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whoslai · 1 year

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seventy two hours - l. heeseung 📓🧑🏻‍🎓

• ₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

↣ lee heeseung x fem!reader (both are 18)

↣ it’s the summer after high school; heeseung has been in love with his childhood friend, y/n. despite his efforts to make her see how he feels, she remains oblivious. with only three days left before they both go off to college, he must find a way to win her heart before it's too late. will he succeed, or will he have to let go of his love and move on?

↣ warnings: MDNI! making out, cunnilingus, fingering, jerking off, voyeurism, unprotected sex, overstimulation, love confessions, creampie, explicit sex, teasing, dirty talk, body marking, & more.

↣ genre: fluff, angst, smut, slice of life au

↣ wc: 4.1k

• ₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

“lee heeseung,” you called, poking your head out of your window to look down at the sweaty boy who just so happened to live next door to you. he’d been bouncing a basketball in his driveway all night and it was driving you nuts!

to your incredulity, heeseung cocked his head to look up at you, smiling from ear to ear as he saw you. “y/n.” he sighed, holding his basketball to his chest. “have you been standing there the whole time?”

“no! unlike you, i’m trying to get some sleep. it’s 2 in the morning and you’ve been bouncing that ball since 7.” you whined, leaning against the window seal as you rubbed your sleepy eyes.

“oh? so you’re keeping track of how long i’ve been out here..?” he smugly remarked, dropping the ball into his yard as he wiped sweat from his forehead. “do i interest you that much, y/n?”

“heeseung.” you glared at him, “please let me sleep.”

he smiled, “you should come out here with me. i can show you how to shoot a 3 pointer.”

shaking your head, you closed your window. you huffed as you laid back in your bed, tiredly sighing as you heard him pick his ball up and bounce it against the pavement again. another day, another night spent trying to drown out heeseung.

• ₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

your next few days were spent dorm shopping with your mother; you’d been accepted into northwestern university to study journalism on a full scholarship. you truly were excited to start a new chapter of your life and explore yourself and the environment around you.

you’d be even happier if you didn’t have a little baby whining in your ear every day about the fact that you were moving across the country. of course, living next to heeseung meant you two were very close, almost too close. it got to the point of him being immensely comfortable with complaining about how it was “odd” if you to look forward to moving away from everyone you’ve ever known.

while yes, moving from a small town in virginia to a larger city in illinois would take some time getting used to, but that didn’t mean it would justify you being fearful. what was there to be afraid of? people move all the time, it wasn’t as though you’d be the first person to leave family for college. heeseung was just being dramatic, per usual.

“you really should just stay here, i don’t see why you can’t just go to school online.” heeseung shrugged, holding his knees to his chest as he sat on your bed, watching you take down the polaroids of you and friends from your walk to pack away for your dorm.

you smiled, shaking your head at him. “heeseung, you’re acting like i’m not going to come back on breaks. it’s not my fault you chose to stay here for college.”

“you’re right, i DID choose to stay here. wanna know why?” he asked.

you propped your hand on your hip and raised your eyebrow at him. “i know you want to tell me, so just go ahead and say it.”

“because…” he trailed off, anxiously biting his lip as he began again. “because everything i’ll ever need is here, virginia is my home; our home. why would you leave all this behind when everything you need is right here?”

you shrugged, “i don’t see what’s here in virginia that i can’t find in illinois. my parents plan to travel while i’m gone so there’s not much keeping me here.”

heeseung pouted. “ouch.”

“aw.” you laughed, “you know im going to miss you when i leave. how could i forget you and that stupid basketball you keep me awake with…”

heeseung smiled a bit, but you could tell there was some sadness behind it. “maybe we could play together?”

“hmmm…” you hummed. “we could, but i’d rather do something else. why don’t we do like a sleepover and binge on a bunch of movies? pull an all nighter or something.”

“a sleepover?” heeseung asked, sitting up and licking his lips. “as in…like me sleeping over here or…you sleeping at my house?”

“either. it doesn’t matter to me.” you smiled, grabbing some tape to close the box of pictures and placed it to the side. “but, you and i both know how strict my mom is about you being over. she would make you sleep on the couch downstairs.”

he slowly nodded, “true…”

“so we should probably just go to your place, yeah?” you asked him, glancing back at him. “i’m assuming you want me in the same bed as you, so we’re better off just doing it over at yours.”

he scoffed, “what?! who says i want you to sleep in my bed?”

“me.” you smiled, tossing the box off to the side. “like helloooo, look at me. who wouldn’t want me to sleep in their bed?”

heeseung married his eyes at you. “you are so…”

“i’m kidding~” you laughed, taking a seat at your desk. “i’d only get in your bed anyway.”

“wait really?” heeseung asked you, his ears perking up. “why only mine?”

“because you’re my bestie. now, go clean your room. i’ll be over in a few hours.” you told him, spinning around to organize the papers on your desk.

he laughed a bit before kicking the back of your seat as he made his way out.

• ₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

a few hours after heeseung had left, you’d found yourself drying your hair after taking a quick shower. you slipped on some shorts and a tee whilst grabbing your bag full of sleepover essentials.

making your way over to his house, you caught sight of his bedroom light being on and reflecting a shadow; a figure all too similar to his own. squinting your eyes up at him, you began to make sense of what you were seeing.

he stood near the window, head lowered while his arm appeared to repeatedly move in a swift motion….was he jerking off?

your heart skipped a beat when his head fell back and you looked down at the ground, contemplating whether or not you could simply walk in and face him after watching his shadow through his bedroom window.

biting your lip, you slowly turned to walk back to your house, his front door opened.

“y/n!!” his mothers voice rang in your ears from behind. you quickly turned back, being met by his mother waving for you to come. “i saw you standing out here! come on in, heeseung told me you were sleeping over…?”

you nodded, walking over to her. “um yeah! that’s um…that’s the plan.”

she closed the door behind you as you stepped in and slipped your shoes off. “well, that’s cute. i’m happy to see you two spend more and more time together, especially with you leaving in a few days.” she sighed, clasping her hands together. “i’ve always adored your friendship.”

“ahhh..” you smiled, nodding your head. “yeah, just a few more days.”

she frowned, “we’re all going to miss you very much!”

“i’ll come back and visit!” you exclaimed. she smiled, patting your shoulder as she signaled for the stairs.

“heeseung is up in his room. i’m not quite sure what he’s doing but he’s expecting you so just feel free to knock. i’ve got food in the kitchen and his father is down in the basement. if you guys need anything, just let me know. okay?”

“yes ma’am, and thank you!” you nodded at her, hurrying up the stairs.

as you stood in front of his closed bedroom door, you inhaled a deep breath, nervous to step in.

after standing there for a while, you brought your hand up to the door and knocked. “hey, heeseung. it’s me.”

you waited a while, hearing him reply, “kay, one sec…”

you rested your back against the wall opposite of his door, placing your hand over your chest as your heart rate began to increase. you wondered if you truly saw what you thought you saw outside or if you were just reading the situation wrong. you wondered if he was done shooting his hot load onto the nearest surface. you wondered if his cock was still twitching in his hand as he helped himself ride out his high by teasing his tip or even continuing to stroke his shaft.

“hey,” he said as he greeted you. his hair was damp and his shirt hung low off his collar bone, exposing some of his chest.

“took you long enough.” you scoffed, brushing past him as you attempted to play it cool, not wanting him to suspect anything.

he closed the door behind you and you sat on his bed, tossing your bag on the ground as you laid back and took your phone out.

“i didn’t prepare anything.” he said, “i’ve been laying in bed since i left your house.”

you looked at him as he sat beside you, awkwardly bringing his knees to his chest. “are you sure about that?”

“sure about what? laying in bed…?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

you nodded, “surely you haven’t been in bed for the past 5 hours.”

“i mean, for the most part.” he shrugged. “what does it matter?”

“it doesn’t…i was just being nosey.” you said, looking away from him and sighing. “it’s hot in here.”

“it’s like 70 degrees…” he trailed off.

you sat up quickly, facing him. “we should play a game, you down?”

“yeah.” he said, “go for it.”

you smiled, “truth or dare?”

he rolled his eyes and leaned back against his wall. “truth.”

“is it true that you’re going to be a big cry baby and have a tantrum on my last day here?” you teased, pushing him.

“bold of you to assume i’m even going to your send off.” he scoffed.

your smile fell, “wait, you aren’t coming?”

“if i go, i’ll miss you too much while you’re gone.” he pouted.

you smiled again, “awwww…stop flirting with me.”

he shrugged, “truth or dare?”

“dare, of course.” you said. “give me the best you’ve got.”

his eyes glanced to the side, then back at you. “mmm, i dare you to tell me one of your biggest fears.”

you flared your nose. “that’s the lamest dare. that’s all you could come up with? make it fun!”

“i don’t know…um…do a handstand or something.” he shrugged once again.

you titled your head to the side, shifting your hips on his bed. “are you okay?”

“uh..why?” he asked you. it was obvious that something was off with him, anybody who knew heeseung could tell that his body language was different than his normal; he was being awkward and he wasn’t talking as much as he usually did. the fact that he wasn’t even making an effort to flirt with you in the grossest ways possible was throwing you off.

not to say you LIKED being flirted with but…come on, you kind of missed it.

“you’re being so weird.” you told him, glancing down at his shirt again.

he sighed. “i’m a bit tired, that’s all.”

you were quiet for a bit. was he tired from cumming a few minutes before? could his orgasm have been so intense that it made him groggy? reserved?

“truth or dare?” you asked him, your eyes fixated on your own. you wanted to know why he picked right before you came over to touch himself. why he’d do it right in front of his window, and most of all, why he was trying to pretend like he wasn’t just making a mess in his room before you came?

“truth.” he said.

“what are you tired from?” you asked him, intensely gazing into his eyes.

he smiled a little, “basketball practice this morning. just the usual.”

“that’s all?” you asked him once again, feeling a bit antsy from the smile that was plastered on his face.

“is there something else you’re thinking i did?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

your tongue slid over your lower lip, feeling a wave of heat fall over your head. “i…”

his eyebrow raised. “you..?”

“i saw you.” you admitted, feeling your once assertive demeanor fade into a timid one.

he bit his lip, attempting to hold back his smile from growing wider. as his eyes trailed down, he leaned his head back against the wall. “saw me doing what?” you looked away from him, reaching back to grab your phone but his hand grabbed your arm. “no, say it. don’t start something if you can’t finish it…”

“dude, i didn’t see anything. i don’t know what i’m talking about.” you told him, pulling your arm away from him and crossing your legs, hoping that he didn’t the arousal that was seeping through your gray shorts.

he stood up, walking over to his window and opening the curtains. “saw me standing here earlier, right?”

you ignored him, staring down at your phone and scrolled through your instagram. before you realized it, heeseung was standing in front of you. he slid his index finger underneath your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. “saw me hand fucking myself, yeah?”

you slowly nodded, entranced at his intense eye contact.

“ah ah ah,” he tsked in a disapproving manner. “use your words, you’re a big girl.”

“yes..” you whispered, feeling small underneath his gaze.

“there you go,” he cooed. “that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“no. i just…why did you do that…right in front of your window? right before i came over?” you asked him.

“why do you think?” he asked, sighing. “isn’t it obvious?”

“no?” you replied, “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

he dropped his hand to his side. “y/n, i like you. i’ve liked you since you moved next door to me.” he admitted, breaking eye contact to look down at your phone that still rested in your hand. “i couldn’t go a whole night stuck in my room with you with a straight face. it would’ve been harder than you think.”

“you like me?” you asked him, shocked.

“you’re so oblivious, i swear..” he scoffed, walking away from you and closed his curtains. “anyway, it’s not like it matters now anyway. you’re leaving in a few days.”

you scooted forwards a bit, “w-why would you just now tell me? i had no idea, heeseung. you couldn’t have told me like…freaking years ago?!”

“i told you because i wouldn’t have to face you when you rejected me. duh.” he weakly laughed, turning away from you and shuffling through some of his clothing.

you held onto the sheets underneath you, feeling completely at a loss at his words.

“i wouldn’t reject you, heeseung.” you told him.

“yeah you would, no need to lie about it.” he shrugged. “i’ve already coke to terms with it, it’s over with.”

tears began to pool in your eyes. you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that your best friend, neighbor, childhood crush was admitting his feelings to you 72 hours before you moved across the country. “heeseung, i…”

“you don’t have to let me down lightly, y/n. it’s cool, don’t worry.” he sighed, sitting down back beside you as he rubbed his arms. “are you hungry? there’s some f-“

you cut him off with a kiss, holding his face against your own. he was stiff at first, shocked. but soon, he kissed you back and pulled you onto his lap. his hands roamed over your curves, from your waist down to your ass.

but then, he pulled away and held your wrists. “y/n, why…why are you doing this?

tears fell from your eyes as you looked ahead at him, feeling your heart sadden at him; heeseung was so perfect. he had the cutest pair of large brown eyes along with a beautiful smile and a soothing voice. how could you have been so blind before? he was all you could ask for in a guy. he never made you feel uncomfortable, he was sweet, and he went above and beyond when doing things for you. how could you leave him in 3 days?

