Jacey looked up from her plate, she realised the extra presence in the room of their new acquaintance, Doctor Jenner. He walked in, wearing the same clothes he did the day before smiling softly. Shane and the man exchanged pleasantries as he sat down with the rest of us, tucking into the eggs that T-dog made.

"Doctor, I don't mean to slam you with questions first thing-," Dale began before Jenner cut him off, "But you will anyway."

"We didn't come here for the eggs," Andrea deadpanned.

Leading us all over to the main room, Jenner looked at us all and said to VI, "Give me a playback of TS-19." VI did as he asked, projecting a mess of data or rather that's what Jacey saw it as. Seconds later, the image on the screen changed to one of a brain accompanied with an abundance of information and a large timer filling the bottom of the screen, "Few people ever got a chance to see this, very few."

Staying close to his sister and parents, Carl asked, "Is that a brain?"

"A very extraordinary one," Jenner spoke softly to the young child, "Not that it matters in the end. Take us in for E.I.V."

"Enhanced internal view," VI repeated, processing the request. The display shifted into a view from the side, everyone watched mesmerised. The computer zoomed in further pinpointing a part of the screen that held a large state of colour. "What are those lights?" Shane asked the man as the picture became more detailed.

"That's a person's life," Jenner stated, Daryl looking around the group confused on what the hell was going on, "Experiences, memories, it's everything. Somewhere in all that wiring, all those ripples of light is you- the thing that makes you unique, what makes you human."

"You don't make sense ever?" Daryl leaned back on the desk behind him, annoyed.

"Those are synapses," Jenner told him, "Electric impulses in the brain that carry all messages. They determine everything a person says, does or thinks from the moment of birth to the moment of death."

"Death? That's what this is, a vigil?" Rick called out.

"Yes. Or rather the playback of a vigil," Jenner put, dejectedly.

Andrea walked forward, closer to where Jenner and Rick stood, "This person died? Who?"

"Test subject 19. Someone who was bitten and infected... and volunteered to have us record the process," the doctor said, before speaking to VI once more, "VI, scan forward to the first event." VI did this, causing the brain to zoom back out the colour that once graced the image gradually was overtaken by blackness.

"What is that?" Glenn blurted the surprise and curiosity getting the better of him.

"It invades the brain like meningitis. The adrenal glands hemorrhage, the brain goes into shut down. Then the major organs... Then death. Everything you ever were and ever will be gone." Jacey's eyes stayed glued to the screen, to the person that was tested on. What happened to them, whoever they were, was the same thing that happened to Addie, to Mitchell and to that kind old man. It threw her into a state of morbidity. They died in so much pain indirectly because of her. They had their body shut down, their brain too all because of her. Tears began to fall freely, which came as second nature to Jacey now as she didn't even bother to wipe them. Jacey continued to watch the screen ignoring the chatter amongst the group, some regarding her, which she was happy to shut out.

"The resurrection times vary wildly. We had reports of it happening in as little as three minutes," Jenner continued, looking at Jacey for a moment and then back to the screen, "The longest we heard of was eight hours. In the case of this patient, it was two hours, one minute... seven seconds."

I wonder how long it was for Addie she darkly thought.

Suddenly, the majority of the display began to change darkness branching off further, but a red streak down the base of the brain spawned.

"It restarts the brain?" Lori inquired.

"No, just the brain stem. Basically gets them up and moving." Jacey watched the back and forth between her father and the doctor discussing what happens to the person, "Dark, lifeless, dead. The frontal lobe, the neocortex, the human part - that doesn't come back. The you part. Just a shell driven by mindless instinct."

"That's the part of me that you killed," A voice said to her from her right. Jacey jumped at the sudden voice, the voice of yet another deceased. She closed her eyes, not daring to look at her.

"Go away," she whispered, trying to not draw attention to herself.

"It's funny, that's what I said, what I screamed when you got me killed. All I wanted was them to go away! For them to leave! All I wanted was to live, but you took that from me," Jacey brought her hands over her ears, "Why didn't you save me Jacey? Why weren't you there? I needed you, and you left me. You left me alone to die. Just like you did with Mitchell."

Attempting to distract herself from the booming voice, Jacey turned to the group to listen in to their conversation or even to see if they could hear her too, but Addie's voice stopped her.

"Leave me alone, please," she whimpered softly.

"God, you're so selfish, Jacey. How didn't I notice that when I was alive? First, you leave me for your family. Second, you get me killed. Third, you then kill me once more. And now when I'm here, alive, wanting to talk to you once more, you want me gone! You begged me to come back, remember? I don't want to be here. I don't want to be anywhere near you. I'm only here for you!"

"Stop ignoring me!" Addie violently slammed her hand on the desk closest to Jacey. Yet still not drawing the attention of the others. Now the girl finally looked at Addie, but it wasn't her Addie, it was the dead, monstrous version of her. The version Jacey had killed. The walker jumped to Jacey, ready to take a chunk out of her neck.

Gasping, Jacey pushed herself away from her, subsequently knocking into Daryl as she did.

"Watch it," he spat in his gruff voice.

"W-what? Y-you didn't see that?" Daryl looked at the girl confused, seeing nothing around that would warrant that sort of reaction.

"What do you mean, kid? What should I have seen?" Jacey shook her head, moving away from Daryl still panicked, "You okay?"

"M' fine. Jus' fine," She assured him, still out fo breath but glad to see no trace of Addie around.

"Dr, Jenner," Dale started, really taking Jacey out of her hallucination and back to reality, "I know this has been taxing for you and I hate to ask one more question, but that clock... it's counting down. What happens at zero?"

"The basement generators. They run out of fuel," Jenner told him.

"And then?" Her father asked, who thankfully had not seen what had just happened. Jenner ignores him and walks out of the main room, unable to meet any of their eyes. "VI, what happens when the power runs out?" Rick called to the machine.

"When the power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur," VI responded. Promptly following VI's reply many of the group, including her father, ran out.

#rick grimes #the walking dead #kaya scodelario #richard harmon #amandla stenberg #daryl dixon #glenn rhee #carl grimes #twd oc #shane walsh #lori grimes #amc the walking dead #normality is death series

23 notes · View notes