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attic-club-sandwich · 1 year

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How they are Handling your Disappearance. Hello all, get ready for some more Nightbringer Angst! This is a little drabble (bullet point style) of how I think the "Present Day Demon Brothers" are handling your sudden disappearance. Honestly I hate thinking too deeply about NB, it brings me to tears. I can't even imagine the pain and anxiety the brothers are feeling without knowing where their beloved human went and why. Anyways, grab your tissues and I hope you enjoy! Feedback and reblogs are super appreciated!

Taglist: @delphi-dreamin @bite-sized-devil @sassykattery @amberrskiies @obey-me-posts @a-hidden-gem @otomefoxystar @siofrantic

Part 2 : Side Characters

Part 3: MC Returns

Rose divider by @/firefly-graphics

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They’ll always remember the exact day and time you disappeared. It was their day off from RAD, and you had been in the Devildom since Solomon had brought you by for some training sessions. You practically begged the sorcerer to allow you to visit the House of Lamentation, and Solomon happily obliged. You really didn't have to convince him too much, though. The brothers were so happy and surprised to see you again so soon, and they had planned on taking you out for dinner that evening. Except you never showed. They spent hours searching for you. Those hours easily turned into days. Then the days turned into weeks. There was no trace of you left behind. Where did you go?

💙Lucifer💙

He’s terrified. He doesn’t know why or how you disappeared, but he feels responsible.

He spends every waking moment looking for signs of you. Trying to piece together what or who took you from him.

Knows he has to be strong for the rest of their brothers.

But when he can no longer feel your bond with you through the pact, he feels the unbearable weight of despair crack through his usual stoic demeanor.

He cries. He hasn’t cried like this since their fall.

Lucifer hardly sleeps. His brothers notice the bags under his eyes. How he no longer cares what he looks like in front of them.

He becomes distant again, shutting himself in his room or study.

If you thought his hatred for Solomon was strong before, it’s infinitely worse now.

He doesn’t know who else to blame, so the silver haired sorcerer becomes his reasoning for your disappearance.

The eldest demon has his hands around Solomon’s throat, Mammon and Beel having to pull him off.

“Lucifer are ya nuts?! We gotta have him alive if we have any hope in finding MC!” Mammon had scolded him as he became limp in Beel’s strong grip.

Solomon promised he’d bring you back.

He better not dare to show his face back here until you are with him, safe and sound.

💛Mammon💛

The normally confident and self assured demon becomes silent. Angry. Afraid.

Aside from their initial searching for you, he doesn’t leave your room.

He can’t feel your pact with him anymore, and it sends him spiraling.

He buries himself into your pillows, inhaling your lingering scent.

It’s faint, but he takes what he can get

His eyes are puffy and red from crying, and he can’t stand sitting around doing nothing.

He goes out every night, flying over the Devildom, searching.

When he can’t, Mammon sends his familiars out searching for you too, exploring the areas that he can’t reach.

The ravens are good at finding things, and if they can’t find you, then he’s screwed.

Each time they come back with nothing.

Occasionally, they bring him Grimm they’ve found or a valuable piece of treasure.

But you’re the only treasure he gives a shit about right now.

When he goes to retreat back to his room, he runs into Lucifer.

He looks terrible.

But Mammon can’t blame him. He probably noticed his swollen face and unwashed hair, too.

He sends you texts every day. Even if you don’t get them.

Normally he’d be grossed out by his own sappiness, but he doesn’t care.

He needs you.

MC, wherever you are, just know I love you. So goddamn much. Please come back.

I miss you.

I hope you’re thinking of me, too.

🧡Leviathan🧡

Leviathan always told you he wouldn’t know what he’d do without you.

But he really didn’t want to really experience what life would be without you!

Is this some cruel joke?!

It’s got to be! One of his alternate universe video games went wrong again right?

Except it isn’t. You’re actually gone, and he actually has no idea what to do with himself.

He cries. Alot.

To mask his tears from his brothers, he spends a lot of time in his fish tank with Henry 2.0.

Don’t get him wrong, he loves Henry, but he longs for you. His soulmate.

He sends Lotan to search the Devildom seas, far and wide. He had asked him to listen for any information of sightings of you.

But so far, there’s been nothing. No word. No trace of you.

He lays curled up in his bathtub, a laptop balanced on his lap as he watches anime to try and distract himself from you.

But oh no, is this your favorite episode?! He turns it off, shoving the laptop away and fresh tears falling down his cheeks.

I’m so useless, he thinks. The Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy, and I can’t even find a human!

Levi’s self depreciative behavior gets worse.

He blames himself for not being with you when you disappeared.

He begins picking at his skin and nails, an old, nervous habit resurfacing from back when he first fell into the Devildom.

His brothers do what they can to reassure him, but it’s no use.

He needs you. Please come back home soon, MC.

💚Satan💚

Satan’s temper tantrums are back.

He didn’t ever think he’d revert back to this, but now that you’re gone….

Accidentally lost his temper and in a wrath filled frenzy blew through the wall in the living room. Lucifer threatened to tie him up.

Normally the prideful demon would have just done it, but something about his older brother was different nowadays.

He feels it too, he thought. The pacts are gone.

Spends sleepless nights in the library reading any book he can find about curses.

Did you become invisible? He had no other explanation.

Was it the work of some demon on the street who decided they didn’t like you that day?

He’s frustrated because he feels like he doesn’t know anything.

He knows nothing of your sudden disappearance

Like Mammon, he sends his cats out looking for you. Any sign of you.

But they also bring back nothing but a dead mouse here and there.

Normally he’d be delighted by their gift to him, but it’s lost its appeal.

When he’s worried about you, nothing else matters.

Lucifer did allow him to keep a cat in the house though.

Also uses his personal connections from all three realms to look for you.

But it’s no use.

When he’s not in the library, he’s shut away in his room.

His brothers think for a moment that he’s disappeared as well, but they find him asleep on his bed, his cheeks tear stained and a book on his chest.

Please come home, MC. I need you.

💖Asmodeus💖

Asmo’s love for you rivals the love he feels for himself.

Now that you are gone, he feels he has no love left to give for anyone.

He feels empty.

The Avatar of Lust takes pride in his appearance, always making sure he’s presentable and looking his best.

But not knowing where you are and if you are safe or not is driving him mad.

His brothers haven’t seen him this way in a long time.

Asmo’s eyes are puffy and red, his cheeks and nose raw and swollen from the endless tears.

He spends hours in the bath, thinking of anything he may have said or done to cause you to leave him like this.

He takes up the habit of sleeping a lot. He wasn’t sure how Belphie could do it all the time. But now he understands.

Asmo can also throw a good temper tantrum.

The day he realized he could no longer feel your pact with him sent him over the edge.

But afterwards he felt embarrassed, even though his brothers will never blame him for expressing his feelings for you.

When Solomon leaves to go find you, he feels hopeful, putting all the trust he has in your master to find you.

But it also hurts. He hasn’t left Solomon’s side since your disappearance, taking comfort in the bond he still has with him.

He’ll never take it for granted again.

MC, I can’t take this! If you can hear me, please come home, my lost little lamb… I love you…

❤️Beelzebub❤️

Beel is quiet.

He’s another one that feels responsible for your disappearance.

His heart is aching, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Thankfully, he has his twin by his side to reassure him. But it’s not enough.

He needs to know where you’ve gone.

He needs to save you.

Beel’s appetite is all over the place. One minute, he can’t stop eating and the next, he’s not hungry at all.

His brothers got really concerned when he didn’t eat for 2 whole days.

The only hunger he feels is the need to figure out where you went.

Not only is he worried about you, he’s worried for his brothers.

He knows they are suffering too, especially with the noticeable absence of your pact.

Beel has always been protective of them, after all.

He stops going to the gym. He doesn’t feel like it.

Instead, he cuddles up in bed with Belphie, holding him close with tears silently rolling down his cheeks.

Beel you’re squeezing too hard, he hears his twin mumble. But he doesn’t care.

He’s almost lost his brother before, and now your disappearance has him terrified.

Please, don’t take anyone else away from me.

I love you, MC, please wherever you are, stay safe…

💜Belphegor💜

Belphie’s temper is a short fuse. More than usual, anyways.

He doesn’t want to talk to anyone but Beel.

He tries to retreat to the attic to get some peace and quiet from his brothers losing their collective shit.

But he ends up drowning in a wave of memories as soon as he walks through the door.

He collapses on the bed and hugs his cow pillow to his body as he sobs, his body curling in on itself.

Dammit MC, look at what you do to me…you need to come home…

When he isn’t sleeping, he helps soothe the rest of his brothers to sleep. He sees their dreams, knows the thoughts that are keeping them awake.

He wants to help, but figures this could be the only way he knows how.

He doesn’t feel your presence at all, though.

That must mean you aren’t anywhere nearby, or even in the same Realm. He knows your pact with him is gone.

He felt it break the day you disappeared.

But sometimes he feels a flutter of something in the place where the mark used to be.

He can’t explain why.

Belphie often finds himself slipping into bed with his twin at night.

They were inseparable before, but even more so now that you aren’t around.

I can’t lose him too, I have to stay by his side, he thinks. He snuggles into Beel’s chest as his brother holds him close, afraid he might disappear too at any second.

He misses the days when you were nestled comfortably right between the two of them.

You need to come back MC, you’re our missing piece.

#hope you guys like it!#i just randomly got this idea and needed to write it down #i love NB angst #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me brothers #obey me mc #cass writes #my writing

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dixons-sunshine · 2 months

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Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: While hanging out with Daryl, an old friend decided to pay you an unexpected visit. Not wanting to cut your visit short, Daryl offers to tag along to the supermarket. You agree, which lead to the funniest but best shopping experience of your life. And the hangout afterwards turned into a night you'd never forget.

Genre: Fluff, some angst (mentions of Daryl's dad and his scars—reader knows about his home life.)

Era: Pre outbreak

Warnings: Swearing, blood (from reader's period), mentions of abuse, mentions of Merle being an asshole to reader and Daryl, allusions to money problems (reader chooses the cheapest foods while in the store and lives in a trailer park), reader's mom is implied to be a single parent.

Word count: 4.6k (this got way longer than I expected)

A/n: Honestly my second favourite story I've written. It's not great, but I loved the concept very much and writing about Daryl before the apocalypse turned out to be so much fun! I definitely need to write more about pre-apocalypse Daryl.

Requests are open for any TWD requests if y'all wanna send any!

Part two

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“I'm telling you, you're overreacting. How was I supposed to know that it was gonna go flying in your direction?”

“It wasn't even supposed to go flyin' like tha' in the first place. I've been tryin' to teach ya to fish fer months now, but yer hopeless. Stick to buyin' fish from the market fer yer safety and mine.”

You threw one of the pillows on the couch you were sitting on in his direction, trying to look offended but failing miserably due to the burst of laughter falling from your lips. Daryl easily caught the pillow and chuckled, a boyish grin on his face. He flopped down next to you on the couch, keeping the pillow on his lap as he watched you trying to calm your laughter.

“You're mean, you know that? I'm not hopeless, fishing is just hard,” you said with a smile, looking at him through your eyelashes.

The smile you wore and the sparkle in your eyes made Daryl's heart skip a beat. His mouth suddenly felt dry and he felt an overwhelming urge to close the distance between the two of you—and urge he's had for months now—but he refrained, his father's deprecating words about his 'nonexistent' worth echoing in the back of his mind.

Daryl shook the thoughts from his mind and focused back on you, your smile he loved so much still gracing your features. “Nah, it ain't tha' hard,” he replied, resting his arm on the back of the couch.

“Says the fish whisperer,” you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest in mock anger, but the huge smile on your face ruined your facade.

Daryl couldn't help the amused laugh that escaped his mouth. “Fish whisperer?” he asked, a crooked smile on his face as he looked at you. “Tha's what yer callin' me?”

“Yeah, you're a fish whisperer. Every time I try to catch a fish, you lean down to the water and tell the fish to be difficult so that I can't catch them and you get the satisfaction of watching me fail. I've got you all figured out, Dixon,” you joked, a teasing grin on your face.

Daryl shook his head at your ‘accusation’ and chuckled. “Ya got me,” he responded. “Sorry ya had to find out like this. The fish and I jus' have this unspoken bond, ya know? They do whatever I tell 'em to.”