“because i like you too, heeseung.” you told him. “please don’t push me away. please.”

he looked at you, his eyes reflecting the same sadness you’d felt. he pressed his lips back to your own, holding your chest against his as he gently mended his lips with yours.

he let go of your wrists, using his hand to lay you flat on your back and lay atop of you. your hands caressed his cheeks, melting into the feeling of him. as the kiss deepened, you felt his hands moving up from your waist to your breasts, massaging your erect areola through your shirt. you moaned into his mouth, feeling a wave of arousal wash over you. heeseung pulled away, looking into your eyes.

“do you want this?” he asked, his eyes searching for any doubt or hesitation in your expression.

you nodded, “so bad.”

with that, he leaned back down to kiss you again, this time with more passion and intensity. you felt his hands moving down to your shorts, slipping them off along with your panties. he broke the kiss to look at you, taking in your naked form beneath him.

“you’re so perfect,” he whispered, before leaning down to kiss your neck. “so beautiful, so pretty.”

you whined his name, feeling his lips and tongue working their way down your body. heeseung spent a long time exploring every inch of your skin, eliciting moans and gasps from you with every touch.

he left wet kisses down your stomach down to your thighs, laying between your legs and propping them onto his shoulders. “y/n,” he whispered, “has anyone ever…done this to you before?”

you shook your head, “no, heeseung. no one has.”

he licked his lips, sucking on your dripping outer labia, sticking his tongue inside to flick his wet muscle against your achining clit.

“oh!” you squealed, arching your back at the surge of pleasure that rolled through your pelvis. “heeseung, oh my..”

he continued to pleasure you with his mouth, soon slipping in a finger to add to your pleasure. you gripped onto the sheets underneath you as you felt his rough fingertips rubbing against your convulsing walls, feeling a knot build up in your stomach.

“oh shit, heeseung….” you cried, throwing your head back as he held onto your thighs, forcing you down harder against his mouth. “i think i’m gonna…i think i’m gonna..”

he lifted his head up, replacing his tongue with his thumb as he kissed your thighs. “cum for me, baby.”

you squeezed your eyes shut as your orgasm ripped through your body, making your hips sputter. essense dripped out of your tender pussy as you moaned, closing your thighs over his hand.

he kept rubbing his thumb over your sensitive clit, “heeseung, stop. please, please, i can’t. it hurts…please…”

he crawled back up to kiss you, running his fingers through your hair. “we can stop now, if you want.”

you held his face, caressing his cheek. “no, i..i want to go all the way.”

“have you had sex before?” he asked.

you shook your head, “i’ve only…done other stuff. never went all the way.”

he kissed you once before sitting up. “before we do this, i just want you to know that i’ve liked you for…a very, very long time. even on the days where we wouldn’t talk, all i thought about was you. i couldn’t bring myself to date anyone else throughout highschool when i would go home and see you through your window, looking as pretty as ever. my heart has always belonged to you, and i hope that even when you go off work college, you always remember that i’ll always hold tight onto the thought of you, keeping you close to my heart. forever and always.”

you felt tears welling up in your eyes at his words, knowing how much courage it must have taken for him to say them. you took his hand, squeezing it tightly.

“i will always remember, heeseung,” you said, your voice filled with emotion. “and i will always hold onto the memories we’ve made together.”

he leaned down to kiss you again, his lips conveying all the emotions he couldn’t put into words. you felt his hands moving down to pull his pants down and he tightly held your hand within his, signaling that he was going to begin.

you felt the his cock poke against your pussy, making you gasp when you felt how hot and wet his tip was.

“squeeze my hand if it hurts and i’ll stop right away. sound good, pretty girl?” he asked, looking into your eyes.

“okay, i’m ready…” you told him, glancing down at his length prodding against your entrance. slowly but surely, you felt him slowly begin to push himself into your tight hole, stirring when you subconsciously clenched at the stretch. “y/n,” he huffed half laughed, “don’t squeeze like that. you’re gonna make me cum.”

you smiled a bit, “sorry..”

he kissed you again, glancing down and applying pressure to your tummy. “just relax, let me do the work.”

you complied, biting your lip as he bottomed out inside of you, not moving. you felt stuffed, one wrong move and he would impale your cervix. but something about the whole ordeal was turning you on so much, you could cum again without him even moving.

“feel okay?” he asked.

you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him down to kiss you. you rolled your hips against his own, itching for some type of stimulation.

he thrusted his hips into your own, starting at a slow pace as he reached down to being your leg over his back.

you moaned with pleasure, feeling a sense of euphoria wash over you as he brought you closer to another orgasm. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you as you met his thrusts with your own.

heeseung picked up the pace, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. you moaned into his mouth, your fingers scratching at his back as you held on for dear life.

heeseung pulled back, breaking the kiss to look down. "shit, your pussy is squeezing me," he moaned. “i’m gonna cum…”

you could feel his cock twitching inside you, signaling his impending release. the mere thought of him coming inside you sent you over the edge, your own orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave.

you cried out his name, your body convulsing with pleasure as he continued to thrust into you, prolonging your orgasm. heeseung finally slowed down, his movements becoming more gentle as he rode out his own release.

with a final thrust, you felt his hot load shoot deep inside of your walls, panting the pink walls a tinge of white.

heeseung propped himself up, pulling his sensitive cock out of you and taking a deep breath.

he slipped his boxers back on and you claimed your breathing as you heard him walk away, coming back with a damp towel. you felt him wipe down your most sensitive areas and finish off with your face.

he tossed the towel to the side and helped you slip your panties back on along with your top. without a second thought, you held onto him, cuddling into the warmth of his exposed chest.

heeseung cuddled you back, laying beside you as he pulled his covers over the both of you.

“you did so well, y/n.” he whispered, planting a soft kiss against your nose. “was it okay?”

“more than okay…” you told him, closing your eyes and yawning. “thank you..for everything. for confessing to me and for making me cum twice in one night.”

he awkwardly laughed, shifting against you. “yeah…sure. are you sleepy?”

you order, “super sleepy.”

“sleep, we can talk more in the morning.”

and with that, you fell asleep. you weren’t sure what the future held for you and heeseungs relationship. all you knew was that you loved him for him. he was your friend, your first time, and now your first love. only time would tell for your relationship.

• ₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

authors note: here’s another lil fic! got bored and wanted to do a cute lil heeseung story, hope u liked it! 😊

#enhypen smut #enhypen ff #heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #heeseung fluff #heeseung angst #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff

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mimi-0007 · 19 days

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Jennie Dean founder of “Manassas Industrial School for Colored Youth" Jennie Serepta Dean (1848–1913)

She was born a slave in northern Virginia’s Prince William County, but by the late 1880’s she finagled enough money from people like tycoon Andrew Carnegie to build an entire educational campus: classrooms, dormitories, dining halls, libraries and shops to teach both academic classes and trades like carpentry, animal husbandry, cooking and sewing to male and female black students from across the region, who had few other options for continuing their education.

Opened in 1894 with a small group of students and lasting in various forms until the original buildings were torn down in the 1960’s, Jennie Dean’s “Manassas Industrial School for Colored Youth” is testament to one woman’s determination and leadership. Her legacy lives on through the hundreds of students she touched, and their families.

What vision she had. What persistence in the face of extraordinary odds, from “ordinary” obstacles such as lack of money to the everyday insults of segregation and discrimination. What a gift she gave to so many generations of classes.

Frederick Douglass himself delivered the school’s dedication ceremony address in September, 1894. Here’s what he said, noting the location near major Civil War battles fought over whether people in certain states had the right to own slaves:

“No spot on the soil of Virginia could be more fitly chosen for planting this school….it is a place where the children of a once enslaved people may realize the blessings of liberty and education.”

Before they were torn down,the Manassas Industrial School buildings housed segregated classes during decades of Jim Crow.

#black tumblr #black literature #black history #black excellence #black community #civil rights #black history is american history #black girl magic #blackexcellence365 #black history month #black girl tumblr

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breelandwalker · 1 year

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Witchcraft Exercise - Creating Correspondences

There are dozens of plant species in the arsenal of the green witch. Commonly-used varieties and usage varies somewhat between traditions, but most of us are fairly familiar with industry standards like basil, bay, rosemary, sage, and so on.

But what do you do when faced with a plant that has no listed magical correspondences anywhere that you can find in your witchcraft library? Simple - you create some.

Allow me to demonstrate with a little plant I found in my own backyard. It's a common weed called Virginia copperleaf (Acalypha virginica). But despite it's widespread range and abundant growth as a field weed, there are surprisingly few references to the plant in regional folk medicine and none at all that I could find in contemporary witchcraft.

So in order to incorporate this hardy little weed into my practice, I set about creating some correspondences for it.

First, I researched the physical properties of the plant. It is a small annual spurge with long taproots, a resistance to drought and many herbicides, and a reputation for fast growth and being difficult to eradicate from fields due to prolific seeding. The leaves turn coppery-red in the fall and small spiky flowers bloom among the foliage. It is also mildly poisonous. The juice of the plant may cause contact dermatitis or a mild rash in some people and if ingested, it may cause GI symptoms such as vomiting and diarrhea.

Next, I researched references to the plant in folk medicine. I could only find a single reference that cited copperleaf as a possible diuretic and expectorant. That does track with the previous mention of GI symptoms, but it doesn't mean the plant is safe to use. I did discover that an alternate name for the plant is three-seeded mercury or mercury weed, likely because of its' tendency for fast growth and the fact that it is propagated by the wind.

So now comes the business of creating the correspondences, using the physical properties of the plant as a basis.

The first and most obvious association is strength. Any weed that is resistant to drought and herbicide and uprooting is bound to be useful for spells involving tenacity and fortitude. Prosperity is also a likely use, both because of the name copperleaf and the way in which the plant grows and spreads quickly. Because of the alternate name mercury weed and the wind propagation, it could be used for wind magic or communication spells. (I often associate the element of air with communication and the name of a messenger god is right there as well, but your mileage may vary.)

The plant could also be used as an ingredient for baneful magic, either to bind and frustrate someone's efforts by consuming available ground where their ambitions might grow, or in its' capacity as a mild poison, to cause physical discomfort and stomach trouble.

So in the end, I have a handful of copperleaf and a listing in my witchbook that details the properties of the plant and notes that it could be useful for spells involving strength, tenacity, prosperity, wind, or communication, as well as possible baneful uses including binding, discomfort, and sickness.

This is my system for assigning correspondences to previously-unknown plants, and I encourage readers to use it as a template for their own practices or to create their own system. Either way, I recommend the use of a field guide or plant identification app like PlantNet to properly identify plants as you find them. Remember to forage and harvest responsibly, be a good steward of the land around you, and always label your plant cuttings.

Happy Witching! 💚🌿

(If you're enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. You can also check out my show Hex Positive wherever fine podcasts are heard. 😊)

More witchcraft exercises here:

#witch community #witchcraft exercises #baby witch #witchcraft #witchblr #witch tips #green witchcraft #plant magic #Advice for Beginner Witches

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aziraphales-library · 2 months

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Ello Ello Ello :D

Would you happen to have a Human AU fic where Aziraphale has an toxic relationship with his family and it is well explored? Bonus points if Crowley and Aziraphale are long date friends.

Thank you so much for your work <3333

Hi. We have some fics where Aziraphale's family aren't great here. Here are more to add...

Against All Odds by GroovyNightStrawberry (E)

How can you just walk away from me? When all I can do is watch you leave 'Cos we've shared the laughter and the pain and even shared the tears You're the only one who really knew me at all Az is eleven, and his world is falling apart. His best friend is walking away from him, and Az can't find a way to make him stay. Thirty-five years later, there's a familiar face at Aziraphale's new job, and it threatens to break his heart all over again. Can they do it better this time?

Ships in the Night by tishae (G)

Aziraphale did not want to head home for Christmas. Spending the entirety of the holidays with his Mother and siblings seemed, if you asked him, like a special version of Hell carved out just for him. Making up a boyfriend that he was spending the season with seemed like a perfect excuse (and no, he wasn't going to think too hard about why he had provided Crowley's name), until his Mother had insisted they should both come. "It'd be great to meet him!" Aziraphale had no idea how he was going to explain this to the coffee shop owner he'd had a crush on for the last two years, much less convince him to take part, but he was about to find out. or It's Christmas time, and our ineffable idiots are faking a relationship while definitely not being totally, completely head over heels for each other.

The Fall (Edition) by Thinkinginscripts (M)

Anthony J Crowley, former face of Burberry, fashion editor of Hell Magazine, arbiter of cool, found himself perched at a small antique card table at the back of a cluttered bookshop, looking down at a tea pot and porcelain cups, milk jug and sugar bowl as if they were alien artefacts. Or Azir's family, of sound military stock, treated feelings a little like illnesses. They could be prevented, cured, but were certainly not to be shared. Or A human AU about what happens when a photoshoot in an atmospheric bookshop puts two men from different worlds together, and how long it takes them to bumble through the embarrassment of talking about Feelings (20+ chapters, it turns out).

Rain Fall by mageofthepeople (E)

A human, Victorian AU. Anthony Crowley and Azra Fell meet and fall in love and into a two year relationship while Az finishes university. When they are set to finally escape to the continent, they are separated for three years and neither of them are completely sure what happened to cause the split. When they accidentally run into one another, they find they can't move forward until they figure out what happened in their past.

Plus One by Caedmon (E)

Aziraphale Eastgate’s wealthy family have finally come to tolerate the fact that he’s gay in the last couple of years. However, to their mind, he’s in his mid-thirties and should be settling down with someone… acceptable. So Aziraphale tells them he has a boyfriend whom they haven’t met -and doesn't exist. Now his older brother is getting married, and Aziraphale has been given a plus one. They're expecting to meet his imaginary boyfriend, so he’s got to find a date. Fast. He takes his problem to his best friend, Fergus, who suggests his mechanic, Crowley. Much to Aziraphale's surprise, the gorgeous (and likely straight) mechanic agrees to go to the Tadfield Estate for the whole five-day event. Simple, right? Well...

The False and the Fair by Princip1914 (E)

Growing up in the shadow of West Virginia’s Eden Mountain, Aziraphale Wright always expected to work for the family coal mining company. Anthony Crowley, the son of a down-and-out miner, was going to become a pilot and leave town forever. Now, thirty years later, neither of their lives have gone as planned, and an unexpected inheritance brings them back into one another’s orbit. Aziraphale hopes that they can move beyond their shared past, and a high school arrangement that ended in disaster, but he has secrets of his own that threaten their fragile reconnection… Finished, July 2021. This fic will occasionally be archive locked (I put all my E rated work behind a lock at various times due to personal reasons) but please don’t let that put you off reading it!

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #human au #adult omens #family dynamics #mod d

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sunshineandspencer · 1 month

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Coffee shop

A/N: I have never had an original experience, because every woman I’ve ever known has always wanted to run a mix of a coffee shop and a library/florists, I am no different. That isn’t what this fic is about, but I’ll take any chance to lament about my lack of funds for a coffee-floristry-library shop 😔😔😔

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: If Spencer Reid had a nickel for everytime he ran into someone on his daily routines that he believes might be a serial killer, he’d now have two nickels, which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened twice.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: talking about blood(??), nothing really

I have redone the form for the taglist now that I’m apparently expanding from Criminal Minds

Spencer liked his routines. He’s invested a lot of time in developing a comfortable routine whenever work in Quantico goes for longer than usual. For whenever he’s home.

Part of that routine is treating himself to breakfast. Knowing damn well that he wouldn’t eat otherwise - the toaster is his mortal enemy and has been unplugged since he moved into his apartment, refusing to repeat the mistake that lost him his favourite mug.

He sampled a lot of coffee shops that are close to his apartment, not wanting to walk further than 10 minutes away just for a decent cup of coffee and some breakfast. Until, finally, he found the one that fit his very specific - and not at all autistic - guidelines for what he needed, finding himself pushing that door open at 07:09 everyday he’s home.

‘Virgin’s Coffee House’, probably a little too on the nose considering he’s.. himself, but the owner explained that it was actually ‘Virginia’s Coffee House’ until these two kids stole the letters four separate times and the owner just gave up. Accepting their fate.

That specific time, too, was well tested to get just the right moment. 07:09.

Just quiet enough that he’s comfortable but not suffocated by an overwhelming silence, they have a gentle radio choice that he adored, excellent warm pastries, and in those early hours his little space was permeated with a soft floral scent, the notes of which are heavenly.

Then, of course, being a man with an eidetic memory, his brain swiftly catalogued the regulars that he would see every single time he visited, the NPCs to his daily routine.

There’s the man who drops his girlfriend - the barista - off to work, the man who is always hunched over his laptop by the window and is seemingly constantly perplexed at the sun slipping through the blinds he pulls down. The owner that ignores her barista ‘sneaking’ free pastries to her boyfriend to go and smoke out back, and the woman that is somehow always directly ahead of him in the queue.

For a while, and because of her consistency with it, he wondered if she might wait somewhere to spot him coming, and then dart into the shop to get ahead of him. A thought he quickly dismissed as crazy, and one only a profiler would get to a conclusion with. Settling with the answer that they just have similar routines.

He has some sense of her job, from the lanyard usually haphazardly shoved into her bag, and the clothes she wore. But he isn’t the kind of person to just strike up conversations with women - hell, anyone.

Until today.

On her hip, over the top of her very pretty, sage sundress, she had a handprint. A small, child-sized handprint in, what he was hoping, was paint. Dark red.. dried paint. Right.

Tapping her shoulder, it clearly surprised her that her own routine was broken from the usual quiet queue for her coffee, although she turned to him with a confused smile. This action, merely turning to face him, immediately gave him the revelation that the pretty floral scent he keeps coming back for is her.

Quickly smiling back and pointing down at her hip, going for blissfully unaware rather than alerted FBI agent.

“Hallowe’en in September?”

Nice, casual question, not at all giving away the inner screaming of Jesus Christ, don’t let this beautiful woman be a murderer.

Keeping his eyes on her face to see what kind of reaction she has, as she looks down. Tugging at the fabric so she could see it clearly, tutting softly and immediately worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Oh.. yeah, that looks worse than it did yesterday.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He’s found a serial killer. In his coffee shop. How the hell does this keep happening to--

“What about this one, I haven’t even tried to get it off yet because we’re doing more today.”

Pulling the skirt of her dress back to normal to show him a neon orange - slightly smaller - handprint on her knee, like a child had smacked her leg with a handful of paint.

Which, thankfully, confirmed his previous assumption that she works in Kindergarten.

“That’s very uhm.. well.”

He tried to say something nice, but the longer he searched and shuffled through all the words in his brain, the brighter her smile got. And the more nervous he got about saying the wrong thing to this genuinely really pretty woman. Christ, he’s making himself look like an idiot.

Coming to his rescue, before he started spewing out Shakespearean compliments because that’s all his brain could focus on, she waved with a softly dismissive hum.

“Don’t worry, I know it’s not really my colour. Some of the kids took ‘paint your teacher’ a little too literal. But it’s only their first week so I’m letting it slide.”

Now that the fear of her being a serial killer is gone, he’s left with the brutal realisation that she’s beautiful. Which, unfortunately means that acknowledgement of her looks causes his brain to stop working. Beautiful women, as Emily has eloquently stated, slash his IQ to 60.

“You- You work with children?”

Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to mind his sudden stutter, or that he’s unconsciously fiddling with his tie. Only smiling brighter, despite him now being apparently unable to get a full sentence out compared to before.

“Yeah! Real young kids, who haven’t learnt that paint goes on their paper and not the teacher, not yet anyway. Why? That handprint make you think I was a murderer?” She was clearly teasing, but his flushed cheeks and averted gaze told her the truth. “Oh my God you did.”

Her jaw dropped and she didn’t look away from him as they shuffled up the queue, from where he was desperately trying to explain.

Searching his bag, diving into it really, to try and find his badge to prove who he is. This is the first time he’s ever felt genuine hatred for his messenger bag, everything just falling in the way of his ID that would prove that he’s not crazy, he’s just insanely observant.

Finding it with a breathless laugh and holding it out to her, giving a pleadingly nervous smile.

“I’m- I work for the FBI! The Behavioural Analysis Unit, I catch serial killers and, well, it looked--”

He just gestured again to the dark red paint dried into the fabric of her dress. Terrified he’d ruined this interaction by assuming incorrectly.

But she just laughed, and not at all insulted or upset like he thought, just seemingly amused by the whole thing. Hand falling back to the print, thumbing at the dried paint, some flakes falling to the floor between them before being swept away by the wind from the open door.

“It’s okay, I knew it didn’t look great, but catching the attention of an FBI agent? I’ll take it.”

Still stumbling over his words, he desperately looks for the right thing to say, wanting to get the mush in his brain out to apologise again and again. Something about her smile made him want to reassure her a hundred times over.

“Not that, of course, you look anything like a serial killer. Although female serial killers are, usually, far better at hiding that they are killers, and are actually called silent killers. So even if you were, you seem way too smart to leave a handprint on your dress. Not- that I’m saying you would know how to be a murderer, but I just- I had to make sure--”

“Really, it’s alright, uh..” looking down, she runs her fingers over his name before handing his ID badge back, “Spencer, really. It’s a nice thought, knowing I have such observant agents in my area. Makes me feel.. safe.”

And not a hint of sarcasm, paired with a genuine smile. Her name was called for a coffee and that split moment she turned away gave him a chance to react.

Hearing his name in her gently teasing voice had made his heart beat so damn hard against his chest he half expected to look down and see it beating out cartoonishly. Pressing the heel of his palm to the centre of his chest to try and calm down before she turned back around.

That smile still on her face when she did, her name written all pretty on her cup, and fitting her perfectly.

“Could you explain what the Behavioural Analysis Unit does? I’m still not sure.”

He went to open his mouth, happy to spew facts, knowing that’s his comfort zone more than anything else, and wanting to show that he can do more than word vomit whatever comes to the tip of his tongue first.

But she shakes her head, taking out her phone and tapping some things before handing it over to him. An empty contact page, except for the name which was already filled in with ‘Spencer (the cute coffee guy)’ at which his eyes darted back to hers, although his thumbs were already putting in his number.

“How about tomorrow? About six-forty?”

Handing back the phone after checking the number, and replying with a breathy ‘yeah’, at which she smiled and walked past him. His own name getting called for his coffee, but not turning to get it until she left the shop.

When she turned to look back at him with a small wave, he knew he was absolutely done for wherever this woman is concerned.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Spencer. Six-forty, it’s a date, don’t be late.” Slipping out so that he could take that in himself, not actually moving until his name gets called for the fourth time, and the barista throws a balled up napkin at him. A daft smile on his face as he whips out his phone to text Garcia all about the date he’s going on tomorrow morning.

Want more?! Good!

taglist ( ˘ ³˘)♥ @peliides ║ @peachsodameg ║ @angelinajolie0213 ║ @jiggly-puff-12 ║ @khxna ║ @kennedy2156 ║ @trulycayla ║ @none-of-your-bullshit ║ @alexxavicry ║ @meg-black ║ @princess76179 ║ @chicken-fifi ║ @averyhotchner ║ @punkyghoulz ║ @person-005 ║ @aaronlovesava ║ @Optimisticsandwichgladiator ║ @cultish-corner ║ @xox0_emma ║ @whatyagottado ║ @wonderland2425 (if your tag is here and not working check out this reblog to see if any of it could hopefully help!!)

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x oc

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 9 months

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New Beginnings

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: New city. New job. New school. New apartment,. New neighbors. New beginnings.

Square Filled: choose your own au for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

This is a new start for you. New city. New apartment. New neighbors. New job. A fresh start from your old life. Growing up, you’ve always been a small-town girl with hopes of moving to a big city to chase her dreams. Back home, everyone knew everyone’s business. Like when Shelly from church was caught having an affair with the pastor. Her husband found out that day and both of them had to leave town to avoid the scrutiny of everyone else. Or like the time when your sister got pregnant and only told a small group of people only to go to work the next day and people knew.

Small-town folk aren’t for everyone which is why you left while you could. The only problem is that all your family is back home. You know no one in Quantico, Virginia. You guess that’s the best part about it. You can reinvent yourself and create a whole new life separate from what you’ve known.

Before moving to Virginia, you got yourself enrolled in night school for graphic design since you’ve always wanted to be a designer. You’ve done some work for your town like making websites for businesses and making some ads for smaller companies but you want to know more so you can do bigger and better things.

Tomorrow, you’ll scout the city and find a coffee shop to make your second home, find the nearest grocery store, etc. Right now, all you’re focused on is getting all your boxes out of the moving truck so you can return it before the deadline. You’re doing it by yourself but you don’t have a lot to do. You never had a lot when you left your hometown but it’s still a lot for one person to do.

It takes you all day to get everything inside your house, and the only thing you’re able to unpack is your bedframe and mattress. It’s going to take all week to get most everything set up which is fine because night school doesn't start for another two weeks.