“I knew it,” you replied playfully, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Apologise right now.”

“'M sorry,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “I'll talk to the fish and get them to go easier on ya.”

“Thank you,” you laughed in playful triumph.

“Yer welcome,” he replied with a shake of his head, the crooked smile still on his face. “Now are we gonna watch tha' movie ya promised or are we jus' gonna go back and forth over your lack of fishin' skills?”

“Yeah, I just gotta use the bathroom really quick. You can pick out a movie in the meantime,” you acknowledged, getting up from the couch once you saw Daryl nod.

You headed into the bathroom of your small trailer home and closed the door, heading towards the toilet to tend to your business. However, as soon as you sat down, you saw blotches of blood on the inside of your underwear. You groaned inwardly at the horrible timing of your period's arrival and reached for the box of tampons you kept located near the toilet. However, as soon as you opened the box, you audibly groaned at the sight of only one tampon remaining. You didn't have any pads either due to your mom having used the last one a week prior, so you'd have to make a run to the store.

You finished your business, grabbing a fresh pair of underwear from the laundry basket you had yet to take back to your room as well as a pair of pants, before going back out to Daryl. He patiently waited for you on the couch, the movie he picked out paused and waiting to be watched. He fiddled with the remote in his hands before looking up at you when he heard your approaching footsteps. He gave you a small smile before frowning, instantly noticing the ashamed look on your face.

“Wha's wrong?” he questioned, getting up from the couch and taking a step towards you.

“Nothing! It's nothing, I just...” you trailed off, unsure how to go about telling Daryl about why you needed to cut the visit short.

“Ya jus' wha'?” he asked anxiously, unnerved by your sudden awkwardness. You were never nervous around him, so the sudden awkwardness baffled him.

“I have to go into town. I need something urgently and it can't really wait. I'm sorry,” you apologized sincerely, your tone holding sadness at the prospect of the visit you had to cut short.

Daryl's heart sank at your words. He enjoyed hanging out with you and really didn't want to go home yet. He was sure his dad wasn't passed out from drinking yet and he didn't want to accidentally set him off into another rage and deeply pay the price for it, so he wanted to wait it out here with you. But now he most likely wouldn't be able to.

“Wha' do ya need?” he asked, nervously chewing on his bottom lip.

You hesitated for a moment. You liked Daryl, and not just platonically, either. Despite his rough exterior, he was undeniably sweet, kind, caring, affectionate and so much more. He knew how to make you laugh even if he preferred to be serious most of the time and he always treated you with the utmost respect. But you also knew that both his brother and his father were misogynistic pricks. They didn't know the first thing about women and feminine needs, so they definitely didn't teach Daryl about any of that. You didn't want Daryl to look at you differently or be grossed out by you because of your period. You wouldn't be able to handle that.

“Hey, ya alrigh'?” Daryl asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. His eyebrows were furrowed in a deep frown, his eyes flickering between your eyes in concern.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I'm fine. I just zoned out for a second.”

“Ya didn't answer my question from before. Wha' do ya need in town?” he repeated his question.

You swallowed nervously before sighing. “I'm on my period,” you whispered, heat creeping up to your face. “And I'm out of tampons.”

Realisation struck Daryl like a ton of bricks. “Oh,” he mumbled, awkwardly fiddling with his hands.

In all honesty, Daryl wasn't weirded out by you saying that, but he didn't know how to go about the information you gave him. He only had the tiniest grain of knowledge about women's periods—thanks to the many women his dad brought home—but he knew that freaking out about it wasn't the way to go. You were one of the most important people in the world to him, and by god he would do anything to ensure that you knew that you could go to him whenever you needed anything, even for something like you needing period products.

“Ya want me to give ya a ride to the store?” he asked, completely taking you by surprise.

“No, I don't want to trouble you. I'll just walk,” you declined his offer, nervously hugging yourself in an attempt to appear nonchalant and simultaneously ward off the pain that would soon stab through your lower abdomen.

“I ain't lettin' ya walk, especially this close to dark. God knows what trouble is waitin' if ya set foot outside this trailer park alone. Tha' new motorcycle gang likes to hang 'round here and I dun' want them to get any ideas with ya,” Daryl replied steadfastly, his mind already set on escorting you to the store.

You smiled at Daryl's worry towards you. It was rare to see his softer side, but when you did, you always cherished it. Daryl Dixon truly was unlike any man you've ever met.

“Fine,” you relented, your voice adapting the playful tone from earlier. “You can drive me, but just so you know, I'm taking advantage of your hospitality. I need to buy some groceries anyways, but I never got around to it because it would be too much to carry if I walked.”

Daryl's lips twitched up into a half smile and nodded. “Alrigh',” he agreed. “But yer buyin' me a Coke fer my valiant efforts of simply drivin' ya to the store.”

“Deal,” you laughed lightly, unaware of the effect it had on Daryl. His heart quickened at the sweet sound of your melodic laughter and he had to duck his head to hide the blush that formed on his face.

“Let's go.” He motioned for you to follow him and you obliged after grabbing the grocery list, following him out of your trailer and over to his neighbouring trailer. The two of you quietly made your way over to his beat down truck, a vehicle he was 'graciously' being lent by his older brother. Or as Daryl once told you, Merle simply dropped it off one day after getting his motorcycle and just seemed to forget about its existence. So now the truck unofficially belonged to the younger Dixon brother.

You opened the passenger side of the vehicle and got in, closing the door behind you. Daryl got into the driver's side and started the truck, his eyes glancing around at the wrappers and few empty cigarette boxes that littered the floor. “Sorry 'bout the mess.”

“It's fine,” you reassured him. “It certainly doesn't look worse than my trailer when my mom and I have been too lazy to clean up.”

Daryl quietly nodded and started the drive to the store, pulling out of the trailer park. The drive was mostly spent in silence until about five minutes in when a bunch of motorcycles whirled past the truck in the opposite direction. Daryl visibly stiffened after one particular motorcycle drove past and you frowned, placing your hand on his arm to try and ease his tension. At the unexpected action, Daryl tensed slightly but soon relaxed under your tender touch.

“Who was it? The guy on the motorcycle? You seem to know him,” you questioned, earning a disgruntled sigh in response.

“'S my brother,” he responded after a moment's hesitation. “He's back in town fer a while but I dun' know why. He hasn't bothered to come see me.”

“Merle's back?” you asked, trying to keep the distaste out of your voice, but failing miserably, causing a small smile to fall on Daryl's face.

It was no secret to Daryl that you despised his brother. The few limited interactions you had with the man were enough to fuel your distaste. Merle either made sexual passes at you, insulted you or questioned your intentions with Daryl. When you didn't fall for his advances or insults, he'd take a jab at your friendship with his younger brother, claiming that Daryl was "pussy whipped" and that you were taking advantage of him. Daryl always immediately shut him down, but that never stopped Merle. Each time it took walking back into your trailer to get the man to shut up.

“Yeah,” Daryl confirmed, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “I think he joined tha' new motorcycle gang. He's a stupid son of a bitch, my brother. Never learns his lesson, but wha' can I do? He ain't ever gonna listen to me.”

“He's a grown man. He'll hopefully learn from his mistakes,” you started, knowing your words probably weren't much comfort for him right now. “If you want, I can punch some sense into him. I've been wanting to punch him for a while now.”

That seemed to lighten Daryl's mood a bit. His lips twitched into a half smile. “Nah, but thanks fer the kind offer. I'll let ya know if I ever need ya to punch him fer me.”

“Please do. I'll practice and everything,” you joked, playfully punching the air in front of you for added effect, eliciting a small chuckle from him.

“Alrigh', Bruce Lee, we're here,” he laughed quietly, parking the car outside the store.

The two of you got out of the truck and moved to the store. Once inside, Daryl grabbed a shopping cart and leaned his arms on the handle bar, looking at you expectantly. “Where to first, boss lady?”

You giggled and took the grocery list from the back pocket of your jeans, unfolding the paper and starting your list. “We'll come back to the period things later. Let's get the necessities out of the way first.”

Daryl pushed the cart as he followed behind you, walking into one of the grocery aisles. “Tampons ain't a necessity?” he asked, curiously watching you search for the cheapest pasta before adding it to the cart.

You shrugged and walked on, hearing the squeaks from the wheels on the cart following closely behind. “It is, but not before food. I can always improvise or ask one of the neighbour ladies for it, but I don't want to ask for food.”

Daryl nodded, although you couldn't see him. “Yeah, tha's understandable,” he said, his eyes scanning over the products in the aisle.

You continued grabbing things on your list, adding them to the cart. You even grabbed two bags of chips and the Coke you promised Daryl, as well as a drink for yourself. After that, you made your way over to the feminine hygiene section and started looking over the various different choices, searching for your preferred items.

“Wha' the fuck?” you heard Daryl whisper behind you, prompting you to turn around and look at him. You giggled at the sight in front of you; Daryl holding a pack of pads whilst his eyes trailed over the different period products, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What?” you asked with a giggle, gaining Daryl's attention.

“Why the hell do y'all need so many different things fer yer pussy blood?” he asked bluntly, eliciting an amused laugh from you.

“First of all, don't call it pussy blood. That's disgusting. Second of all, it's all about preference. Some women prefer pads, others prefer tampons and other things. And not everyone is the same. Some women have heavier flows and some women need bigger tampons and pads than others,” you explained, amused at the deep frown Daryl wore.

Daryl nodded slowly. “Alrigh',” he started. “But still, it's a lot. Tampons, pads... And wha' the hell is a fuckin' diva cup? Y'all use tha' to make tea fer yer pussies or somethin'?”

“No,” you responded, laughing lightly at the confused man. “I don't know how a diva cup works because I've never used one, but it's for our periods. Like I said, preference. Some women prefer diva cups over pads and tampons.”

Daryl shook his head slightly and turned away from the shelves, focusing his eyes back on you. “Well, ya got whatever pads or tampons ya prefer? Or do ya use somethin' else that wasn't named in yer explanation?”

You rolled your eyes and smiled, amused. You grabbed a box of tampons, as well as a box of pads, and added them to the cart. “No, I use pads and tampons, don't worry.”

“Why would I worry?” Daryl asked, pushing the cart as the two of you walked over to pay for the groceries.

“I just meant that you didn't have to worry about there being any more "period product" surprises. I don't think you would've been able to handle it if I told you there was more,” you explained.

“Well... 'S there?” he asked hesitantly, chewing on his lower lip.

“Yeah.”

You walked ahead to the checkout aisle, leaving Daryl baffled behind you. He sped up to catch up to you, and together you started unloading the items.

“This was more than I bargained fer when I offered to come to the store with ya,” Daryl said, handing off items to be scanned.

“I said I would walk,” you replied nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders. “Would've spared you the headache you got from looking at all those different brands and stuff.”

“Nah, I'd take the headache over somethin' happenin' to ya. Walkin' alone ain't safe,” he retorted, giving you a stern look.

“I would've been fine.”

“Maybe, but I wouldn't risk it. Still ain't gonna risk it.”

“Ah, young love,” the lady working at the cash register interrupted, startling both you and Daryl. “You two lovebirds are absolutely adorable.”

Daryl ducked his head in embarrassment, a blush spreading across his face. You could feel your own face flush with heat as well.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, handing the owed amount over to the cashier before moving over to grab a few bags.

Daryl followed your lead and grabbed most of the bags. Together the two of you walked out of the store and over to his truck. You placed the bags in the back of the truck before getting into the passenger side, Daryl getting into the driver's side. He silently started up the vehicle and pulled out of the parking lot, starting the drive back to the trailer park.

“Thank you, by the way,” you said after a few minutes of silence, shifting Daryl's attention to you.

“Fer wha'?” he asked in confusion, shifting his eyes from the road to you and then back again.

“The ride. And for making me laugh. It was nice.”

“My confusion was amusin' to ya?” he asked with a small smile, glancing over to you.

“No, but the things you said were. Especially the thing about the diva cup. Comedy gold right there,” you said with a smile, gaining a quiet chuckle in return.