You live in a building that sits in a circle of other buildings with a huge courtyard in the middle. The courtyard consists of a dog park, a pool, a volleyball set, and some outdoor furniture where people can sit and eat. Your building is right across from another so you can see into people’s apartments if their curtains are open.

Your phone rings and you answer it while admiring the other buildings.

“Hey, mom.”

“Y/N! Did you get in okay?”

“Yeah, I just set up my bed. I’ll start unpacking tomorrow.”

“I’m sad you’re so far from us but I’m happy for you. Does that make sense?” she chuckles. “Anyway, your dad and I will come visit as soon as he gets this new promotion. He’ll get some time off and we can always use the vacation.”

“Yeah, by then, I’ll have seen some places we can go to. You like history and Virginia is a history-rich state.”

“Okay, I just wanted to know if you got in safe. Your dad and I are going out with the folks from church. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure. I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

The building across from yours is close enough to where you could communicate with another resident if you shouted but you’re not going to disturb others, especially at night. The sun is still up but is quickly going down, leaving the sky with pretty colors. There is a young man sitting on his small balcony with a book in his hands minding his own business. Every apartment has a small balcony where people can sit and enjoy the fresh air, but most of them use it for storage.

The young man runs his fingers down the pages of the book and flips through the book at a shocking speed. Is he really reading that fast? He must feel your eyes on him because he looks up and makes eye contact with you. You give him a small wave to which he returns before going back to reading.

You look at the boxes inside your room and see a label on one of them that reads: ARTS AND CRAFTS. You open the box to see thick small poster boards you were using for a project back home. Next to them are your markers so you grab the black one and a handful of poster boards. You write “Hi, my name is Y/N” on one of them before going back outside.

The man looks up just as you hold up your poster board for him to see. You wrote the letters in a thick font so he is able to read them from where he’s at. He reads what you have and leaves the balcony to go back inside his apartment. The smile is lost from your face at the thought of making him uncomfortable but then he walks back out with poster boards of his own. He writes something down on his and shows it to you.

Hi. My name is Spencer.

You like reading?

I love it.

You new here?

No, been here 13 years. You new?

Yes, I came from Kansas.

Job?

Graphic Designer. You?

FBI.

Sounds exotic.

Spencer smiles at this. Some of his nighttime preparations are to read for an hour before bed, and he was at the forty-five-minute mark when you two started talking.

I have to go. Talk tomorrow?

Tomorrow.

Spencer packs up his poster boards and heads back inside, and you follow suit a few minutes later. You’re going to need to buy more poster boards if you want to continue talking to him across the courtyard. Tomorrow comes and you end up finding a grocery store, a coffee shop, and a place that sells a lot of poster boards.

Spencer must have a day job because you didn’t see him at all while you were unpacking. You started with the kitchen and barely finished with it by the time Spencer got back from his job as an FBI agent. Wow, imagine that. A real-life FBI agent. You’ve only seen them in movies and TV shows so it's kind of cool you get to say you know someone in that field.

You sit on your balcony and wait for him to come out. Ten minutes go by and you see the light in his place turn on. Five more later, he walks out on his balcony with poster boards in hand. He doesn’t look too good. Yesterday, he had a natural glow about him but today, he has a sort of sadness about him. Still, he’s out here talking to you because he enjoys your company even though you’re in separate buildings.

You okay?

Rough case.

You want to talk?

Can’t. Open investigation. Of course. Duh. He flips the poster board over and scribbles something else on it. How was your day?

Good. Just school. I graduate Fall 2027.

Field of study?

Graphic Design.

Anything I’d see of yours?

You grin and write down a website you helped design before showing it to him. He takes one look at it and types it on his phone. He admires your work and thinks it’s amazing work. You have real talent.

I like it. You’re talented.

Even from where you’re at, you can see how sad he is. You’re not sure what he’s dealt with today or what he is going through, but you hope to make it better at least a little bit. You have to use two posterboards for this to get your message across.

Don’t let your job strip you of who you are. No job is worth it if you’re losing yourself.

You got Spencer to smile.

Same to you.

As the days progress, you and Spencer make it a nightly routine of talking to each other through poster boards. During the day, you’re unpacking boxes and getting your home ready while Spencer is at work dealing with the worst of the worst. His job isn’t easy but seeing you every night lifts his spirits.

That is until he stops showing up. You gave him a couple of days without bothering him since he might be caught up in something for work, but after seeing his light every night without him coming to the balcony, you know something is wrong. You don’t know who he is fully, but you do know that he would come talk to you if he was feeling up for it.

“Any sights of your secret lover?” one of your best friends, Marcy, says over the phone.

“No, he’s still held up in his apartment,” you say and look out the window to his.

“I bet he’s not even an FBI agent. Maybe he lied to you,” Rebecca, your other friend, says.

“I don’t think so. Maybe he just needs some time alone. I don’t know a lot about him. He can only fit so much on small poster boards.”

“It’s giving You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift,” Marcy chuckles.

“I think you should go over there and talk to him face-to-face.”

“Yeah, I have to agree with Bec. It’s not like he’s your next-door neighbor. If it doesn’t work out, you don’t have to see him in passing.”

“True,” you bite your lower lip. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“Let us know how it goes,” Bec smirks.

“Oh, I will. Wish me luck.”

“Luck!” both girls say at the same time before hanging up.

You turn back to Spencer’s apartment and see the light peeking through the curtains. You count the number of floors he’s off the ground and the number of apartments he’s at from the wall so you know where to start. You’re not sure what you’re going to do when you get there but you’ll think of something on the spot.

You have some cookies left over from when you made some a few days ago, so you box those up and make your way over to the building across from yours. Your keycard works for this building even though you’re not a resident in it because you’re a resident overall. Once inside his building, you make your way up to the fifth floor and the tenth apartment from the wall.

Here goes nothing.

You knock twice on the door and wait for someone to answer it. It might not even be his apartment but you’ll try all of them if you have to. A few moments later, Spencer opens the door with a confused look on his face. When he sees you, his eyes widen slightly.

“Wow,” he breathes.

“What?”

“You’re more beautiful in person.”

Your cheeks heat up at his compliment.

“I brought you some cookies. I hope you’re doing okay. I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” he sighs. “Work has just been… yeah, it’s not fun sometimes.”

“I can only imagine which is why I brought some cookies.”

“Would you like to come in?”

“Yes,” you smile.

You walk inside and immediately notice all the poster boards he’s been using to communicate with you. He’s saved every single one of them and that brings a smile to your face. You never thought you’d meet someone this quickly after moving to a new city, but you’re glad you did.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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naughtyneganjdm · 9 months

Text

Returning Home For The Holidays

Summary: When you return to your hometown for the holidays after getting a divorce, you run into your old friend Negan who makes your Christmas better than any you've had before.

Characters: Negan, the reader (OC), etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52520974

Warnings: Christmas themes, fluff, small amount of smut (not very detailed), second person reader, etc.

Notes: I wrote this really quick because I wanted to write something small for Christmas. This is a shortened version of the second Christmas story that I wanted to write, but never got the time to. So, I hope you enjoy it!

Warmth flooded your veins while you sat in front of the fireplace on Christmas Eve. What you thought was going to be one of the hardest Christmases of your life surprisingly became one of the best yet. The year started off horribly for you when you found your husband Shane cheating on you. Shane had never been much of a husband, but the two of you had a daughter together that was eight years old. Everything was very hard for your daughter because she loved her father very much, but, unfortunately, Shane was never much of a father either.

Once you found out about his affairs and requested a divorce, Shane made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with his family in the first place. You had originally moved with Shane for work, so when everything happened you moved back to your small hometown in Virginia. Your first day back was stressful enough. Your daughter Daisy was upset that her father didn’t want to be around her for Christmas and didn’t understand why she had to leave everything she knew to move somewhere completely new. On top of that, your car had broken down your first day back in the middle of a massive snowstorm before you could even get to your family’s place.

What felt like the worst luck ended up being some of your best luck. The person who came to give you a tow was Negan Smith. Someone that had been one of your best friends growing up. Unfortunately, in the last year or two of high school the two of you had grown apart. Back then, you didn’t understand it. But when you started thinking about it once you saw him again, you realized it was likely because of your relationship that you started with Shane. Shane was very possessive and didn’t like you being around other men, so that would have explained why you and Negan had lost contact.

When he had shown up, you were surprised to see that he had his own mechanics shop because you had heard he was the local high school’s gym teacher and coach. In fact, you had seen many articles about Negan in the past because of his teams winning so many championships. Knowing that he was able to do both the school job and he owned his own business was impressive. Especially after you had heard rumors about his wife passing away.

That night you had met Negan’s daughter Elizabeth who ended up being only a few months younger than Daisy and the girls hit it off immediately. They had started playing together while you waited for Negan to fix your car and after that they were inseparable. So after that day, you found yourself at Negan’s home more often than not because your daughter had now found a new best friend in the town that you had moved to. And what was once miserable for Daisy, was something she was really happy to find.

It was also nice for you to be able to spend some time with Negan. With it being Christmas, Negan was stepping up in places in terms of being a father toward Daisy that Shane never had done on the holiday before for her. And it was just natural for him to be like that since he was already doing it for Elizabeth himself. You didn’t even ask that of him either, he was just involving your daughter in everything on his own and it was something that awed you. You had more of a Christmas this year than you ever had with Shane.

Right now the girls were sitting with Negan painting both his fingernails and his toenails while they were all sitting in front of the fireplace. That was something Shane would never let his daughter do to him, so the fact that Negan was letting both girls do it had Daisy in giggles. It was very sweet while Negan interacted with them.

“Oh. Girls,” Negan blurt out, holding his hands up when they finished with their work on his nails. “This is beautiful. You did a great job. This is definitely my color.”

Holding his hands out, Negan let you see them and you felt a rush of color flooding in your cheeks. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips and you gave him a small nod, “Don’t you think these are my colors?”

“I do. I think the red and green are very festive. The green goes with your eyes,” you commented on the nail polish color causing Negan to snort when he looked down at his hands and feet.

“Your turn?” Daisy looked back at you with a big cheesy smile, her dimples warming your heart. It had been a long time since you had seen your daughter this happy.

“It’s only fair. The rest of us have them,” Elizabeth commented, throwing her hand up to show that she had matching nails with Negan and Daisy. “So you have to do it too.”

“Yeah Y/N, you just have to do it,” Negan explained with a smirk, adjusting his thick black framed glasses over his face. Seeing the smile that he gave you drew your heart to flutter inside of your chest and you smiled.

“Of course girls,” you held out your hands for the girls while they eagerly put you where they needed you to start painting your nails. “You know, after this Daisy we are probably going to have to head back to your grandparents home. We’ve been with Negan and Elizabeth all day. They probably want to get going to bed so that way Santa can make it to their house.”

“Oh, come on mom,” Daisy frowned, her head lifting up dramatically when she looked out at you with her big eyes. The pout she gave you showed that she wasn’t ready to leave. “Can’t we just spend the night here? It’s already late. We’re in our pajamas and it’s nice here.”

“But what about the gifts that Santa will be bringing you at your grandparents?” you reminded your daughter of the gifts that she would be getting, but it didn’t seem like that bothered her all that much. “I don’t know if Negan and Elizabeth would be okay with us staying here on Christmas.”

“Of course I would be okay with that!” Elizabeth boasted, her dimples prominent much like her father’s while Negan looked between all of you with his expressive eyebrows. “I love spending time with you and Daisy. I think dad likes it too.”

“Oh?” you looked to Negan and a tiny smirk tugged at his handsome features. With a simple shrug, Negan nodded his head hearing the girls begging soon after. “That’s up to Negan. Santa probably wont know you’re here though because we didn’t let him know ahead of time.”

“Oh, I think Santa will know. He’ll bring her a few things,” Negan declared, shocking you with that comment. Looking to him, you could see the way his jaw clenched and he nodded his head. “The rest of your stuff will be at your grandparents, but I think he might leave a few presents for you here.”

“Really?” Daisy seemed excited to hear that as they finished up with Y/N’s nails. “Does that mean that we can stay?”

“I’m okay with that,” Negan answered with the excitement from the girls following. “You two just have to make sure you go to bed tonight though. You don’t want to be up and scare off Santa. Do you?”

“Of course not,” Elizabeth answered her father, hopping up from the ground to run into her father’s arms. Her bear hug caused Negan to let out a happy sound and he peppered kisses against the side of her face. Negan stroked his fingers through Elizabeth’s blonde hair and his hazel eyes hooked with yours. “I promise we will be good. And in the morning, you can make us your special Christmas pancakes.”

“Special Christmas pancakes?” Daisy muttered with interest behind her eyes. “What’s that?”

“Daddy makes the best reindeer pancakes. It was something him and my mom started when I was younger,” Elizabeth explained to your daughter, her green eyes glistening amongst the lights that Negan had set up in his living room. “They’ve always been my favorite.”

“Oh! That sounds good,” Daisy almost bounced with excitement looking to you, reaching for your hands to squeeze over them. “Doesn’t that sound good?”

“It sounds great,” you agreed with your daughter, a weak smile expanding over your features. This was the first Christmas where Daisy looked forward to everything that was going on. “Why don’t you finish up your hot chocolate and then we can get the two of you to bed?”

“Okay,” Daisy eagerly got up from the floor and went to the kitchen where the mug Negan had gotten for her was to drink her hot chocolate. Elizabeth followed her to do the same and you looked to Negan.

“I’ll explain everything when they are in bed,” Negan whispered, reaching out to place his hand in over your knee to give it a firm squeeze. Getting up from the ground, Negan held his hand out to help you stand up from the ground. When he pulled you up, it had you stumbling in closer to his chest. Wrapping his arms loosely around you, Negan snickered and shook his head. “I know you’re falling for me, but this is ridiculous.”

“What?” you exhaled loudly, a tiny laugh falling from your throat. Negan’s right eyebrow arched up, his head tipping to the side while he gazed you over. With a smirk, he shook his head and released you, but you could tell that a warmth had flooded into your face.

He wasn’t wrong. How couldn’t you fall for Negan? After the way he immediately took on your daughter and how good he was with you, it would have been pretty damn hard NOT to fall in love with him. Instead of approaching the subject, Negan went over to the girls to talk to them.

“Alright girls,” Negan grunted, lowering down to wrap his arms around both of them carrying each one of them under his arms. Both girls started giggling while Negan carried them down the hallway toward Elizabeth’s room. Following them, you stopped to watch from the doorway as Negan put the two girls to bed, tucking them in. “Now no funny stuff. You know the deal about tonight. Santa is coming and we all need to go to bed or else he won’t show up.”

“You know, I was thinking,” Elizabeth began, her big eyes staring out at Negan when he reached out to brush his fingers through her hair. “Maybe Santa can make all of us a family this year. This is the first time we’ve been happy since mom passed away.”

“I’d love to have Elizabeth as my sister,” Daisy boasted, gazing out at you and it made a nervous laugh fall from your throat when Negan looked back at you. “And Negan would be great to have as a dad. “

“And you’d be a great mom,” Elizabeth noted causing you to walk into the room and kneel down beside Negan who was smiling. “What do you think?”

“You really like it here, don’t you?” you wondered eliciting an immediate nod and smile from Daisy’s lips.

“And we really love you here,” Negan piped in, his deep voice drawing a chill down your spine. “Elizabeth isn’t wrong. This is the nicest Christmas we’ve had since we lost Lucille. I know it’s been a rough move for both you and Daisy, but we’ve enjoyed having you around.”

“We’ll have to see then,” you noticed the way that Negan’s long eyelashes fluttered. “Santa is very capable of a lot of magic. So you never know what will happen.”

“Better get to sleep,” Negan instructed both of them. He leaned down to press a kiss over Elizabeth’s temple while you did the same with Daisy. “I love you sweetheart.”

“I love you too daddy,” Elizabeth brushed her fingers down over the side of her father’s features. It was amazing to see how good of a father Negan turned out to be because you were so used to someone like Shane that you didn’t know if father’s like Negan were even something that were real.

“See you in the morning girls,” you stood up and followed Negan toward the door hearing the girls giggling when they whispered about things. “Sweet dreams.”

“Goodnight mommy,” Daisy called out with a big yawn while getting more comfortable in the bed. Negan turned the light off and closed the door leaving the two of you standing together in the hallway alone.

“Come here,” Negan reached for your hand which you happily accepted, enjoying the warmth his body radiated when he led you toward the kitchen. Motioning you to wait, Negan grabbed two glasses and headed for the fridge. Pulling out the eggnog, he poured some of it into the cups before digging around in another cabinet. When he revealed the bottle of brandy in his hands, you let out an amused sound. “I think the adults have been adulting long enough, don’t you?”

“Should Santa really be drinking on the job?” you inquired in a teasing fashion when he poured some of the alcohol into the eggnog.

“You’d be surprised the things Santa is capable of,” Negan returned both the alcohol and the eggnog to the places they belonged. Grabbing something to mix the drinks, Negan finished up and grabbed the glasses. Handing one to you, he stepped before you and offered up one of his cheesy big smiles. It made you laugh when you accepted the drink. “Are you okay being stuck here for the night?”

“Stuck?” you repeated the word with a huff, taking a sip of the drink he gave you. “Not exactly how I would explain how I feel about being here. I like it.”

“Yeah?” Negan slurred, his eyebrows bouncing up after he drank down some of his eggnog. “How would you explain it then?”

“Like home,” you whispered, seeing the expression in his features changing when you muttered those words. “I can’t explain it, but every time Daisy and I are here everything feels like it is meant to. I thought coming home would be miserable, but since the first day having you and Elizabeth show up in our lives has been one of the best things we could have asked for. You helped me with Daisy. She was so lost, but with you and your daughter, she’s happy. Happier than I ever saw her when we were with Shane. Christmas was not special back when we were with Shane. It was just another day, but with you? You’ve made it something amazing. And you’ve been so good to her. Better than Shane ever was. You can tell that she’s latched onto you.”

“Because she deserves nothing but the best, and so do you,” Negan reminded her with a sincerity behind his hazel eyes. “Which leads me to the whole Santa thing. I got Daisy some presents since she’s been here so much. I thought it would be nice for her to have some things.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” you finished up with your drink, going over to place the glass in the sink. Negan finished off his drink and moved in beside you.

“I wanted to,” Negan responded, setting his glass next to yours and you turned to face him. There wasn’t much space between the two of you when you cleared your throat.

“Negan, I’m sorry,” you breathed out when you thought about your past together. Your comment made Negan’s head tip to the side and you frowned. “The two of us were so close when we were younger. And then Shane showed up in my life and I just ignored everything between us.”

“Oh,” Negan’s eyebrows bounced up, his hands pressing over the edge of the counter trapping you between his arms while he stared down at you. “It did suck a little bit back then. I was head over heels in love with you, you know that?”

“Really?” you stammered, noticing the way that Negan’s Adam’s apple bounced in his throat. “But what about Lucille?”

“Lucille showed up junior year when you had already ditched me. I don’t regret Lucille. I loved her so fucking much,” Negan claimed with a firm nod of his head, “but I do know that growing up, I always thought I was going to sweep you off your feet and marry you.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you wondered, feeling your throat tightening up when you thought about your past together as teenagers.

“I’m a guy?” Negan shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head about. “When Shane showed up, I just assumed you were more so into football players than you were baseball or basketball players.”

“That wasn’t…I didn’t,” you stammered, finding your thoughts twisted up when Negan hushed you. “I’m so sorry. I wish I would have realized back then how things were because you are so…amazing.”

“Things happened for a reason,” Negan assured you, lifting his right hand to drag his fingers down over the side of your face. Sweeping his thumb over your jawline had a chill flooding down your spine with the warmth of his breath over your lips. “We have two beautiful girls and we would have never had them if we would have realized things sooner. You’re here now.”

“And you still feel the same way?” you inquired seeing the awe in Negan’s eyes when he softly chuckled and nodded his head. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Negan repeated, lowering down enough to capture your lips in a tender caress. It had you tipping up on your toes toward him with his other arm loosely wrapping around your waist. The taste of the eggnog and alcohol lingered on your lips, but you didn’t mind it. Leaning back, Negan’s eyelashes fluttered and charming smile expanded over his handsome features. “You are so beautiful. You know that?”

“So are you,” you circled your fingers over the area where the button was undone on Negan’s pajamas. It made both of you chuckled before Negan grabbed your hand to lead you back toward the living room. Watching with confusion, you saw Negan laying out a blanket before the fire on the floor. “What’s this?”

“Patience,” he responded with a huff, grabbing two of the pillows from the couch and setting them down on the floor. Urging you toward him, he lowered down onto his knees and you followed suit. Laying down on the floor beside the fire, you laid beside Negan cuddling next to him when you got comfortable. Pulling the other blanket he had in over the both of you, he sighed and nuzzled his nose in against your head. “What would you say if I said I want to have you in my life? Like, officially. Not like marriage, immediately. But like dating? I really like spending time with you and being with your daughter. I haven’t dated in a very long time, but I thought…”

Lifting your fingers up, you placed them over Negan’s lips to hear his words come to a halt, “I would say yes.”

A faint kiss was brushed against your fingers before you crawled in over Negan to bring your lips together in a tender sweep. Over and over again the two of you kissed before the fire, each kiss growing in strength.

“You think the girls are asleep?” Negan inquired, listening carefully with his lips parted showing that his breathing was heavy. After taking a minute, you nodded your head and Negan frowned. “Are you sure you want to be doing this with a man who has his nails painted?”

“That makes me want to do that all the more,” you reached for his hand to bring it up to your lips to pepper it with kisses. Snorting out, Negan curled his fingers around the back of your neck to lead you to him. Claiming your lips with his, he carefully rolled you over onto your back and crawled in over you. Plucking open the buttons on the shirt of his pajama shirt had him tremoring over you. Once you had the material separated, you caressed your hands up and over the lengths of his torso, teasing your fingers through the dark hair that covered his flesh. “Can you be quiet?”

“Of course,” Negan hummed, looking down when you dipped your fingers beneath the material of his pajama pants. With a groan, Negan’s eyes fluttered to a close when you wrapped your palm around his manhood, stroking over his flesh in unhurried strokes. “Can you be quiet?”

“Tonight I can be,” you tipped up to kiss over Negan’s jawline hearing him releasing a moan, his fingers dragging down over your sides. Bracing himself, Negan pulled apart the buttons of the pajama shirt you were wearing getting the material separated before getting to his knees. Hooking his fingers into the pajama pants and your panties, he set them beside you and moved in over you after pulling them down your legs. With Negan over you, the skin-to-skin contact felt amazing along with the warmth of the fireplace beside you and it made you tip your head back. Pushing your fingers into the back of Negan’s pants, you managed to get them down far enough seeing that his eyelids grew heavy with want while he stared down at you. Making sure the blankets were over the both of you, Negan got comfortable between your thighs and adjusted his body weight.

“Look at me,” Negan instructed, reaching down with his right hand leading himself to your body. With a soft roll of his hips, Negan was inside of you drawing your hips to arch up toward him. Taking his time to let you get used to him, Negan laid over you and stroked his fingers over the side of your face. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time.”

Taking his time, Negan started to thrust into you, his body’s movements unrushed while he wanted to focus on every part of you. Every so often, you would have to bring his lips to yours to keep you both from making a sound, but it was a romantic moment that one could only dream of having in a romance film. Every movement, every touch, every kiss was meticulous and passionate. It was something you weren’t used to, but you were loving every second of it.

This was a buildup of time and you found yourself thankful that you were able to find Negan again. Now that you were together again, you weren’t ready to separate from him. This was too good to be true, but this was real and you were going to cherish every second of it.

After everything was said and done, you laid with your head over Negan’s chest listening to the sound of his heart beating. Tracing shapes over Negan’s flesh, you couldn’t help but find happiness in this moment.

“I know we have to, but I never want to leave this place,” you declared hearing his raspy laugh follow. Negan pressed a kiss over your head before cuddling you in closer to him. “I love you Negan.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear that since I was eight years old,” Negan stated with a laugh drawing you to lift up to stare out at him. Sucking at his bottom lip, Negan nodded and let out a sigh. “I love you too. You’re the best Christmas present I’ve had in years.”

“And you won’t want to return me after Christmas?” you confirmed eliciting a groan from his lips and he rolled his eyes. “I’m just making sure.”

“No, I like this gift. Very much,” Negan assured you, stroking his thumb over your bottom lip and he couldn’t help but smile. “And I’m not going to give you up. You’re mine now. For good. As long as you’ll have me and my family.”

“I couldn’t think of something I want more,” you whispered, meeting his lips in another kiss. It made Negan bob his head about after you pulled away, his smile contagious. “We’re going to have to get moving soon so Santa can get the presents under that tree.”

“Santa can wait a little while longer,” Negan hushed, pulling you to him again. “I want to hold you for a little while longer. And then Santa can do whatever he wants.”

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @de-gabyconamor @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune @stoneyggirl @xsarcasticwriterx @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03 @sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf @hollyismentallyillhelp @promiscuousbarnes @tone-stark @lanadelnegan

#Negan #Negan Fanfiction #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #Negan x reader #The Walking Dead #twd fanfiction #negan smith #negan x you #negan imagine #Christmas

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loveshotzz · 2 years

Text

There’s a place for me

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Chapter 1/?