“Glad I could make ya laugh,” he replied, before a look of realisation crossed his face. “Wait, ain't ya supposed to be in pain? From wha' I know, period's are supposed to hurt.”

At his words, realisation dawned on you. You could suddenly feel a dull ache in your lower abdomen, a telltale sign of a greater pain awaiting you in a few hours. You just hoped that you had some ibuprofen left back at home.

“I'm fine for now,” you reassured him. “The pain's manageable.”

Daryl nodded. The rest of the drive was spent in silence, save for the rumble of the engine and the wind coming through the open windows. You stared outside at the rising moon, the stars starting to light up the approaching night sky. The trailer park soon came into view and Daryl pulled up to your trailer instead of his, putting the vehicle into park. However, instead of getting out, Daryl tensed up as he stared ahead at his trailer.

You followed his line of sight and saw what he was looking at; his father leading a woman into the trailer. His father shut the door behind him, effectively cutting off your line of sight. You turned to Daryl and saw his jaw clenched in anger, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as his mind seemed to be in another place. You doubted that Daryl even remembered you were still in the truck with him.

“You can stay over if you want,” you said quietly, snapping Daryl from his wandering thoughts. “My mom's working the night shift down at the bar. I've got the trailer to myself tonight and I wouldn't mind having some company.”

Daryl hesitated for a moment. “Ya sure? I can go home. Doubt the old man would notice me slippin' in anyway.”

You nodded your head at him. “I'm sure. Come on.”

Daryl followed you from the truck and into your trailer, carrying most of the bags so that you could unlock the door. Once you were inside and he placed the bags down, he silently admired you as you grabbed a bowl to pour the bought chips into.

Daryl appreciated the fact that you never pried. He had told you once about his father and what he did to him because you'd accidentally caught sight of one of the scars on his back. However, instead of pity, you offered him comfort and understanding, telling him that you were there if he ever needed to talk to someone or needed an escape. You never brought up his home life or his scars, and only ever talked about it if he initiated the sensitive conversation first, which was rare. Because of that, Daryl was convinced that you were an angel in human form. You understood him in a way nobody did, and he would forever be grateful for the chance he got to know you.

You could feel Daryl's intense gaze on you and you could feel your face heat up. Daring to be confident for a moment, you glanced up and locked eyes with him. “See something you like?”

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed in agreement, completely capturing you off guard. You inhaled sharply and tried to slow your racing heart.

Daryl inwardly cursed himself. He hadn't meant to let that slip, but he had gotten so lost in his thoughts and admiration of you that he acted before properly thinking. He blushed for what felt like the thousandth time that day and ducked his head, finding the floor very interesting all of a sudden.

“Well,” you started after clearing your throat, grabbing the bowl of chips and the drinks you bought for you both and walking the short distance into the living room, Daryl hot on your tail. “I'm glad you enjoyed the view. It's my "I desperately need to wash my hair" look.”

Daryl chuckled but said nothing. He got comfortable on the couch, sitting beside you as you handed him the Coke you promised him. “Thanks,” he said, nudging his nose up at you in a nod. “How's yer stomach?”

“Surprisingly okay. I guess the pain decided to give me a break for now. I probably won't be so lucky tomorrow, though,” you responded.

You grabbed the remote and hit play on the movie that Daryl had picked out earlier before you went into town, the opening sequence playing loudly. However, about ten minutes into the movie, Daryl took the remote from you and paused it again, confusing you.

“Can I ask ya somethin'?” he asked unexpectedly, his face conveying how nervous he was.

“Of course,” you replied without hesitation, shifting on the couch until your body completely faced him.

“I dun'... I dun' really know how to ask ya this, and I really hope this won't ruin anythin' between us, but I need to know if ya feel the same,” Daryl nervously said, fiddling with his hands in his lap.

“Daryl, what-”

“Nah, let me finish, please. 'S jus'... Yer so perfect to me, y'know tha'? Yer so kind, so carin', so affectionate. Yer basically a ray of sunshine. Yer the complete opposite of me, and ya could spend yer time with someone who deserves ya, but ya choose to hang out with me. Even though 'm damaged goods and I ain't gonna be nothin' more than a dumb, redneck scum, ya always treat me like 'm this fine piece of priceless art or somethin', and I dun' get why. Yer-”

The sudden pressure of your lips against his instantly shut him up. His eyes widened for a moment before he closed them, his hands instinctively going to rest on your waist. The kiss was slow and hesitant, but loving and sweet at the same time. It was perfect and neither of you wanted it to end, but you soon pulled away, looking into Daryl's ocean coloured eyes.

“You're not damaged goods and you're not a dumb, redneck scum. Don't ever say that about yourself again, you hear me?” you told him quietly, your hands gently resting on his cheeks. After he nodded, you continued. “Where's all of this coming from? I'm not complaining at all, but it's kind of unexpected.”

“I've felt this way fer a while now,” he explained, taking one of your hands off of his face and playing with your fingers. “I never said anythin' because I didn't want to scare ya off, but after tha' lady called us 'lovebirds' and ya offered to let me stay over without question after ya saw my expression earlier... I dun' know, I guess I jus' needed to let ya know how I felt. Didn't know if ya'd feel the same, though.”

You smiled at him and leaned forward to press another kiss to his lips, this one more firm and sure than the first one. “I do feel the same,” you confirmed after you pulled away. “I just never thought you'd like me.”

“Guess we both wasted time not sayin' anythin' 'til now, huh?” he asked, giving you a boyish smile.

“Definitely,” you nodded in agreement, a huge smile on your face.

“I guess we have to thank yer time of the month fer this happenin',” Daryl said. “If it didn't start and we didn't go to the store, tha' lady never would've called us 'lovebirds' and we never would've seen my father and tha' woman enterin' the trailer, so ya wouldn't have asked me to stay over. I probably would've gone home by now if we didn't have to go to the store and probably would've never gotten the balls to say anythin'.”

“I never thought I would be this grateful for my period, but I am now,” you said, leaning your forehead against his.

Daryl closed the remaining gap between the two of you, the two of you descending into a slow, hungry kiss. You brought your arms around his neck and his arms encircled around your waist, bringing you closer into his arms. As the two of you got lost in the moment, you didn't hear the trailer door opening, too caught up in each other to hear anything else. However, the clearing of someone's throat startled you, the two of you practically jumping apart.

“Sorry, am I interrupting something?” your mom asked with a raised eyebrow, her hands on her hips as she looked over the two of you.

You looked over at Daryl, your face flaming with heat at being caught by your mom. Daryl's eyes widened as fear crossed his face, his breathing heavy from your previous actions. You turned your attention back to your mom and sighed.

“Mom, don't freak out. I promise I can explain.”

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

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pedge-page · 4 days

Note

I can imagine preggo wife literally talking and talking and talking in the middle of a movie and gets offended and leaves when Joel tells her to quiet down

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife : Yapper

notes: Oh I had fun writing this! no warnings (maybe some Fugitive and Raiders spoilers), Enjoy!

- - - -

Joel’s pretty excited for movie night. It’s one of the few films the two of you don’t argue over and can pretty much watch the entire way through without disruption.

Or at least, it used to be.

Joel settles against the couch armrest with his feet propped up, knees bent slightly so you have room to sit in front. He’s got any snack you could think of within an arm reach away, and he’s got the title on pause so you can scooch your fat booty and big belly comfortably. Usually takes about 15 minutes of squirming, smacking his chest to “fluff” it up, adding a pillow at his crotch, then taking it away because you like his hard cock there instead, elbow in his groin and then his knee, then you gotta get up to pee before starting the whole process over.

“OK Im ready!” You say after 15 minutes on the dot, snuggling close to him with the back of your head rested against the crook of his neck.

He finally hits play, and the Lucasfilm logo flashes across the screen. The tropical forest and ominous music plays as the familiar font of Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark fade on to the screen.

“Joel. Joel. Hey Joel.”

“Y-yes?”

“Did you know Indiana was named after George Lucas dog? Who also was the physical inspiration for chewy?” You ask rhetorically.

It takes him a second to understand you’re asking him a question. “What?”

“Chewbacca! From Star Wars!”

“Oh ok neat,” he says with some enthusiasm, but quick to end it and get back to watching the movie—

“Yeah also Sean Connery is also apparently—well guess how much older he is to Harrison Ford.”

“Um—I don’t—I don’t know.” Joel says slowly, watching as Indy carefully removes the sand from the pouch and weighs it to the gold idol.

“C’mon, guess!”

“I really don’t know, can we—“

“12 years older than Harrison in Last Crusade! My mom was like ‘WHAT no way’ and I was like ‘Yes way’ and she was like ‘He's his father and he's got all that white in his hair and receding hairline’ and I was like ‘Joel's only in his late 30s and he's got white in his beard.’”

Joel can’t hear a damn thing happening on screen except the shouts about hating a pet snake named Reggie. “Wha—“

“Not that you look anything like Sean Connery in Last Crusade. Maybe in like Bond —oof he was the hottest Bond. Plus you got like a receding beard-line with all the patches, I don’t know, but my mom was like ‘Ya know Joel's got more white hair lately since you've been pregnant’ and I was like ‘Nah uh’ and she was like ‘Ya huh’ and I was like ‘Huh I wonder why that is…?’ Anyway but nope only 12 years between him and Ford—“

Joel turns to look at you with a frown, a bit confused and amazed at how you have so much to say, right now, oblivious as ever.

It doesn’t phase your rambling one bit: “—Like damn, but you know Harrison Ford has always been handsome. But like in the bad boy kind of way, not like handsome upstanding like Christopher Reeves? When I saw The Fugitive, I was like ‘oooohhhh I'll be his wife now’ hahaha! no no I’m sorry, he’s famous and I’m not so that’s why I married you, but that's such a fall film don't you think? Minus the murder and betrayal and fucking Dr Charles Nickles like was he British or not? He was in and out of an accent the whole time? Didn't make sense to me but yeah, it's just such a fall Cozy film.”

Joel looks back at the screen and realizes Marion is already being cornered by the Nazi creep: “Ah huh—honey—“

“OH! I Love her song! It’s kind of like Leia and Han’s from Empire except the last notes are different, like it goes do doooooo instead of da dat dada daaaaaaa, That’s just John William’s for ya, but you’d never notice they were so similar!”

Joel opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out as you continue:

“—Also I know you said my mom made good apple pie but I really wanna try to make it because I want you to like mine more, so I need you to get some apples and pie crust and butter and stuff from the store, I’ll make a list so you can get it. They said we need ground cinnamon but I think ours expired like 5 years ago so don’t forget that. And then I'm gonna tell you how to slice the apples since I can't handle sharp objects and then oh I need you to get the mixer from the top shelf and then you have to mix it all together and slice the top with like little heart patterns and then put it in the oven n stuff ‘cause it's hot and I don't wanna burn OH and that reminds me—!”

“BABE!”

“Hmm? yes?” You ask with a innocent smile.

“Let's try to be quiet and watch the movie ok?”

He offers a gentle smile and nods, pointing towards the TV again and settling to watch it with his beautiful wife.

His very very very unhappy wife. Your eyes haven’t left his, face now downturned in such a scowl, he should be shitting his pants.

You roll your jaw at him once, teeth grinding against one another with slitted, murderous eyes. Joel gulps, too afraid to glance back at you again. His eyes are wide staring at the commotion on the television but, now in your deadly silence, he can’t seen to focus on it at all.

Instead of saying anything, you roll polly up to your feet, arms crossed over your chest defensively as you utter a loud “Hmph!” before storming away from the living room.

He’ll have to deal with groveling tomorrow morning when you might be a little more welcoming. But on the bright side, he’s got way more room to spread out on the couch and he can hear the movie much better now!

.........

He switches it off and runs upstairs to get on his knees by your side of the bed, begging for your forgiveness and promises of a Clyde's milkshake to go.

- - - -

Permanent Taglist

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop

#joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #last of us fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us fluff #joel miller fluff #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #tlou fluff #last of us fic #last of us fluff #pedro pascal fic #joel dealing with preggo wife

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yelena-bellova · 10 months

Text

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight: Saturday Morning

Plot: Jamie and Y/n spend an unconventional day off together.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: f!reader, language, mention of child abuse/neglect

A/N: Annndd we’re finally in it in it. A little bit of backstory, a little bit of trauma bonding and a whole lot of fluffy angst. Enjoy!!