Summary: On the run for wrongful murder charges, Eddie finds himself stopping in a sleepy ocean side town far enough from Hawkins where he can lay low for awhile. Running from the people that want him dead, his only hope is that his past doesn’t catch up to him. Especially when he meets the pretty eye’d waitress up the street.

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: slow burn, angst (Eddie hates himself for running) eventual smut, strangers to lovers. My blog is 18 plus.

A/N: this concept was sent as a request by my irl friend @elthreetimes and as soon as I read it, there was no way it could just be a one shot. It needed to be a series. I feel so lucky that you trust me to bring this story to life, and I hope you enjoy this. Also I couldn’t have done this without my hellfire crew @myobmaya @boomhauer @subparwritersuperbreblogger @sweetsweetjellybean for bouncing ideas and characterizations with me. I seriously couldn’t have written this with out you guys. This is the most ambitious story I’ve ever tried, so here goes nothing. Also bonus points for anyone who guess’s who which character Ron is based off of.

*comments, likes, and reblogs would mean so much if you enjoy my work 💘

For days it felt like all Eddie did was drive, the passage of state signs was his only measurement of time. The hours blending together like the lines on the highway, tangerine skies bleeding vermillion the colors remind him of Chrissy eyes after they exploded inside her head. The beauty of it all being taken away as the image of her crumpled body replays over and over in his mind. With no destination he was driving on auto pilot, only deciding where he was going the third night in.

Hair dripping from the storm outside, his fingers feel bruised from switching out his plates for the third time. Sitting in the back of his van tucked away on the side of a dirt road somewhere in West Virginia, it was the first time in his life he was thankful his dad had taught him a thing or two about evading the law. Stripping off his wet jacket he knew he needed to find somewhere to go. He couldn’t keep driving aimlessly, he didn’t have the money for that. The only cash he had was whatever he’d gotten from his deals earlier in the week, thankful he didn’t spend it on the re up that was suppose to happen the night before everything changed.

He’d never seen the ocean, an elusive place he could only visit in his dreams. Stopped on the boarder between West Virginia and Pennsylvania he wasn’t that far from the east coast. Using his lighter to illuminate the road map he’d found stashed in a messy wad in his glove box he guessed it was maybe a 10 hour drive from the coast. Throwing the idea of sleep out the window with wet clothes making it impossible for him to get comfortable he decided to do what he’s done this whole time, drive.

Watching the early morning sun slowly seep into through the storm clouds the grey sky fades to a more comforting cerulean. Eddie drove with the kind of determination that he wish he’d used to pass high school. Maybe he wouldn’t even be in this mess if he’d just graduated when he was suppose to. Convincing himself he would have been long gone playing guitar in any city that wasn’t Hawkins, he lets himself wallow in self pity till his tires bring him to the ocean.

——

Finding his way into a nameless town that wasn’t even listed on his map, it made Hawkins look like New York City. A small strip set on top a broken battered road - he swerves to miss the never ending onslaught of pot holes. The few shops they had were attached to a single grocery store, the sides of the buildings eroding away from the misted wind. Snorting to himself - of course this is where he ends up, a beach side ghost town. Eddie catches the Help Wanted sign hanging in the window of the diner that lay nestled at the end. Sticking out from the rest, the way it’s lit almost makes it look like it glowing against it’s drab surroundings. It was also the only place he’d seen with any sign of human life.

The lights of The Sleepy Hill motel greet him like the four seasons, when his tired van pulls into the mostly empty lot. The flashing vacancy sign is a promise of a bed, his bones worn down and sore the weight of everything finally kicking in. When his dirty white Reebok’s hit the ground his arms reach for the sky in a kitten stretch of his whole body, eyes closing he relishes in the pops he feels in his spine.

Inhaling a deep breath the salt in the air stings his nose, the mist off the shore making his bangs stick to his forehead. Pulling a runway strand of hair from his cheek he finally takes everything in. On one side of him there was nothing but an endless expanse of tumultuous waves raging against the shore line. The storm clouds he had out run were making their way back through, the lingering bitterness of winter still hanging thick in the March air. It wasn’t like the kind of warmness he’d seen on the postcards, or the in the stories that Rick told, this wasn’t Venice Beach. The sight of a light house in the distance brings a slight feeling of comfort when he watches the strobes of light break through the purple hues of the darkness starting to set in over the horizon. Eyes lingering he lets himself sit in it for awhile watching the waves crash into the broken brick holding it up from falling into whatever laid in the water beneath it. When he turns his attention back to the town that took him less then a minute to drive through, the red “EAT HERE” sign that spun on top of the diner mocks his stomach when he realizes it had been almost a whole day with out any real food.

Slamming his car door shut, he takes quick strides to the back making a mental note to drive to the next town over at some point tomorrow to switch out his plates again, it was too risky to try to do it with any car in a town like this. Eyes darting nervously he opens his back doors with shudder that rings out over the sound of the waves. Furrowing his brows in concentration he starts digging though the blankets in the back searching for the outfit he’d found balled up a few nights ago. Forgotten about after a sleep over at Gareth’s, the memory of a time where his life wasn’t like this hurts in a way that he can’t explain. Maybe he wasn’t as miserable as he thought he was — all the little things he took for granted now at the forefront of his mind.

He hadn’t let himself think about Wayne. Maybe it was the adrenaline that kept his mind from going there, or that thing he’d heard about when your own mind blacks things out to protect you, but he hadn’t thought about what that must’ve been like for him to come home to that.

A life less mangled girl he didn’t know and a nephew that no one was going to find. Eddie just ran without a single thought as to what that would mean for him. Scowling to himself he blames the Munson blood that runs through his veins. Images of his Uncle slumped over with tired shoulders, shuffling into the trailer in the early morning hours when the sun is just peaking through the trees. Boots heavy from another double at work, walking right into the nightmare that Eddie left him with.

Eye’s burning he holds back his tears grabbing the balled up shirt and jeans giving them a sniff. They didn’t smell clean but they smelt better then what he was wearing now and that was just going to have to do. Fingers crossed the motel clerk would let him rent a room with out an ID, he was desperate for a shower. Shoving the garments into his backpack he takes another deep breath ignoring the sting this time, closing his eyes he fights away all the emotions that are ready to spill out. Clearing his throat he cracks his neck before slamming the metal doors shut.

Half way across the pavement Eddie stops in his tracks when he see’s the guy behind the counter. Not much older then him there was something oddly familiar about him, when he glances up catching Eddie in his line of sight. Shaggy brown hair parted down the middle and big teeth protruding from below his upper lip, his beady eyes squint as he tries to figure out what Eddie was doing. The sound of a distant boat horn is what makes his feet finally move again, the boy behind the counter standing up as Eddie closes the distance.

There’s a small chime when the glass door swings open, the warmth of the lobby heats him in a way he hadn’t realized he missed until its hits his skin. There’s an awkwardness that hangs thick in the air when the door closes behind him. Eddie hadn’t talked to another living soul in days besides mumbling the amount of cash and on what pump at gas stations. The man behind the desk who’s name tag said ‘Ron’ was staring at him like he was trying to pin point something familiar about the metal head, and it was making Eddie’s palms sweat. The anxiety of being caught tightening in his chest. Scratching the back of his neck he clears his throat.

“Hi — hey, man I’m uhh- I’m looking to get a room?” He tries to hide how startled he is at his own voice having not heard it in hours.

Ron’s silence doesn’t break much to his dismay as he takes in Eddie’s appearance. Dark eyes trail over his disheveled form before flicking back towards his van in the parking lot. It wasn’t just his palms that were sweating now.

“What’s your deal? You some kinda rockstar or something?” Ron finally breaks his silence, stunned it takes Eddie a minute to comprehend what exactly he’s being asked. When he finally wraps his head around the question he has to actively stop the snort that threatens to come out.

Looking down at his wrinkled hellfire shirt, the cotton is stained with a mixture of dirt and grime from the nights in his van. The whites of his Reebok’s barely visible under the dried up mud from last nights storm. Having caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass of the door on his way in, he knew his wild mane looked like a bird had laid nest in it.

“Excuse me, what?”

Ron sucks his teeth shrugging.

“You just look like that Van Halen guy, but there’s no way you’d be here if you were actually him I’d reckon.” He says matter of factly before sitting back down in his desk. “And he wouldn’t look like he just rolled around in a pigs play pin. Or maybe he would? I don’t know the life style of a celebrity.” He adds with a wave of his hand.

Stunned and completely unsure of how to respond to the man in front of him, the conversation was not going a direction Eddie had even seen coming. Opening and closing his mouth a few times, he finally finds his voice again.

“Yeah, not Eddie Van Halen. My name is Eddie though, Eddie umm Henderson.” He winces internally when Dustin’s last name leaves his mouth.

“Eddie Henderson? That’s not very rock and roll.” Ron tuts before looking up at Eddie from his computer.

Feeling his frustration start to reach it’s tipping point, his fists clench at his sides before they release. Running a hand over his face he exhales sharply through his nose mustering up enough self control to answer politely.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Eddie pointedly looks at his name tag before adding with a curt smile. “Ron.”

Arching a brow, the man at the front desk brings his attention back to the computer screen with a hum. The awkwardness from before becomes almost suffocating in the small room. The growing silence between them lasting long enough that Eddie starts to panic.

“Look man, I’m just trying to get a room for a few nights then I’ll be out of your hair okay? I’m not some rockstar who’s gonna trash the place. I’m a nobody.”

Eyes never leaving the screen the sound of the mouse clicking is the only noise filling the space.

“Got an I.D. Eddie Henderson?” Ron’s tone is flat when finally looks up at eddie through the hood of his lashes, his own irritation clear on his blemished face.

The question he knew was coming still stiffens his body when it leaves his mouth, but the thought of another night sprawled out on the damp blankets on the metal floor of his van is enough for the burning sensation of tears to sting his tired eyes again. Shuffling on his feet, he readjusts his backpack.

“I’ve got cash, I can pay for at least two days up front.” Stepping closer to the desk his fingers drum against the counter top nervously, doe eyes pleading to show him a shred of mercy.

“No, I.D. No ro—“

Digging the 200 of the 250 he had left from his pocket, he slaps it on the desk in a crumpled lump. His survival instincts kicking in with a new level of stubbornness he didn’t know he had. He wasn’t leaving until he had keys to a bed and a shower.

“Please, man. I’m begging you.” The tears that had been threatening fall finally breach his strong hold, a single droplet landing onto his bottom lashes. He wipes it away quickly with the back of his hand, sniffing he closes his eyes collecting himself again. “I’ll keep to myself, you won’t even know I’m here.”

Ron’s eyes soften at the desperation is Eddie’s voice, despite policy there was something sincere about the mysterious stranger standing in front of him.

“200 will get you three nights.” Reaching over the counter he grabs the crumbled up bills before standing up, turning to the wall of keys behind him.

Relief floods his body as he watches Ron’s fingers skim over the glistening metal dangling from the dark blue wall. Blinking back tears the tense muscles in his shoulders release some of the stress they’d been carrying for the last 700 miles.

“Room 10, it’s at the very end. No parties rockstar.” Handing over the single key, it hung from a round burgundy keychain, a faded gold 10 stamped onto the plastic. Eddie can’t help but actually laugh this time, his mood lifted for a fleeting moment.

“Seriously, thank you. You won’t regret this I promise.” Snatching the key before he had a chance to change his mind, he clasps both hands together in front of his face bowing slightly in appreciation.

“There’s free coffee in here every morning. If you bring your key to the diner up the road you get a ten percent discount. We don’t have laundry but there’s a laundromat next to the grocery store, it’s open weird hours you’ll have to check the sign.” Ron prattles on, his voice becoming more professional now that Eddie was a paying guest.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Walking backwards Eddie kicks the door open, the chill in the air sending a shiver down his spine.

“Nice to meet you Eddie Henderson.”

—

The walls of the motel room match the ones in the front office, the sapphire paint chipping at the edges of the ivory trim. The single bed in the middle was covered in a crimson duvet, two fluffed pillows propped against the black head board tempting him enough that he almost throws the idea of a shower and food out the window. Toeing off his shoes, the socks that should be a crisp white are the color of ash and it reminds him just how dirty he really is. Dropping his bag on the floor he starts peeling off his clothes making his way to wash off the last 72 hours.

A satisfied groan falls from between his chapped lips when the heat of the water hits his skin. Tilting his head back he lets it run through his thick tangled waves, pooling at his feet the water is tinged brown. Turning he faces the stream with closed eyes letting it wash over his face as he tries to find peace in his thoughts. The fear seeing Chrissy suspended in the air every time he closed his eyes was what prevented him from the sleep his strained body needed.