(I also fell way behind w/ the taglist and since this series is maybe PG-13, I’m dropping the 16+ 💕)

—————

Someone was knocking on the door.

No, not knocking. Pounding.

Y/n slipped out of bed silently, as if the intruder was already inside her apartment. Bleary-eyed and stumbling in the dark, her hands fumbled for the baseball bat she kept behind her closet door. She’d had it since college and she couldn’t believe she was finally going to have to use it.

The banging continued as she walked through the apartment and down the stairs, growing louder the longer it went unanswered. Whoever was coming to abduct or rob her was clearly in a rush to do so.

Y/n steadied her breath and adjusted her grip on the bat, daring to peek through the peephole and see what she was up against.

“Wha-“ she uttered, lowering her bat and unlocking the door. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

On her stoop, Jamie was bouncing in place, “Can I use your loo?”

Y/n squinted, putting up a hand to block the bulb of Jamie’s stupid headlamp. “What?”

“Roy and I are on a run and I’ve gotta take a piss,” Jamie explained hurriedly, “You’re the only person I know in the neighborhood.”

With a heart rate well over 120 and a mind sluggish from sleep, it took Y/n a second to process his words. “I thought you were a fucking burgler,” she groaned.

Jamie whipped his hand frantically, “Is that a yes?”

Y/n was tempted to shut the door and let him take his chances with a public urination charge. Her friendlier instincts won out and she stepped to the side, letting Jamie race up the staircase to her bathroom. She shut and locked the door once more before trudging back up and setting her bat on the kitchen counter.

A moment later, Jamie emerged, calm and laughing to himself about something. “What kind of burgler knocks before robbin’ ya?”

Y/n was in no mood for his sense of humor. “It is 4-fucking-AM,” she pointed to the stove clock, “I am a single woman who lives on her own and it is 4-fucking-AM.”

“Alright, alright,” Jamie held his hands up in surrender, “Coulda texted you. I’m sorry.”

Y/n leaned against the back of her couch and wiped her hands over her face. Jamie made his way to the stairs, but was struck with a grand idea before he could take the first step.

“Do you wanna come with?”

Y/n glanced up from her palms, “What?”

“With me,” Jamie continued, “Roy. Go for a mornin’ run?”

“What part of 4-fucking-AM isn’t getting through to you?” Y/n asked, floored by his oblivion.

“Yeah, but you’re gonna be up anyway now,” Jamie shrugged, hopping from one foot to the other, “Get your blood pumpin’. Some endorphins.”

Y/n stared at him and wondered if she tried hard enough, could she kill him with eye contact alone?

“It’ll be fun,” Jamie smiled, jutting out his neck a little.

As much as it pained her to admit, he was right. There was no chance in hell she was getting back to sleep with all her senses dialed to 11. It was either tossing and turning in bed for an hour before she admitted defeat and started her day, or do something productive.

Y/n rolled her eyes and brushed past Jamie to grab her running shoes. “4 fucking AM…” she grumbled as she passed him once more.

Jamie made two victorious fists, too pleased with himself to acknowledge the fact that he’d robbed her of a precious Saturday sleep-in. She’d enjoy herself once they got out.

Grabbing a hoodie and locking up her apartment, Y/n followed Jamie out to the street where Roy was waiting on the sidewalk. Under the light of his own headlamp, he looked as confused as Y/n had moments before when he saw her trailing behind Jamie.

“The fuck are you doing here?”

“Convinced States to join us, yeah?” Jamie answered as Y/n yawned.

“I’m gonna fucking push you into the first lake we see,” Y/n glared at the back of Jamie’s head.

Roy looked between his trainee and the woman he barely knew, but respected for the threat alone. Nodding, his eyes landed on Y/n, “You can stay if you keep up.”

“No problem there,” Y/n sighed, taking off into a jog. If Jamie was going to ruin her day off, the least she could do was beat him.

Sharing a glance of amusement, Jamie and Roy ran after Y/n, into the early London morning.

—————————

It turned out to be a fair fight between Y/n and Jamie. Jamie hadn’t underestimated her, per se, but he figured her exhaustion would slow her down. She’d held her own right up against him and impressed even Roy.

“You’re fuckin’ fit, you are,” Jamie said after, the two of them having gone for tea afterwards. He quickly realized the double meaning of the word, “I mean, not like that. I mean, you are, yeah, but I mean-“

“Oh my gosh, words,” Y/n groaned, reaching with one hand to Jamie’s mouth, “Stop.”

Jamie swerved to avoid the hit, chuckling after. “You’re a proper asshole when you’re tired,” he snickered.

“Well, when I get woken up at 4AM,” Y/n glared over at the man, “No, I don’t feel particularly kind.”

The two of them strolled through Richmond, Roy having left them mere minutes ago. They’d run on and off for about an hour before Y/n had to sit through the rest of their regiment. She’d taken a great deal of joy in sitting back with Roy and yelling commands at Jamie.

“I think Roy’s gonna invite you every mornin’ now,” Jamie mused, taking a sip of tea.

Y/n faked a gasp, grasping Jamie’s bicep, “Getting to hurl insults at you? Every day? Oh, well, that’s it. Better hand Keeley my resignation.”

Jamie laughed, shoving her off him before spotting and leading them to a bench. Richmond on a Saturday morning was bustling with people, but it was a peaceful kind of frenzy. The kind you could watch and enjoy.

“Admit it,” Jamie said, sitting down, “You had fun.”

Y/n sighed, pulling her tea to her lips. No such thing would be admitted.

“Why are you even still doing this?” She asked, looking out into the park where a group of kids were kicking around a football, “Zava’s gone. You’re back to being number one. Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”

Jamie ran his fingers over his chin, she wasn’t wrong. Zava had made his unannounced exit two weeks prior. The whole reason Roy had offered to train him was to get him back to being the best. He may not have earned it, but the title had been bestowed back to Jamie. Mission accomplished.

“Think it’s more than that,” he answered, “More than Zava. I think…I know I can be better. And I wanna get there. See what I can do.”

Y/n nodded in reply, that was something she could understand. How many times had she pushed herself in school? At work? Not to beat anyone, but to know she had done her absolute best?

“Maybe it’ll pay off in Amsterdam,” she commented before taking a sip of tea. The exhibition match was just one week away.

“Ah,” Jamie smiled, “You excited?”

Y/n tilted her head from side to side in a shrug, “I guess. I’ve never been.”

Jamie’s face transformed in a split second, from content to near disgusted.

Y/n leant back, “What?”

“You’ve never been to Amsterdam?” Jamie was darn near incredulous at the mere notion.

“No,” Y/n replied, her voice jumping an octave under his judgement.

Jamie scoffed and turned away from her. “How the fuck do you live here this long and not go to Amsterdam?”

“And yet somehow, I still walk the earth,” Y/n chuckled at how bothered he was, “I’m guessing you’ve been.”

Jamie’s lips popped out very duckface-ish. “‘Course I have. Practically a fuckin’ tour guide.”

“Alright,” Y/n said, “Gimme your recommendations.”

Settling back against the bench as if he meant to stay a proper while, Jamie ran through his index. He picked through the pleasant memories, stag parties and one emergency diverted flight that ended in a particularly rowdy five star hotel evening. None of those amounted to anything stacked up against one trip taken much earlier in life.

“Gotta go to the Anne Frank house,” he began to list off ideas, “It’s super sad, but you gotta do it. There’s a really good place nearby to get stroopwafel, gotta go there. Eh, a boat ride down the canal. The tour guides driving ‘em give you all these fun facts about the architecture and the history and stuff.”

Y/n listened, it was the first time she’d seen Jamie properly excited about something. He was passionate on the field, but this was a childlike joy.

“You do remember there’s a match, right?” she laughed, “I’m only gonna end up having, like, one night.

“Then fuckin’ pack it in,” Jamie shrugged and gestured ahead of them like the country was laid out before them, “It’s Amsterdam.”

Y/n raised her cup to take a sip, “How do you know so much? You’ve really been that many times?”

“My mum took me when I were about 16,” Jamie answered, “Took me to all the historical sights and stuff. Guess it all just stuck.”

“Hm,” Y/n nodded, “What about your dad?”

What prompted her to ask, Y/n couldn’t know. She’d noticed that Jamie’s mother came up in conversation sometimes, but his father never did. Her subconscious curiosity had gotten the better of her.

Jamie felt his chest tighten at the mention of his dad. Y/n couldn’t have known anything about their relationship, he knew this. He just wasn’t sure how to reply when it was a subject he didn’t want to pick up. At all.

“Not really a thing,” he chose the safest answer, “He took me before me mum, but…wasn’t nearly as fun.”

Y/n watched his expression shift, how his eyes went from watching his fingers slide over his paper cup to the air in front of them. How Jamie was always fidgeting, but was now doing it with purpose. Worse, she recognized something about all of it.

“I’m sorry,” she backtracked, “That was way too personal, I shouldn’t have-“

“No, it’s-“ Jamie quickly held up a hand. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel bad for her innocence. “It’s fine. He’s just a,” Jamie shook his head, “Fuckin’ asshole.”

Y/n gazed down at her tea, sensing there was more that he wanted to say. Looking away not only saved her dignity, but it allowed him some quasi-privacy to say it.

“What about your folks?” Jamie finally looked back at Y/n, nudging her elbow a little.

That was worse, Y/n decided. Far worse.

“Uh,” she stalled, there was no choice but to answer, “We don’t really talk, to be honest.”

“Why not?” Jamie didn’t hesitate to ask.

Y/n inhaled deeply, blowing the air out with puffed cheeks. It was a piece of her history that she’d left in America, sending it into silent submission the second she stepped foot in London.

“We just…” Y/n shrugged, “Don’t have a relationship. Never have.”

Jamie’s brows dropped in confusion, “What’re you, like, adopted or somethin’?”

“Nope,” Y/n’s lips popped around the syllable, “They’ve just…never had any interest in their kids. Me and my sister, we kind of raised ourselves.”

“Fuck,” Jamie muttered, realizing he had definitely dug too deep. It was too late to back out though, their secrets were spilling themselves out. Better to lean into it than try and patch the all too massive leaks.

Y/n bitterly chuckled over her tea cup, “Yeah.”

Jamie absorbed what she said, leaning on his knees now. It was like he had to take a defensive position up a past that was nowhere near, yet all around him. If Y/n was going to be honest, the least he could do was match it.

“My dad and I,” he started, picking at a loose corner of the cardboard around his cup, “We kinda got in a fight. Earlier this year.”

Y/n turned to face Jamie, thinking he meant an entirely normal type of argument.

“Came back to the locker room after we lost a match,” he continued the story, “Talked a bunch of shit. Got ugly and…” Jamie hesitated, his fist feeling the phantom pain of the confrontation, “Yeah…”

Y/n’s lips parted in gentle shock, he didn’t need to finish for the meaning to come across.

Jamie could feel her eyes resting on him and found the strength to meet them. The tight smile across his face didn’t match the story, but it felt necessary. He sat back, hating the silence they were wading in.

“My parents never yelled. Not because me and my sister were perfect angels or anything, but…they just didn’t care enough to get that emotional,” Y/n admitted before she could even realize the vulnerability in which she said it with, “I mean, there was nothing we could do to even get them to pay attention to us. No recitals, no science fairs, no achievements…nothing. So long as they kept a roof over our heads and kept us breathing, they felt they were doing enough of a job.”

Jamie scoffed, bitter for both of them. “Me dad couldn’t be bothered to show up to any matches. Not when I were a kid.”

“What about when you went pro?” Y/n asked.

“Only in Manchester,” Jamie answered, “Screamin’ at me on and off the pitch that I were doin’ it wrong.”

Y/n traced the curve of Jamie’s jaw with her eyes, watching it clench. He made sense. For the first time since they’d met, he made total sense. You couldn’t go through a childhood like his and not come out with something to prove.

Their conversation became an exchange. One would share and, to make the other feel not so vulnerable, the other would chime in. “Once me and my sister could cook for ourselves, get jobs,” Y/n countered Jamie’s revelation, “My parents were even more done. It’s the main reason I came to England. To get away from them.”

Jamie was fully engaged now, his body turned to face Y/n as she matched his honesty. He knew all about running away.

“I worked so hard in school to get As, extracurricular stuff, anything I could,” Y/n gestured to the air with her cup, “So I could get out.”

“Yeah,” Jamie interjected, his memory sliding back to mornings before dawn spent on the pitch near his childhood home. He’d been just as relentless then as he was now. “Can’t tell you how many fuckin’ hours I spent just…tryin’ to get good. Tryin’ to do something he couldn’t touch.”

Whatever tolerance Y/n and Jamie had start with had long since morphed to a sort of comfortable acquaintanceship. It felt like, without ever moving from their bench, they had made some grand leap into kinship. They were both members of a club neither of them had asked to be in. With their shit spilled out on the ground before them, there was so very little left for them to hide.

“Y’know they’ve never visited me?” Y/n said softly, catching the shock on Jamie’s face out the corner of her eye, “Not once. I’ve been here since I was eighteen…not even for my graduation.”

Jamie watched with sadness as Y/n tried to hide hers. Once they found one another, it felt like there was nothing else to do but…laugh. It was one of those, this is our life laughs. Here we are, our families don’t love us, and it’s not right but here we are. Gentle and faded, but still unbelieving.

“Think we did pretty good,” Jamie said, “Yeah?”

Y/n’s smile came back, she’d allowed Jamie to cross so many of her self-drawn lines and she’d believed it had simply been out of convenience. No, there was something about him she’d only ever recognized in herself. Resilience. “Resentment’s a tremendous motivator, isn’t it?”

Jamie smirked at Y/n, wondering how he’d gravitated towards her knowing just the best, only to find out they had the worst in common. They were both a little broken, and it certainly felt better to be broken with someone else than by himself.

“I’ll drink to that,” he smiled, the two of their paper cups knocking into one another.

————————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @mentalistfan

#ted lasso imagine #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #heartfirst

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normal-internet-user · 1 year

Note

Ok so the sibling headcanons give me soon much comfort, so I hope you don't mind I pop a request in

Turtle sibling reader (like the one form the teddy bear request) showing her beautiful drawing of her family to them. 😭 I just want fluffy sibling bonding Headcanons

Anon, this is adorable-

2012 BOYS WHEN SIBLING READER DRAWS A FAMILY PICTURE

You smiled to yourself as you set down your crayons.

You ran into the kitchen, drawing and Mr. Brownie in hand as you hauled yourself up onto the nearest chair next to Raph.

The red clad turtle looked over at you, "Watch ya got there, shorty?"

You giggled and handed him your drawing, Leo glanced at the two of you, your giggles catching his attention.

"Wow, good job, (Name). It's us right? Yeah that's me, and that's Mikey."

You shook your head and giggled like he was the silliest person in the world, "Nuh uh! That's you, there's Mikey, that one's Leo, that one's Donnie, and then this is father, April and there's Casey!"

Leo peeked over Raph shoulder, making a point to gasp loudly, "Oh wow, did (Name) draw that? That's the best drawing I've ever seen!"

You smiled over at him, "Really? You think so?"

"I know so." Leo said taking the drawing from Raph.

You smiled proudly, "Well, guess what?"

"What?" Raph replied,

You motioned for him to lean closer, like you were telling him a secret, "Mr. Brownie helped!"

"Did he now?"

You nodded happily, taking the paper back from Leo, "I'm gonna go show Donnie!"

Leo chuckled as you ran off, Raph smiling softly at the adorable display.

"We're puttin' that on the fridge right?"

Leo scoffed, "Duh."

You rushed into the Lab, "Donnie! Look, look look!"

He spun around in his chair, looking down at you as he pulled up his welding mask, "What is it?"

You excitedly held up your art, promting him to take it and look closer, "Wow, (Name), this is amazing! Have you shown Leo yet? I'm sure he'll want to hang it up somewhere."

You nodded, "I want to shown Mikey first though."

Donnie smiled at you as you took the picture back, "So, how's Mr. Browine's leg?"

"Oh, he's doing much better, right Mr. Brownie? ... he says yes. I'm gonna go show Mikey my picture now. bye bye Donnie!"

"Bye bye." Donnie said, chuckling.

You rushed out of the lab, and into Mikey's room. Mikey smiled at you from where he sat playing video games,

"Hey there, dudette! Whatcha got there?"

You plopped next to him, and handed him the drawing, "I drew a picture!"

He paused his game, and took the picture from you, "Woah, sick art skills little sis! Look at how awesome I look!"

You smiled proudly, giggling as Mikey lifted you up off the ground, "We gotta go hang this up." he said.

He ran into the kitchen, setting you down on the table, Mikey grabbed a magnet from the fridge and used it to hold up your family portrait.

"Perfect!" he said, standing back to admire your master peice.

You giggled again, excited to show Casey and April the next time they visited.

#tmnt #tmnt x reader #x reader #leonardo x reader #raphael x reader #donnie x reader #leonardo x reader tmnt #platonic x reader #tmnt x reader platonic #mikey x reader tmnt 2012 #child reader #tmnt x child reader #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2k12 #tmnt 2012 x reader

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auteurdelabre · 5 months

Text

Something to Fight For (series) Part 13

Word Count: 8.0K

Pairing: Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no physical descriptions) Tommy x Maria (yay!) / Tess x Joel (temporary) / Bill x Frank (forever)

Warnings: Smuuuuuuuut. Spoilers: thigh riding, dirty talk, female orgasm, Joel's a giver.

A/N: This is part of a sweeter series (lots of angst, pining and smut ahead) Also despite Sarah's young age Joel is early 40's in this because slightly grey babygirl DILF Joel is the best Joe

“An old favorite,” Paul says with a charming smile. “Maria will love it.”

You and Paul are at his place sitting on the sofa facing one another. Paul has his guitar resting on his lap and he's strumming the first few bars to "Always on my Mind". He's decided that Maria and Tommy would love this at the wedding; a little impromptu reunion of the band.

“What about Tommy?” you pose, feeling strange about the whole thing. “He wasn’t even around to see us play before.”

“Oh he’ll get on board,” Paul says with confidence.

"I haven't sung it in so long," you say, your nerves building as you think about singing in public again. "I don't really think I wanna do it, Paul."

"It's the perfect song for a wedding." Paul insists, strumming the guitar a little more loudly. "Now c'mon, we only have a few weeks to get it right."

He sets off into the first verse, his voice clear and melodic before he prompts you with a raise of his brows.

This is the part of Paul you didn't miss.

The pressing.

Even when you didn't want to sing at the bars some nights all those years ago, he'd insist. You'd stand up there, your heart hammering as you gazed out into the crowd. But then Paul would be at your side with his guitar over his shoulder squeezing your hip and whispering that you sounded amazing, that everyone loved it and that you needed to keep going. He'd never force you, never threaten. He'd just wear you down to the point where it was easier to just give in.

And you would.

The only time you'd refused Paul anything was the night he told you he was ending things. After your big blow out where you told him in no uncertain terms that you weren't leaving your job to run off with he and Jack to tour.

You'd been devastated. The anguish you'd felt you'd packed in a rush, holding in your sniffles even when Paul begged you to reconsider. That heavy sadness when Paul watched you leave the apartment, telling you that it was a mistake.

You frown at the memory now, those same feelings of anxiety spreading through your body.

"C'mon," Paul urges you in a voice heavy with love for you. "This is your part, baby."

And as you always did back then, you nod and you relent.

///

"Hey friend," comes Joel's smiling voice at the end of the phone the next day. "Any chance you have a minute?"

You glance at the mountain of paperwork on your desk at the humane society and a smile moves over your features at the request. "Always."

You can hear Joel crawling into the seat of his truck, closing his door to the sound of the work site drilling and hammering.

"Good. I wanted your advice about Sarah's birthday party." Joel's voice is thoughtful. "I know it's gotta be toads and purple but that's where I'm stuck. When I asked her she just mentioned she wanted McDonalds. Doesn't care about anything else."

"Not everything has to be toads," you reason with a smile and a laugh. "Why not ... McDonalds and mini golf? That new course just opened up and I bet Sarah would love it."

"That's a good idea," Joel agrees, and you can imagine him nodding. "Didn't think of that."

Tess ' words come back to you sharp and unexpected.

Maybe you could back off a little bit with Sarah? Just for a bit. Just until I can wedge myself in there, ya know?

How are you giving her room to bond with Sarah if you're doing this? You're practically planning Sarah's birthday party like you’re her mother or something. There's an acute tug at your heart at that thought before you sober.

"What did Tess say?"

"Huh?"

"When you asked her about this," you say motioning to the air in front of you. "What was her idea?"

There is a stretch of quiet. You can hear Joel's fingers strumming the wheel.

"I, uh, haven't asked her yet," Joel finally recovers. "You've known Sarah longer so I thought I'd ask you first."

"Oh right. Well, Tess really likes Sarah," you say, holding in a wince. "I bet she'd have lots of good ideas."

The conversation is suddenly awkward and stilted. You both find reasons to end the call that have everything and nothing to do with your respective jobs.

The gap begins.

///

At the end of your shift you're surprised to see Tommy in the parking lot of your building. He’s leaning against the back like something out of a teen girl’s magazine. He gives you a sweet smile when you approach.

“Was heading to Maria’s and thought you’d wanna lift.”

You had no desire to take the bus home tonight; you’re exhausted from all this sanctuary planning. You shoot him a thankful smile.

“You’re the best,” you enthuse, bringing yourself up into the truck’s bench seat. You stow your purse at your feet, buckling in as Tommy starts the truck up. You give a wave to Alex as you pull out of the lot and onto the winding road home.

Tommy and Joel are peas in a pod when it comes to music. You try to change it to a pop station before Tommy shoots you a meaningful look and switches the dial back to 92.5 CountryJamFM.

“Jesus,” you mock as the first straining guitar ballad begins. “Just as bad as your brother.”

“Really?” Tommy is smiling widely.

“Yep. I gave him shit for the exact same thing.”

“Not surprised. Our mom was always sayin’ I copied everything Joel did when we were kids,” Tommy laughs. “I thought he was the coolest person on earth. Always wanted to do everything he did, listen to the same bands, drink the same beer. Guess some of it stuck.”

You’re imagining the two young brown-eyed boys (one a little older, a little more serious), laughing and playing in forests and building tree forts. When you think of the Miller brothers it’s always out in nature, wild and unfettered

“That’s actually really sweet,” you say with a smile. “Joel never really talks about your parents.”

“Not a shock. Neither’s around anymore.” Tommy looks grim and you immediately regret saying anything about to apologize but then Tommy gets a faraway look in his eyes. “You know when we were younger, and our Mom was sick, Joel quit school?”

“What?” this surprises you. “Where was your dad?”

“Left years before. I don’t even remember what he looked like.”

Tommy is frowning now and you’re trying to formulate the whirring thoughts in your head. You’re surprised by so much of what is happening. You and Tommy have never had a great many deep conversations. You know so little Joel’s history.

“I thought Joel said he didn’t do well in school. Said he only enjoyed shop.”

“Nah, not true,” Tommy says with a shake of his head. “He was really smart, ‘specially in English classes. He only left so he could get a job and support us. Construction place near our house was hiring.”

You sit in the seat next to Tommy and mull over your time with Joel realizing that while he was so determined to learn more of you, you were more passive, taking in the information in crumbs when he offered them. You have a heavy regret that settles into your tummy with this information Tommy is sharing.

“And then I grow up, smokin’ weed in bathrooms and getting’ into bar fights and there’s Joel comin’ to rescue me every time. I barely graduated and then I couldn’t keep a job. And then Joel had this construction company, something he built from the ground up. ‘Course Joel hired me and now my life is better than it ever could be but only because of my brother.” Tommy shakes his head, his eyes still peeled on the road but glassy. “Sometimes I feel guilty, like I stole Joel’s future from him.”

You want to shake your head and assure Tommy that this couldn’t be the case. But the reality is you don’t know. You two lapse into silence as the drive continues but you can’t stop thinking about Joel and his childhood.

“Joel’s always been that way though.”

“What way?”

“Protector. Always wants to do what’s best for other people instead of himself. S'funny," Tommy says airily looking at the stretch of road in front of him. "I always thought you were a great match for my brother because you’re just the same."