After spending longer then he should wrapped up in the warmth of the shower, he can’t ignore the growling in his stomach, remembering the discount at the diner he forces himself out.

The cheap blow dryer makes his hair frizz with more volume then he was used to, holding it down with both hands on either side of his head he sighs exasperated when he lets it go and it bounces back with more force.

Whatever, he didn’t know anyone here and he wasn’t going to be around long.

Changing into his cleaner clothes, he pats down his jeans feeling something in his back pocket. Reaching behind him his fingers come in contact with the thin plastic foiling of a crumpled half full pack of cigarettes he’d left in a drunk mess one night.

“Fuck. Yes.” He mutters to himself feeling a little more like a person rather then just a passenger in his own body for the first time in the last three days.

Grabbing his jacket off the bed nimble fingers search for his lighter once the leather is wrapped around his shoulders. Smirking when he finds it, he heads for the door grabbing his key off the off the dresser. Turning around before he leaves he takes one good look at his new home for the next few days. It wasn’t much but it was better then hiding off on the side roads begging to get caught.

——

The rocks crunch under his feet as he walks up the wounded asphalt towards the diner, the mist in the air taming the poof in his hair as he struggles to get the cigarette lit. The hint of tobacco on his tongue teasing him as the gust off the shore snuffs out the flame every single time.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” dangling in his lips he stops for a second to switch positions so his back was facing the direction of the wind. “You’ve got to be shitting me.” Grumbling he snatches it out of his mouth in a huff before shoving it back in his pocket. Keeping his hands dug in into his jacket his face is set in a hard glare as he hits the parking lot of the diner. The inside gleams brightly and it’s the stark contrast to the dark moody-ness of his thoughts and the outside.

There’s families gathered in the windows laughing in the warmth of the light and he does his best to ignore the pang in his chest. Shoving down the realization of just how alone he really is now, he wasn’t ready to mentally unpack that yet.

Opening the single glass door of the entrance, the sound of the oldies station plays under the low hum of everyone’s chatter. Red vinyl covering the seats, a row of booths line the outside, the white walls barely visible decorated, covering almost every inch in various collectibles. The long bar attached to the kitchen extends down the length of the restaurant lined with stools.

Unlike the booths, the bar was filled with truckers and waderers. Hunched over their food alone in their thoughts. Taking a seat where he belonged the chain of his wallet clinks loudly against the metal of the stool.

The menu was already laid out on the formica counter top, just a page long the corners of the lamination are creased after obvious years of use. His eyes strain to read the red words that pop out against the white of the paper, the sleepless nights slowly catching up to his body. He tries pulling it further from his face to get a better look completely unaware of the pair of eyes watching him.

“Need some help with the menu?” A melodious voice breaks his concentration. Looking for the owner he comes face to face with you.

Almost as if someone knocked the wind out of him the softness of your features stuns him enough that he can’t find his voice. The dress you wear as a uniform wraps tightly around your curves and he fights his eyes from wandering. Hand on the counter in front of him you lean into his space, the smell of maple syrup hits his nose — sickly sweet he wants nothing more then to close his eyes and bask in it. Your warm gaze lands on his face and it feels like he’s looking up at the bright sun on a summer day. You didn’t look like you belonged here.

Realizing he hadn’t answered you, he clears his throat trying to shake his nerves. He was never good at talking to girls, especially not girls that looked like you and definitely not under these circumstances.

“You’re new around here.” You grin eyeing the slightly disheveled boy in front of you.

“Do you have burgers?” Blurting out his question he closes his eyes embarrassed when he realizes he’s ignored your observation too caught up to think straight. “Sorry.”

Laughing sweetly you take the menu from his hands finger tips brushing against his, the connection making his cheeks blossom pink.

“Sure do, how do you want it?” Pulling out your pocket sized note book from your apron, his eyes catch the red of your nail polish and for some reason it makes his cheeks deepen to match.

“Medium is —uh, is fine.” Scratching the back of his neck he watches the way your pen swoops gracefully against the paper.

“Fries okay?” Looking up at him from under your lashes his breath hitches loud enough for you to hear, the reaction making you bite your lip in a smile.

“Yeah, fries are, fries are great.” Exhaling loudly he gives you a tight lipped smile wishing he could bury his head in the sand.

“Anything to drink?” Ripping the page you turn around slipping it through the small window of the kitchen behind you. The line cook grabs it with a curt nod before you bring the full force of your stare back to him.

“Water is fine.” The sentence is short but he gets it out with out a hitch at least. Rubbing his hands nervously on his thighs he catches the mischievous glint dance around your eyes.

A small knowing smirk plays on your lips before walking away to the drink station at the other end of the long bar.

“Real fucking smooth.” Eddie grumbles to himself catching the attention of the trucker seated next to him.

“If that makes you feel any better son, I think she thought it was cute.” The gruffness of his voice reminds him of his Uncle, the few moments with you had made him almost forget about why he was here in the first place. Guilt slowly starting to eat away at him as he tries to re focus his thoughts, the familiar sting coming back to his eyes.

Before Eddie has a chance to respond your sliding the glass in front of him, eyes never leaving his as you pull out a straw from your front pocket. This time he’s strong enough to hold your gaze even if the red on his cheeks spreads to his neck.

“It’ll be like 15 minutes, Freddy’s pretty quick.” Nodding back towards the kitchen, Eddie tries to listen to you but he’s too focused on the sheen of your lip gloss. A sharp elbow to his side snaps him out of his trance, his new friend trying to help him out.

“Oh— okay, thanks.” Dropping his eyes down he brings all of his attention to unwrapping his straw, silently scolding himself for being even less smooth then the first interaction. The only reason he knows you’ve walked away is the loss of sweetness that settles in the air in your presence.

Shoving the straw in his drink, the ice clinks loudly against the glass before taking a big gulp. When the water washes over his tongue in a wave of rejuvenation, he closes his eyes humming in satisfaction sucking more then half the glass down before pushing it away with a wipe of his mouth. He can feel what the needed hydration does for him in his finger tips, his brain function starting to sharpen.

Chocolate eyes finding you again, he watches the way you move around the restaurant with ease. Everything you were doing seemed second nature, bending down to meet the kids at eye level he watched the families stare up at you with the same adoration on their faces. It wasn’t just him you effected like that, it was every one.

Cleaning off one of the booths, he watches you bend over the table — selfishly letting his eyes wander your body in the way he’d fought off before. Expertly stacking the dirty plates in your arms, you shove the cash tip they’d left in your apron. Turning on your heel you catch his stare, stopping for a brief moment before your lips tug up in a way that makes him avert his gaze — but even he knew it was too late. He’d been caught.

Closing his eyes when you walk by he inhales deeply, chasing the comfort your scent brings. You smelt like Sunday mornings with his mom, the only childhood memories he was fond of. He watched as you disappeared through the double doors of the kitchen, loud voices greeting you once you were hidden in the back. It was obvious you’d been here for awhile. The urge to try and piece together your story is a welcoming distraction from his own.

You aren’t back there long before you push back through with a toothy grin, shaking your head in amusement. An irrational hint of jealousy settles deep in his gut at whoever was making you laugh like that. The high pitch ding of the kitchen bell brings his attention back to the small window, a burger and fries so warm he could see the steam coming off the bun sit waiting for you to collect. Brain going empty he can feel himself start to salivate, his hunger taking front and center in his mind now.

Too focused on his food he has better self control of his eyes when you go to grab it. Sliding the plate in front of him Eddie mumbles a thank you before snatching the burger, ignoring the way it heats under his finger tips.

Taking a giant bite he immediately opens his mouth at the shock of the burn, his initial reaction to spit it out is stopped when he looks up to see you watching him with crossed arms as you lean against the back counter.

“I would have told you to give it a minute, but I thought that was obvious.” Teasing him, Eddie fans his open mouth searching for reprieve only swallowing it when the pain subsides. Taste buds inflamed and seared he takes another gulp of water basking in the way it soothes his mouth.

“Sorry, I haven’t really eaten all day.” Grabbing a fry he dunks it into the small ceramic cup filled with ketchup before tossing it into his mouth. Curious eyes land on yours making him wonder what’s keeping your attention as he eats with out manners.

“So, what are you running from?” Choking on his food at your question his eyes go wide, maybe the news had made it’s way over here.

“W-what do you mean?” Swallowing loudly his appetite suddenly disappears.

“I mean, I’ve never seen you before. People either move here to run from something or they’re just passing through.” You shrug as if your question was nonchalant. “So are you a runner or a wanderer?”

“What are you?” Eddie counters back arching a brow before taking another sip of water.

The smirk you give him is almost devilish when you push yourself off the counter invading his space again. The smell he can’t get enough of swirling around him in a dizzying effect.

“I’m a runner.” There’s something hidden behind your eyes that he can’t decipher when you give him your answer unashamed. “I told you mine, it’s your turn now.”

Of course you weren’t from here, how could you be?

“Runner.” He says simply already nervous he shared too much. Averting his eyes he plops another fry in his mouth before he remembers that this 15 dollar meal was gonna put a significant hole in his remaining funds.

Looking back up from his food he sees you’re already half way down the bar walking he hasn’t even asked you about the Now Hiring sign dangling from the window.

“Hey! — I mean wait.” Eddie’s outburst catches you and half the diners attention and despite his embarrassment he doesn’t miss the way your lips curve up when you make your way back to him.

“Yes?” Raising your eyebrows in question you plant both hands on the counter top in front of him leaning forward a stance that keeps his Eddie swimming.

“I saw your help wanted sign in the window.” Clearing his throat for more confidence “How would a runner apply for said job?”

“You haven’t even told me your name, and you don’t even know what we’re hiring for.” All valid points leave your mouth and he nods with a scratch of his head.

“It’s Eddie, Eddie Henderson.” He said it once and now he just has to roll with it, he’ll apologize to Dustin if he ever sees him again. “I’m not picky, I’ll do anything. Just in desperate need for some cash.”

“Well Eddie Henderson, I guess that means you’re planning on staying here long enough to get work huh?” Tongue poking the side of your cheek he can tell there’s ideas bouncing around in your head.

“Yeah, for a little bit.” Eddie didn’t want to tell you that his time here was numbered in the single digits or that he needed the work so he wouldn’t become completely homeless in the next few days while he ran from the law.

Blowing out a loud breath, you drum your hands on the counter before turning around towards the white board behind you with various names and schedules scribbled on it. He wondered which was you. Grabbing an application from the stack that was pinned on the board you turn back around around pulling a pen from your pocket. Clicking it open you set it down for him to fill out.

Eddie wastes no time in scribbling out his fake information, chest swelling with excitement. He didn’t think it would be this easy and despite your stare making him nervous he could feel his own smile pull at his lips just for a moment.

“I’m just gonna need an ID to show my boss.”

The sentence leaves your mouth and Eddie wants to fucking scream, his grip on the pen becoming so hard he was close to snapping it in half. It was an issue at the motel why wouldn’t be an issue here? It’s not like he didn’t have one, it just had all of his real information on it. Information that had the potential to get him caught.

“I- I don’t have one.” It’s quiet when it leaves his mouth voice shaking and defeated. Meeting your eyes again he notices how they soften as if you could read his mind.

“You moved to a new town without any ID?” You question is gentle when it comes out watching the way his shoulders slump. The first smile you’d seen grace his handsome features slowly fading away.

“I’m afraid I can’t give this to him with out some kind of proof as to who you are.” It’s lame when it comes out of your mouth and you wish it could be different when you watch his big doe eyes glass over.

“It’s fine, I’ll figure something out. I appreciate the help none the less.” Eddie gives slight nod pushing the application away, his brain already starting to reel with no back up plan lined up. He feels fucking stupid.

Unsure how to comfort the cute mysterious stranger you shove your pen back in your pocket giving him your most apologetic look. The air shifting into something that felt like you should give him privacy— you walk away as he digs for his wallet.

Throwing a twenty on the table, he’s too embarrassed to even ask for the discount. He takes one last big bite of his burger before goes to stand up, the sudden urge to sleep becoming over powering with the hope a better idea would come to him tomorrow.

“Hey, actually.” Your honeyed voice drips through his very obvious despair.

Stopping him before he had a chance to leave, Eddie’s chestnut eyes meet yours in question.

Biting at your bottom lip, he can tell your nervous to ask him whatever was bouncing around in your head.

“Do you know anything about cars?” The thought of your late grandmothers car sitting motionless in your drive way comes to mind and how desperate you were for a pair of working wheels.

“I mean I’m no mechanic, but I can do the basics.” He offers back with a shrug.

“Good enough for me, I live by the beach not far from the motel down the road, it’s a shitty yellow house you can’t miss it. I’ve got a car you can come look at tomorrow, if you think you can fix it I’ll hire you myself.” Eddie doesn’t know why you’re being so nice to him but he’s not going to turn you down the offer. Even if he can’t fix it, he sure as shit was going to figure out how.