Pure unfettered delight goes through your body like a drug. A tingling sensation that makes your cheeks flush and your mouth curl into a grin. Tommy thinks that? Tommy thinks you’re a good match for Joel?

All at once you realize you sober.

He thought that.

Past tense.

Because Joel is with Tess now.

“It’s why I dragged him to trivia that night,” Tommy confesses with a shy grin. “Was hoping you two’d hit it off after that fucking abysmal first night.”

Your heart is thumping now. You wonder why Tommy is telling you this at all.

"I was so sure something had happened between you two," Tommy adds before he can stop himself. “He came home from that Christmas party all excited and smiling and I thought ‘this is the Joel from when we were kids.’ Like he finally had something just for himself. Not for Sarah or for me.”

Joel’s words haunt you now, swirling in your mind and your heart. The way he’d held you and kissed you and whispered those words.

I want you for my own.

And you know that Joel never meant it to possess you or own you. He wanted that carved space in his heart to be filled with something he didn’t have to share. Something that he could cherish and rely would still be there.

Tears are stinging your eyes and you blink them back furiously. Tommy slants a look at your down-turned face.

“Can I ask you somethin’?”

“Sure.”

“You really like that Paul guy?”

Tommy has a cringing look on his face, like he knows what he asked is over the line. He’s bracing himself for your ire or complete silence. You give him neither because you know Tommy isn’t asking to be cruel or prying. He’s asking, you realize, because he’s not really sure.

And while you want to tell Tommy that yes, you do like Paul you also really, really like Joel. But you can’t help but think of Tess and her hopes for a future with him. You think of Paul and his desire to start a life together with you. You realize that wanting more is incredibly selfish so you give Tommy a small nod and smile.

“I do.”

///

Joel stands in front of his bathroom mirror and stares at himself. He's taken to doing this in recent weeks, but not for vanity's sake. He doesn't look at his hair or his body.

He leans over the counter, his wide palms flat on the cool stone until his nose is inches from the mirror. There he keeps gaze with his own reflection until his mouth curls in disgust.

"You're a piece of shit."

He reminds himself of this because no one else does.

Being back in Frank and Bill's had done something to him. Sitting there in the scene of the crime. He'd made sure not to go past the studio door, terrified of what he'd do if he saw the same sofa you'd been entangled on. He was sure he'd feel the phantom touch of your hands in his hair and the way you'd looked at him that night.

It stirred up not just feelings of lust but if overwhelming regret. Sadness that was so much more acute than loneliness had been. And this deep unrelenting guilt that he'd fucked up.

He hadn't been able to keep himself from looking over at you during that visit, sneaking looks when you laughed. His own lips quirking in amusement when you did. Your arm had brushed against his as you shifted in your seat and he'd refused to move, desperate for you to do it again.

Seeing you happy makes him feel so fucking good even if he's not the one doing it.

Frank and Bill, they give you ease and comfort and he likes being there with you in this world of baked goods and laughing and gentle comments of how wonderful Sarah is.

His heart felt full that day and then it broke just as easily in the subsequent ones.

Coming to see Tommy at Maria's had been a last minute detour to grab the tools. He hadn't even considered you'd be there until his brother invited him in for a drink and he'd seen you there snuggled up against Paul. A handsome man, a man who had you tucked under his arm like you were his.

And Joel had felt that sickening lurch in his heart followed quickly by a scorching and ugly possessiveness. Who the fuck was this guy touching you? You were Joel’s.

Except you aren't.

Joel doesn't get to feel that way. He doesn't get to feel any way about who you take up with. He'd lost that privilege the second he'd taken up with Tess. He stares with menace into his reflection until the dark brown of his eyes are all he sees and feels, suffocating and harsh and unrelenting.

Why did you do it?

Why? How did he convince himself that being with Tess, that not waiting for you, had been the logical decision?

Was it anger at your lack of communication? Perhaps. Hurt and pathetic jealousy over knowing that you had contacted Maria and not him? Likely. Feeling rejected? Feeling unworthy? Maybe. Had it been fair?

No.

The thing with Tess had been so unexpected. A month of silence from you had left Joel feeling insecure and rejected. Sarah's concern that you didn't like her anymore or were mad at her had him upset. So when Tess called suggesting a play date for Daniel and Sarah he'd jumped at the chance to get out of his house and out of his head.

He hadn't gone in with the intention of anything more than a cup of coffee. Sarah and Daniel were in the next room giggling and pretending they were mermaids.

Joel and Tess sat across from one another in the kitchen with their rapidly cooling coffees. They began with chatting about their prospective Christmases and the stress that comes with the holiday when you have a five year old. But then Tess had given him a sharp look.

"You look tired."

"Not sleeping much," Joel replied.

"Me neither." Tess took a sip of her coffee. "Dave's girlfriend is pregnant."

That had shocked Joel's eyes from the mug to her face. Tess was looking at him with that curiously intense gaze of hers.

"Yeah that was my Christmas present this year," Tess replied with a forced laugh. "Finding out my ex is already moving on with some slut from his office and he's already gotten her pregnant."

"Daniel?"

"He's thrilled. Can't wait to be a big brother." Tess' gaze turned hard. "Sorry, shouldn't be bringing this up with you."

"Why not?"

"Because that's not really our dynamic, is it?" Tess has asked him curiously. "Our kids play together, sometimes we talk. . . Surface level stuff."

Joel had shrugged. "I don't mind listening."

Tess had been surprised by Joel's candor and in the way he sat there, hand around his mug listening as Tess poured her heart out about her ex. The hurt, the loneliness that Joel could relate to a bit too much.

"Thanks for listening," Tess said with a wry smile as she finished.

"Any time," Joel replied with a small lift of his fingers from the table.

"You seein' anyone these days?" Tess said it airily, but she was pretty sure she knew the answer. She'd seen the pretty woman in his truck weeks ago. The one he couldn't stop glancing over his shoulder to look at, to smile at.

Joel felt his mouth tug into a frown at that question. Was he seeing someone?

No.

You didn't even want to talk to him. He couldn't call you to see where the two of you stood. Wasn't that his answer?

He shook his head to indicate the negative. That action felt like a betrayal the moment he stopped.

"Ever feel lonely?" Tess had mused, tracing her finger along the rim of her mug. "I sure fucking do."

"Yeah," Joel had nodded. Because it was true. He did feel lonely in a way Tommy and Sarah and his job couldn't touch.

"Wanna be lonely together? Go on a date?"

Joel hadn't been expecting that from Tess. His knee jerk reaction was to say no. That he was seeing someone. That it was complicated. But what was the complication? He told you how he felt and you'd left, icing him out.

Joel thought of the worst scenario: that you didn't actually like him. That he'd pressured you into something you didn't want and now you wanted nothing to do with him.

He could see the insecurity growing in Tess' face the longer he didn't answer.

"Sure," Joel had agreed with a smile that didn't feel genuine. "Yeah."

"Did you really even like me that much?"

Of course you would wonder that. Of course you would sit there looking so beautiful and hurt and asking that in a way that made Joel's heart ache. And he deserved it. He deserved that question and that pain.

And he'd waited for your disgust, your recalcitrance when he explained his loneliness. Because it wasn't a good enough answer. It didn't encompass how he thought you'd not wanted him and how he'd been weak enough not to fight for you.

But you'd responded with kindness and patience and above all you wanted to know how it would affect Sarah.

And that's when he'd felt his resolve starting to slip. That was when he considered taking you into his arms and covering your face with kisses. He wanted to throw himself at your feet and beg your forgiveness. He wanted to push you onto your bed and make gentle love to you for hours.

And then he'd heard the name Paul. And then he sees you tucked up beside him days later and he hears Maria tell Tommy that she thinks you're happy and he wants you to be happy. After everything Joel just wants that smile of yours to stay.

///

You come to babysit that Friday night loaded down with a backpack full of puzzles and Disney DVDs and Sarah runs screeching into your arms as you heft her onto one hip. You’re especially excited to see her today.

"Had to show you this," you tell Sarah as you hold her in one arm. Her tiny arms wrap around you, twisting to look at the flip phone you've opened and begun to bring images up on. You stop on the most recent, smiling at her.

"Are those kitty's?"

"Yup," you smile at her reaction. "Foster parent sent the photos to me this morning. 5 kittens in all."

"What's a fozzer parent?"

"A foster parent,” you correct gently. “They're the people who take care of the animals when they're small until they're big and strong enough to get adopted."

Sarah is digesting this, her wide eyes going off into middle distance just as Joel enters the kitchen. He's dressed casual tonight in jeans that hug the curve of his ass and a t-shirt that strains along the arm and broad chest of his body.

If Frank was here you're sure he'd be foaming at the mouth.

"Hi Daddy."

"Hey babygirl."

Joel smiles a hello at you, going to grab a glass of water before he leaves. You continue scanning through the grainy photos in your phone at Sarah’s request. She suggests names like Pumpkin and Carrot for the kittens and you don’t bother telling her they already have Lord of the Rings names because the foster parent is a Tolkien nerd.

///

Joel sips his water slowly, needing to extend the time in your presence. He watches you hold his daughter on your hip, both sets of eyes on the glowing phone in your hands. Sarah is excitedly rambling and you’re glancing over at her with an indulgent smile.

He loves you.

Wait, what? No. He means he loves watching you with Sarah. The sweetness of your bond. He doesn’t love you. You’re friends, that’s it.

You seem really happy with Paul, as much as he hates to admit it. He hears from Maria how happy you are.

He can’t love you.

///

You feel Joel’s warm eyes on you and you glance up to see him staring at you and Sarah. You can’t stop looking at him differently now after your conversation with Tommy. You give a sweet smile of affection for him.

Protector.

I want you for my own.

There is a part of your lizard brain that focuses on this aspect of Joel. The strong protector covering his own hurt. The way he wants to take care of you. The way he wants to protect everyone even at a cost to his own happiness.

And you can admit now, as you stare into his eyes, that you love that about him. This deep, abiding affection that makes your heart swell when you look at him. It makes you daydream about a world and a future that isn’t yours.

You think what it would be like if Joel was your husband. You can imagine it. The three of you just as you have always been. Except now its Joel curving forward to rest his chin on your shoulder, looking at the phone with Sarah perched on your hip. His strong arms wrapping around your expanded midsection. His mouth coming to your temple to whisper how much he wanted this, how much he wanted you.

The dam breaks.

All the emotions you’d been holding back sputter out of you and you nearly drop the phone. Thankfully Sarah has a grip on it and she stills it. Your eyes are threatening to spill over and you rub them furiously.

“Careful,” Sarah tells you, her attention still on the images of the little kittens. Joel approaches, his eyes peering into yours. His hand is on your cheek, cupping it before you can say anything.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod shakily, trying not to nuzzle into his palm. “Just a headache.”

“I don’t have to go,” Joel insists, worried he sounds too eager. “I could cancel if you’re not feeling well.”

This affection you have for Joel, this worrisome love that you can’t seem to stop builds in your chest. And just as Tommy said, you are so similar. Because while you care for Joel you know that Tess is a better match. You are chaotic and troubled and you bring drama into this single father’s life; drama he never had before you. Tess is even and steady and no, she’s not perfect. But neither is Joel.

“You go on,” you croak, forcing a smile to your face. “Have fun.”

Joel nods and gives a weak smile, dropping his hand from your cheek.

“Don’t know how much fun a bid meeting is, but we’ll see.”

Since she's still in your arms you watch as Joel leans forward and presses a kiss to Sarah's forehead before smiling indulgently at her.

"Your beard tickles," Sarah giggles with a smile up at her father before mentioning the kittens from your work. Her voice is fading though because Joel's eyes have snapped to you and he's not moving back. If anything his face is getting closer to yours.

You don’t pull away.

Ever so softly, Joel presses a kiss to your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut at the contact. His lips are warm and soft against your skin and you feel his hand skating along to your lower back, resting there. He’s so close you can smell the scent of his shampoo and the laundry detergent and this underlying scent that is just Joel to you.

He pulls back slowly, staring at you as you blink open your eyes. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you. Can he tell everything in your gaze?

Sarah barely notices this interaction between the two grownups because her attention is on the phone and on the subject of what she has decided what she'll do for a job when she gets to an employable age: Fozzer parent.

"Have fun you two," he says to you both in a deep voice before clearing it.

You swallow; swaying gently and watching him leave. You decide to stop acting like a stunned mullet when the door closes behind him and you’ve lowered Sarah back to the floor

“Let’s play Barbies.”

Sarah is unaware of your sudden daze, or the way you stumble when you walk into the living room after her. She doesn’t even comment on how you’re smiling crookedly as you dress the various Barbie dolls she shoves at you.

“This one needs a bit of love,” you say brushing the hair of a particularly bedraggled Barbie as you and Sarah sit before another one of her Christmas acquisitions; a Barbie Dream home. So pink and purple you want to wear sunglasses just to look at it.

“My birthday is soon.”

“I know,” you say with measured enthusiasm. “I hear you and your dad are planning something really fun.”

“McDonalds and mini golf,” Sarah tells you smiling widely. “They have a big play place with a ball pit.”

“Mhmm. Who’s coming?”

“Uncle Tommy, Auntie Maria (auntie! You’ll never get over that!) and my best friend Jessie. And you, right?”

“Of course,” you answer without thinking then realize some names have been left off her list. “You think you’ll invite Daniel and Miss Tess?”

“Daniel’s annoying.” Sarah adds nothing else to this as she’s struggling to put a pair of plastic shoes onto a Barbie with springy feet. “He only wants to play cars.”

"Ah, that’s boys for you,” you try to say it casually. “I think Miss Tess is really nice though."

"She doesn't do voices right when she reads," Sarah tells you flatly, not looking up from the Barbie she’s currently trying to make walk. "Templeton sounds the same like Wilbur."

You hold in a laugh at her criticism of Tess' ability to read Charlotte's Web to her standards.

"Maybe there's another book she can read with you?" You offer. "One we haven't read yet."

Sarah looks up at you with a peering expression, as if she can’t really figure you out tonight. But this dims when her attention becomes fixed on the Barbie you've now made look presentable

"Olivia books?" Sarah suggests finally. "Olivia is a pig but she wears a red dress. That’s a good book."

You nod and hope your smile hides the pain behind it.

///

After two stories (with very good voices), one song (“You are my sunshine” seemed more appropriate for a five year old than more Linda Ronstadt), five forehead kisses (plus one for toad) and two “I love you’s” (two each, that is), Sarah is asleep and you’re daydreaming on the sofa.

You can’t stop thinking about Joel kissing your cheek. The warmth of him, the broadness of his frame, the soft rasp of his whiskers. Every single thing about Joel makes you feel giddy and fluttery and just when you feel yourself about to giggle out loud, the house phone rings and you sit up as Tess’ voice rings through the air as the answering machine clicks on.

Hey Joel, it’s me. Just wanted to know what you thought Sar-bear would want for her birthday? I already got something but I’m worried it’s not enough. Call me back, k? Bye.

You can hear the unspoken ‘I love you’ in the ‘bye’. You know it’s because the machine is public, possible for Sarah to listen to.

Sar-bear?

Jesus Christ. Were you really so naïve to think you could exist in this world with Sarah and Joel, immune to what lay outside the doors? Immune to the woman who wants to have Sarah for a daughter and Joel for a husband?

Besides, you’re reading too much into this. He kissed your cheek. Tommy kisses your cheek hello sometimes when you see he and Maria at dinner. There’s nothing sensual there, just a form of affection.

The TV is turned on and your mind is distracted until a short while later you hear a rapping on the door. You switch the TV off, feeling a bit nervous. You consider taking the butcher knife from the kitchen but then decide perhaps this is an overreaction since Joel lives in a perfectly safe neighborhood.

A quick look through the peephole tells you its Paul on the other side. Your ride home. A quick glance at your wristwatch tells you that its barely nine o’clock.

“Hey baby,” Paul says, leaning against the door frame. He kisses you gently. “Ready to go?”

“I said Joel would be back around nine-thirty,” you remind him, feeling a flash of irritation. You don’t like that he’s here at the door, so close to a world you’ve unknowingly kept him on the perimeter of. It makes you feel strange to have him there on the doorstep.

“Sorry,” Paul says with a wince. “Think I heard wrong. Can I come in?"

“I don’t think that’s. . . I don’t know how Joel would feel about that.”

Paul looks shocked by this from you, about to say something when another voice sounds out from behind him.

“How would I feel about what?”

Joel is striding up to the house, his muscled legs moving up the drive.

“Bringing boyfriends over while you babysit? A bit cliche,” Joel teases, but his voice is tight and his smile looks forced. You feel a strange sense of guilt that Paul is here.

“Hey Joel,” you say with an awkward laugh. “This is Paul. Paul, this is Joel."

Joel walks up the steps and extends a hand that Paul immediately shakes, smiling warmly.

“Yeah I think I saw you once at Maria’s. Heard lots about you.”

Joel slants a look your way before nodding back at Paul. “Good things I hope.”

You watch, stricken as the two men shake hands before breaking apart.

“Paul just got here early to pick me up.”

“Good man,” Joel says and up close you can see the strange look in his eyes. He brushes past you gently to go into the house as you prepare to leave, feeling strange to be leaving like this, one foot already on the threshold of the door. You give a soft goodnight to Joel, preparing to head out when Paul furrows his brow and grips your wrist, stopping you.

“Aren’t you going to pay her?”

Joel who had been about to walk inside his house stops, stepping back and looking at Paul. You immediately blanch, looking at your boyfriend in dull horror.

“No, that’s not-“

“She did a service for you, she deserves to get paid.”

Paul states this as if he’s doing you a favor. He says this about you – that you’re too kind and you do too much for others. That you don’t stand up for yourself enough and you know he’s doing it to be kind but you want to scream at him.

“We have a deal, Joel built all those kennels for me and-“

“Your boyfriend is right,” Joel interrupts lowly, taking the wallet out the back of his pants pocket. “You do a lot and you deserve to get paid for it.”

Paul shoots you a look that says: See?

You swallow the warm shame that is flushing your entire body a humiliated pink. You can only stand in horrible, awkward silence as Joel peels off five twenty dollar bills (far too much for a few hours babysitting) and gently holds them to you. You stare at the money a beat too long before Paul reaches out, taking the money and then handing it to you himself.

“Thanks,” you mutter with your eyes on the ground as you put the money in your pocket.

"Good night," Joel says.

///

You can’t stop thinking about of Joel’s mouth.

You should be turned off, especially after the humiliating spectacle you just endured but your mind keeps flying back to the softness in his eyes and the way his hand had skated down your back. Abuzz with thoughts of Joel and his lips on your fevered cheek, you drive to Paul’s house almost thrumming beside him.

In bed Paul moves between your legs with the comforting motions of a longtime lover. Your bodies are familiar with one another; you know the sweet spots each other enjoys. After two years there is gentleness to the intimacy, a calm and steady reliance that when you fall you'll be caught.

He likes to do it best with both you on your sides, his front pressed against your back, your legs scissor with his, rolling your hips against him as he fucks you. He is usually silent, the only noises are the grunts and gasps when he hits you in a way that makes you squirm delightedly. At this angle you often come, shuddering his name.

Tonight is no different except the mouth on your body that you imagine in Joel's and you feel the warmth expand up your body, making you go boneless against Paul as he finishes soon after.

He kisses your sweaty temple, holding you until he softens, disposing of the condom and returning to bed to hold you again.

"Remind me, I gotta go to the pharmacy tomorrow," you tell Paul flicking off the lamp next to the bed. "Gotta get my refill."

You feel Paul snuggling up against you in bed and you smile. You like cozy nights like this at his place. His bed is bigger than yours, more room to stretch out and his lithe body is so warm.

"Maybe don't get a refill this time," Paul coos as he comes to wrap his arms around you.

"What?"

You're suddenly so tensed that Paul begins tugging you back into him. He sighs gently before pressing a chaste kiss to your shoulder.

"I wanna make a baby with you," Paul says, his hand coming to span over your empty stomach. "I want us to build a family."

You want to laugh at the preposterousness of the suggestion but something stops you.

Paul is offering you a family.

you won't have Sarah and Joel. Tess has laid a very obvious claim to them and you don't have a leg to stand on. Maria and Tommy are starting a new chapter in their lives. It won't be long before they too will turn inward, their lives intertwined.

And wouldn't it be nice to raise kids together with Maria? Maybe even be pregnant at the same time? The thought causes an excited frisson to go through you. You have images of you both holding newborns. Maria glowing and holding a curly haired baby with dark caramel skin.

You rocking a baby in your arms, a baby with large eyes a dark chocolate brown that look up at you with adoration. The same brown color as -

You feel your eyes fly open. You glance over at Paul, taking in his sweet blue eyes and give a guilty smile.

"I'll think about it."

///

You’re surprised to see Joel at your work later that week. It’s early and you’re just arriving from the bus, your bag bouncing against your hip. At first you see him and his gentle smile and a surge of affection goes through you followed by a crushing humiliation at the memory of the last time you saw him.

You wave and walk over to the truck confused at his arrival before you see a flurry of movement in the back seat.

The widow is rolled down and Sarah shouts your name. You jog the rest of the way over, smirking over at Joel before you lean over the right window of the back seat. Sarah is dressed in a purple sweater and bumblebee boots. Her hair is in tight buns on either side of her head.

"Hey, how's it goin' bug?"

She reaches out towards you with one hand, and then frustrated at being buckled into her car seat she frowns at her father. "Daddy, let me out!"

"We had a deal," Joel warns her, looking at her through the rear view mirror. Sarah leans back in her car seat shooting daggers at her dad as she theatrically crosses her arms.

"What was the deal?" You ask Sarah playfully.

"She found out I driving in this direction for work and she begged me to take her to see ya before I dropped her at school," Joel explains with a smirk and a shrug from the front seat. "Drove by your place to see if you wanted a lift but you’d already left.”

You try to hide a pleased smile.

“Do you have a sec? If not we understand."

You love seeing them and you love that Sarah was so eager to see you.

"I always have time for Sarah," you say turning your attention back to the squirming girl in the backseat. "So what's up?"

Sarah reaches beside her in the car seat and you expect to see toad flying out of her pocket. Instead it's a glittery piece of stationary with the image of a frog in a tutu dancing with a party hat on.

"My birthday party," she explains handing you the card. "Can you come?"

"Your birthday party is finally here?" You say, feeling your heart melt as you see she's filled in all the information herself in her wide, crooked lettering. "How old are you turning? 20? 25? Can you finally rent a car?"

Sarah giggles at this, shaking her head. “I’m turning six.”

You look at the information. McDonalds and mini golf. You used to have parties like that when you were little. It makes you feel nostalgic for a life not overshadowed by poor memories.

"It's a small party," Joel explains from the front seat. "Just Tommy and Maria, Tess and Daniel and Sarah's friend from school."

"Jessie," Sarah tells you. "She's my best friend since I was four."

She says this like it's a relationship that has weathered many seasons. The party sounds like it's an intimate affair and you wonder if that means you shouldn't go. Yes, you want to be part of Sarah’s life and yes, you love her but Tess will be there and it's too hard for you to pretend like you don't care that she's with Joel.

You glance at the date on the shining card stock where Joel has obviously helped her to print the date: this Saturday.

"We're having ice cream cake," Sarah explains. "I get vanilla and chocolate."

"Lucky girl!" You enthuse before your eyes dart to Joel in the front seat. He's looking between you and Sarah in the rear view mirror, his gaze unreadable.

"Yep!" Sarah shouts this giggling madly and kicking her feet. Her little boots bump against the car seat, squeaking as she speaks rapidly. "I'm gonna have so many pieces-"

"Time to go, say goodbye," Joel says in a playful voice before he starts the engine again, seeing that Sarah's attention now firmly rests on what she's going to be eating on Saturday.

"Wait daddy! Are you coming to my birthday?" Sarah asks you with wide eyes before her dad can hit the gas pedal.

Maybe you could back off a little bit with Sarah. Just for a bit. Just until I can wedge myself in there, ya know?