“Alright, sure yeah, I’ll come by.” Trying to contain his excitement the smile you’d already missed comes creeping back to his face.

“Perfect, I’ll see you around 10? I’ve gotta work at 4 so that should be plenty of time for you to come take a look yeah?” Not wanting to tease that six hours is plenty of time to do a normal check up on a car he just nods instead.

“I’ll be there at 10.” With a nod of his head and the first genuine smile on his face in days, he pushes back out into the developing storm.

——

Head swirling with the events of the day the cheap motel bed moans under his weight as he stares up at the water marks on the ceiling tile. The feathers of the pillows underneath him bring back the heaviness of his eyelids as all the muscles in his body finally relax. The fear of sleep slowly slipping to the back of his mind when the softness of your smile replays on a loop behind closed eyes.

——-

Taglist: @newlips @bimbobaggins69 @munsonology @triplethreat77 @edsforehead @manda-panda-monium @emotionaldreamer @eddiesprincess86 @micheledawn1975 @lil-graveling @b-irock @munsonmunster

If I missed anyone please let me know!

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paintyoureyeswithavividmind · 1 year

Text

close to home | chapter twenty seven

plot: the reader throws herself into work to keep her grief at bay, and helps get everyone ready for their journey north

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 2,496 Warnings: violence, blood, typical twd, A/N: thank you for reading!!!

It had been two days since Beth’s death, and every day started out the same. You were okay when you woke up, then you remembered, and you wanted to cry. Then you were busy with the day and were able to get through it. Then, you lay down to sleep and remembered all over again and cried. Then it would repeat itself.

You learned about Rick’s plans on going to Virginia for Beth, and you immediately agreed to it. You wanted to honor your little cousin in the only way you knew how. You wanted her death to mean something. If you got Noah back to his family, his home, then it would.

But the group had things to do before the big move. You needed better transportation, and you needed supplies. So on the last day before you left, you were all busy getting ready.

Two supply groups were formed and would head in opposite directions. You’d travel twenty-five miles, see what you could get, and then come back. You were all due before sunset, and if you weren’t back, the remaining group would come looking.

You were with Michonne, Carol, Rick, and Daryl. Glenn, Maggie, Rosita, Sasha, and Tara would be the second group. Carl, Eugene, Tyreese, and Abraham would stay back at the campsite with Judith and Tora, and would wait. Rick wanted you to stay back, but you couldn’t. Besides, you were feeling better. Physically, at least.

Your group took one of the cars, the other group took the other car, and the campsite group stayed with the truck. It would offer the most protection in case something happened.

You were sitting in the backseat with Michonne and Carol and had been for a while now. The road was mostly clear, and after about fifteen minutes of Rick’s crazy driving, you approached a town.

“I’m thinkin’ we divide into two groups. We need food, water, and gas. We need stuff for Judith, too.” Rick said as he parked the car. “We also need some cars. The van will hold a decent amount of us, but we’ll need two more cars. I don’t think this one is makin’ the trip, and I’d rather not get stuck on the road with it.”

You climbed out of the car, your hand gripping your machete as you spotted a lone walker. You waited a second before approaching it, taking it down quickly. The rest of the group was taking out some supplies the group had scavenged the past few days--which was nearly nothing, though Rosita scored big when she found some empty gas containers.

“Michonne and I will look for food. You three try and get your hands on a car. Meet back here at midday, and we’ll reassess if we want to go back in for more.” Rick said.

You all nodded and made the journey into the town. It mainly seemed deserted, with a few walkers here and there that were quickly taken out. Soon, Michonne and Rick bid their goodbyes, and the three of you were left to scavenge.

Twenty minutes later, you were breathing deeply and covering the sore wound as Carol took the last walker down. It’d only taken a few minutes but it felt like more.

“There’s gotta be keys inside the shop,” Carol said. “You two pick a car, and then we’ll try and figure it out from there. I’m going to try and siphon some gas. Hollar if you need help.”

The three of you split up as you searched the small car dealership. When you’d seen the logo of a common car manufacturer, you felt like it was a sign from God. The lot was pretty full, and most car dealerships had cars with full tanks.

You returned to where most of the SUVs were, Daryl, walking slowly behind you and making sure nothing was around. Your gun was heavy and solid against your thigh, and you drummed your fingers against it a few times as you walked.

Your eyes scanned the few remaining SUVs, and you smiled when you saw the biggest one. It was an old Acadia, and it reminded you of the one your mom used to drive. You walked up to the door, wiping dirt away with your hand and then wiping your hand on your pants.

“This will hold seven of us. We got seventeen, including Judith….” You trailed off, checking to see if the door was unlocked. It was, and you stuck your head into the car. “Seems like it was pretty new.”

Daryl walked to the passenger side door and looked in the glove box and visors. A pair of keys fell out, and you smiled at Daryl. He handed them to you, and you started the car. It took a second, but it started, and you sighed with relief.

“Tank is full, which is a relief. You might want to check the engine. It's been here since the start. Imma look for another seven-seater.”

Daryl nodded, “Shouting distance,”

You rolled your eyes but nodded before leaving. It was quiet, and the dealership seemed mostly untouched--which you were thankful for. You glanced back at Daryl, watching him sort through what was probably a dusty engine. You paused momentarily, watching the muscles in his arm contort as he looked through the machine.

Shaking your head, you looked across the lot to Carol, who was siphoning the gas from a car. You then walked around, looking for another bigger car to hopefully get you all to Virginia. Unfortunately, the rest of the SUVs weren’t worth trying, so you helped Daryl get the car out of the spot and park it at the front of the lot. Carol met up with you with a full container of gas, and after setting it in the trunk, you drove the car off the lot.

“Okay, so we got a car and some gas. We just need food and water. I think we should see if we can get some clothes. I’ve got blood on here that’s so old and stained that nothing gets it out.” You said as you drove.

“There’s a Goodwill; looks like a coffee shop next to it,” Carol said, leaning into the front and pointing.

“We should see if we could get Judith some clothes too. Maybe a car seat, too, if we could. I’m sure Rick would love that,” You said.

After parking, Carol went to the coffee shop while you and Daryl checked out the front of the store. A few walkers dumped into the glass, and you and Daryl worked carefully to kill them. It wasn’t a very big store anyway.

“Smells like shit in here,” You said, looking around the store.

He snorted, “Ain’ like it always smells.”

You nodded in agreement and walked down the aisles of clothes. You started at the pants, grabbing a few pairs the group's women could use and stuffing them into a bag you’d found at the front of the shop. You weren’t sure what everyone’s sizes were, and everyone being nearly starved didn't help. You did your best to fill up some clean shirts, too, even a few sports bras you hoped would be good.

You found a few things for yourself to change into, and after making sure Daryl was across the store, you quickly changed.

A few more minutes of searching later, you approached Daryl. He was grabbing a few plastic water containers in the kitchen area. “Here, I found these for you. Will these fit you?” You asked, showing him the clothes you’d found for him.

“What?”

“You need new clothes. Those ones are disgusting. Go, try them on. I’m going to look for Judith. And don’t argue with me.”

You handed them over to him and went to the baby area without another word. You quickly grabbed a few onesies, shorts, and shirts that would fit her, with room to grow. You grabbed some socks and shoes that looked right. Unfortunately, there was no baby food, but this was something. You even found a car seat, and added it to the growing pile of supplies you made in the middle of the store.

When Daryl met you, he had changed into newer clothes. They were just a pair of dark pants, a shirt he’d already torn the sleeves off, and his vest. But he looked better.

“Did you grab some stuff for all the guys?” You asked.

“Huh?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “We should grab some shirts for the guys. So they could change too.”

“I ain’ doin’ all that,”

You rolled your eyes and walked to the men’s section. It took about ten minutes for you to find stuff that would fit them all--since they were all different sizes. But you had enough shirts for them and wouldn’t even bother trying to guess pants sizes. At least all the women in the group were similar. And you had no idea how to look for men’s clothes.

After adding them to the pile, you walked towards the employee door and slowly pushed through, checking the small break room before entering. There were some dusty tables and two vending machines in the back. You started laughing when you saw them. They were still nearly full.

“Daryl!” You yelled, grabbing your machete.

The door swung open after a few seconds, and he came in with his bow raised but lowered it when he saw your face.

“Food,” You said, “Help me?”

Daryl looked at you, of course, unspoken on his lips. So he nodded and took the arrow out of the crossbow and then used the butt of it to break open the glass.

“Careful,” He said quietly as you reached in, pulling out everything and shoving it into one of your bags.

“Mhm,” You hummed, grabbing candy bars, bags of chips, pop-tarts, and granola bars. It wasn’t the healthiest of foods, but it was more than you had. You grabbed a blueberry pop-tart and ripped it open. It was stale when you took a bite, but you moaned at the taste anyway. “Oh my God,”

Daryl shook his head in amusement as he busted the other vending machine and pulled out all the water bottles.

“Here, eat,” You said, handing him the other pop-tart. He tried to refuse, but you forced it on him. “You gotta take care of yourself, too, Daryl. Hand me one of those sodas.”

“They probably taste like shit,” He said.

You shrugged, taking the soda from him and sitting on one of the tables. A meal of stale pop-tarts and flat soda wasn’t what you had in mind today, but it was like finding a little slice of heaven in the hell you’ve been in.

Once you finished your food and made Daryl drink, you went to grab the bags. The one with the water bottles was too heavy, and you barely lifted it off the ground. “Ugh,” You groaned. “You take this one.”

Daryl laughed quietly and you looked over at him. Hearing him laugh was a rarity and you loved when he did.

“C’mon, Carol’s probably wonderin’ where we at,” He said.

It took you two a good few minutes to load up all your supplies in the trunk, and you were sweating and aching when it was over. The truck was packed, and you tossed the car seat in the back. Before Daryl closed the trunk, you swiped a bag of chips.

“It’s our reward for all the work we did,” You said, opening it up. Before you could even take a chip, Daryl swiped it from you and took some himself. “Asshole,” You said.

He laughed again and handed the bag back to you after taking a few more.

“Bags are mostly air anyway, so you owe me,” You said.

“Let’s go check on Carol,” He said.

You followed him as you ate handfuls at a time. You’d been starving since yesterday, and you couldn’t stop yourself from eating the shitty chips.

The coffee shop was small, and Carol was inside. She’d found a decent amount of supplies in here. She’d found a few jugs of vegetable oil, cornmeal, and grains. An industrial size thing of oats. There were two can openers and some lighters. Nothing that you’d all be able to just open and eat, but it was better than nothing.

“I found you some clothes,” You told Carol, grabbing some of the supplies.

Carol smiled at you, “You’re my new favorite.”

***

By midday, you were waiting in the new car with all your supplies at the meeting point. Michonne and Rick weren’t back yet, but there was still time. You were sitting on top of the front of the car, leaning against the front window. Daryl had gone off into the woods to see if he could do some hunting for a few minutes.

Carol was pacing back and forth on the road.

“They’ll be back. It’s Rick and Michonne.” You said.

Carol nodded, “Yeah, I know. I hope they found water.”

You sat up and squinted in the sunlight. “We’ll figure it out if they didn’t.”

Carol turned back at you. “You told Daryl.”

You knew exactly what she was talking about. “I needed to… needed to tell someone, you know?”

She nodded and crossed her arms. “I understand. I’m glad. He asked about it. It was nice talking to someone about it.” She admitted.

You were about to lean back when you heard a car and watched as a car sped over the hill toward you. You didn’t need to even attempt to worry about who it was--Rick’s driving was a dead giveaway.

The car slowed as they approached, and when Rick put it in park, they both got out. They looked like they had a bit of trouble but were okay.

“How’d it go?” You asked them.

“We found a small apartment building. Probably only ten units. Single floor.” Rick said, “We only cleared a room before heading back. There are probably two dozen or so walkers there. Where’s Daryl?”

“He went to see if he could catch anything. He’ll be back soon. He said he’d be gone for twenty.” Carol said.

“Did you get stuff from the apartment?” You asked.

Michonne nodded, “Yeah, they had a decent amount of food.” You knew exactly what that meant. Whoever it was, they killed themselves early on.

You slide off the front of the car, ignoring the slight ache on your side. “So you wanna clear it?”

“I’d like to. We have the time. How did you guys do? I see you got a car.”

“We found a decent amount. Oh, I got some clean shirts. Michonne, even got some pants.” You said, “Not for you, Rick, sorry.”

“I’ll take a shirt. You won’t see me complaining,”

#daryl x y/n #daryl x reader #daryl dixion x reader #daryl fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #twd #daryl twd #daryl x you

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