You made a promise to Tess. Not one you wanted to make, not one that feels particularly fair, but one that you agreed to. You look from the sweet child to the sweet man in the front seat and feel your heart aching. You want so much for them both to be happy. And this means you need to pull back, just a little bit.

"Sarah, this is so nice of you to invite me," you enthuse. "But uh, unfortunately this Saturday I have plans. I can't make it."

You aren't expecting the devastation that crosses Sarah's face. Her crumpling face makes your heart sink.

“But you and me we’ll go to the movies or something, just us, and I'll still totally get you a present!" You promise, reaching through the window and cupping her warm cheek in your hand. "What were you wanting?"

"That's not necessa-" Joel starts from the front seat.

"Because I want to," you say speaking over Joel. "I'll make sure to give it to your dad so you get it before the party. Just tell me what you want."

Sarah's tears are warm and cover your thumbs. She pulls her face away from you, rubbing at her eyes as she tries to stop crying. You feel wretched.

"We better go," Joel grumbles as he shifts into gear.

The gap widens.

///

She’s sobbing.

His little girl is sobbing.

He can’t remember the last time he saw Sarah this upset. She’s in his lap in the front of the truck and he’s rocking her back and forth, murmuring soothing words as he rubs at her back. She’s too upset to go to daycare quite yet, so they’re in the parking lot.

You were lying. Lying to Sarah of all people. What the fuck is wrong with you?

He’d seen the indecision in your eyes that morning, almost felt the panic you had as you looked over the invitation. What was the problem? Was it that Paul wasn’t invited? He’d invite the entire fucking neighborhood if that’s what it took.

“I don’t w-wanna stupid party anymore,” Sarah hiccups, her body shuddering with the effort of trying to stop her crying. Her little arms around his neck and her forehead pressed to his cheek. “I don’t want one.”

“Sarah,” Joel offers diplomatically, pulling her back so he can look at her face. “Now you’re actin’ silly. You love parties.”

“Not without her. She makes cupcakes and tells me stories.”

“She said she was gonna take you out, just the two of you. I bet if you asked she’d make you your favorite cupcakes,” Joel insists, wiping at her runny nose with a tissue from his glove box. “Babygirl, sometimes grownups get busy.”

“Not her,” Sarah says wiping at her eyes even as fresh tears replace the old. “She loves me.”

“She does love you,” Joel insists, his heart seizing. “Loving you has nothing to do with coming to your party. So many people that love you will be at your party. I love you and Uncle Tommy loves you and-”

“Maybe she loves me like Mommy does?” Sarah asks, her lower lip trembling as she tries to understand, to rationalize you as a grown up. “Love but from far away?”

///

You left work early. You couldn’t concentrate on the tasks at hand. All you could think of was Sarah and how upset she’d been. You know you’re only doing what Tess asked. You’re backing off, giving her space to bond with Sarah.

It’s supposed to be the right thing, but it hurts so much. The kind of pain you feel you can taste in your mouth, bitter and metallic.

But you would want the same if Paul had a kid, wouldn’t you? You’d want to bond with the child that brings the man you care for such joy. The conversation you had earlier in the week with Paul makes your stomach flip, but not quite pleasantly.

There's a large knock at your door and you open it only to have Joel standing there looking as if he’s about to open fire.

“Joel?”

“Can I come in?”

You take a step backward, confused and a little wary. He looks furious. More furious than you can recall. His hands are at his sides and you note that he’s rubbing the fingertips together in agitation.

“Is everything-“

"So that promise you made about always being there for Sarah? Loving her?" Joel interrupts, walking in at your gesture. "I guess that was all bullshit?"

"No, I meant it," you defend immediately, closing the door behind you with a slam. “And I am. I just can’t come to her party on Saturday.”

“Because you have plans?”

“Yes.”

“You think I don’t know when you’re lyin’?” Joel says, his eyes swimming over your face. “You think I can’t see it in your eyes? I thought we were past this? Tell me the truth. Why aren’t you coming?”

You don’t want to answer him. But you know you have to.

“Because she doesn’t need me there,” you answer in half-truth. “She has Tess now. I figured I should ease off a bit. Give you guys some room.”

"She's not askin' for Tess, she's askin" for you!" Joel insists angrily, his drawl more pronounced when he's upset. Joel loves his daughter, he loves her so much and you've hurt her. You can see the anger in the tightness of his jaw, in the burning coals of his dark eyes.

It frightens you to see Joel this angry and you lash out.

"Stop yelling at me!" you shout at him, not acknowledging the irony. “Or you can get the fuck out of my place!”

Joel falters, realizing that he’s come in too hot, too aggressive.

"She keeps saying she doesn't wanna have a party if you're not there," he says, his voice dropping a bit as if he’s just now recognizing the volume and severity. "Says it won't feel like a real party without you."

"Well I didn't know that," you throw back at him. "I thought it was more of a family thing. I didn't wanna intrude."

"You're not intruding. You're family to her. So are you coming or not?" Joel insists. He's panting now, coming down from his furious high.

Maybe you could back off a little bit with Sarah? Just for a bit. Just until I can wedge myself in there, ya know?

Tess’ plea for you to stay away is ignored, pushed away by the sight of Sarah’s father glaring down at you.

No, not just because Joel is upset.

But because you have no intention of staying away from Sarah. If Tess wants Joel and Sarah she has to understand that you’ll be there in the peripheral, fighting for your place. You left Joel and Sarah once and it was the worst thing you could have done, you refuse to do it again.

"Yes,” you say softly. "Of course I'll come. What time?"

"Three."

"Fine."

Joel's voice is a soft rasp now. You take a step back, just as he steps forward.

"Fine."

It's like your bodies are magnets.

You keep trying to pull back from one another but it feels inevitable when you finally crash together.

Joel's hands are immediately fisting through your hair, tugging it so your head tilts back and he can move his mouth over yours. Your arms are around his neck, holding him tightly as you moan against his parting lips.

Your bodies are both trembling with need as Joel backs you against the wall, his eyes shut as he kisses you deeply. His knee comes to rest between your thighs and his hips press against yours fervently. You can feel him there, hard and thick through his denim.

So good. So good.

He licks into your mouth, curling his body around yours as you cling to him, desperate to feel everything. In a daring move your hands skate under his flannel and you feel the smooth, taught warmth of his broad back under your hands. He lets out a small moan into your mouth as goose bumps rise under your fingertips.

You’re quivering, full body shudders of desire that have your breath coming out in little quakes. Joel tilts his head so he can hear every sound, groaning lowly as your hips begin to slide along his thigh.

The friction of his jeans and the seam of yours hits perfectly, causing you to hiccup a gasp, pulling up. You quiver, your entire body shuddering as Joel urges you down against his thigh again, his own hips moving in tandem as you do. Your arms are on his shoulders, holding him.

One of his hands is palm flat above your shoulders on the wall at your back, balancing you both. The other is at the base of your spine, guiding you, urging you to grind harder against him. You do, feeling the arousal pooling between your legs.

Joel pulls back to look at you heavy-lidded with a mouth swollen from his lips. He watches your hips moving to rub against his thigh, your own thigh brushing his stiffened cock under the jeans. He’s aching, physically throbbing as he groans again, his brows saddling and his head falling forward.

“Tell me to stop,” he rasps in your ear.

It’s not a dare from Joel, it’s a beg. A needful beg for you to be the one to stop things. For you to be the one that reminds him it’s wrong. For you to see that he’s completely undone, unable to stop himself.

"Don’t stop," you moan, tilting your head so that he has better access to trace his tongue along your neck. He does so, pressing you tighter to the wall until it’s not just his thigh you’re riding, but almost rutting up against his hips.

You grip him around the neck, your mouth panting against the slope where his shoulder meet the base of his neck. With a sound of delight Joel is coaxing you to take what you need, that he’s got you.

You can feel him hard against you and you have the strongest desire to reach into his jeans and just hold him, thick and twitching in your palm.

“Joel I w-wanna t-touch-” you begin, your words stopping sharply as the seam of your jeans hits that sweet spot.

You hear his smile, because your eyes are slammed shut as he begins to rub himself against you at an achingly slow pace.

“You first, honey,” he rasps against your jaw and this time you embrace the endearment as it slips past his lush lips. “Need to hear those sounds you make.”

"F-fuck," you gasp out. It's nothing like Paul or James.You’re fully clothed, your riding his fucking thigh and yet you feel electric. If it were anyone else you’d laugh at the sight of two grown people dry humping against a wall, but with Joel it’s the hottest thing you can imagine outside of full-blown sex.

His eyes are open now and staring at your face as you begin to crest whimpering his name. Your eyes crack open and in silent communion you watch each other. The darkening of Joel’s irises as his pupils expand, the flush of your cheeks and neck.

"Are you gonna come?" he's murmuring in awe before he’s pressing kisses to the corner of your mouth a as you rut against his jeans. "Already? I can’t believe… So fucking beautiful. . .”

You feel beautiful when you arch out against him and whimper that yes, you’re close and that you can’t stop. Both of his broad hands are on your hip, urging your body more firmly against his muscled thigh.

"Please come for me," he groans as he presses wet kisses along your jaw. “I need it.”

You feel the ripples of pleasure taking you over, your nipples tightening painfully under your shirt. You arch again, tilting your head back as you moan lowly.

“There she goes,” Joel marvels as he watches your eyes roll back into your head as you buck against him. And when the orgasm rolls through you, devastatingly fast, it's his name on your tongue as you surrender to the pleasure that consumes you, collapsing against his shoulder as you come down.

Then there is nothing heard but your mutual panting, your face buried in the crook of his neck as he presses you against the wall, holding you there. You give a shuddering whimper as Joel slowly brings his thigh from between your legs.

As he does this, it’s like he drains you of your lustful haze.

What did you just do?

Paul.

Tess.

"What the fuck," you shoving the hair from your feverish face. You push away from Joel and in a daze he stumbles back, his eyes pitched black as he stares at you.

"What are we doing?"

"I don't know," Joel says slowly, his eyes unable to stop travelling the length of you. “But I don’t want to stop.”

“We have to stop! That was so fucking wrong Joel,” you say, your heart thundering.

You feel a sick pit in the bottom of your stomach, this dreadful realization that you’ve just done something so incredibly selfish. Tears slip down your cheeks, full of guilt and shame. Joel’s eyes immediately sharpen and he cups your face in his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Joel says pressing gentle kisses to your cheeks, trying to dry them of your tears. “I’m so sorry, honey-“

He crowds you, holding you to him as he kisses your cheeks tenderly. This motion is meant only to give you comfort. Your hands go to his wrists on either side of your face, wanting to tear his hands away, needing to breathe.

But it’s Joel.

You move your head so that now his lips inadvertently brush your mouth and not your cheek. And suddenly one hand is cupping the back of your head and the other is banding against your back, pulling you into him because his head is tilted and your lips are against his and you’re kissing him, holding to the back of his neck and kissing him so ardently you feel breathless.

Now you're licking into his mouth and whimpering and its your needy hands sliding from his chest up to the neck of his flannel, trembling fingers trying to undo the button closest to his sternum. Now it’s Joel who stops, pulling back from your mouth and panting down at you. You feel your entire world tilting in that gaze.

He says your name, slow and breathy and you feel everything in those syllables. Never before has your name sounded so laced with sensuality.

And that’s the fucking problem. You blink up at him, trying to clear your head.

Tess. Paul. Marmalade.

“Joel I- we can’t be alone together anymore.”

“It was – “ Joel wants to defend himself, to explain that this was just a one-time slip up. But he knows that’s not true. Knows that if you gave him the word he’d take you to the bed right now and fuck you until you couldn’t walk.

"You should go."

"Sarah’s party – “

"I’ll be there," you say as you herd him towards the door like some frazzled, still-horny border collie. "But until then we need to stay away from one another. And right now you gotta go, Paul is coming over."

Joel is in the frame of the open door about to leave when he turns around.

“Tell me you’re happy with him.”

“I am.”

“Happier than with me?”

You’re about to respond but then you hear the sound of footsteps on gravel approaching and you jerk back. Paul is coming around the corner to the door, he sees Joel's broad shouldered frame in the door just as you two break apart.

"Hey."

Joel turns with a start to see a smiling Paul making his way to the door. Your face is tense and you wonder if he guesses what just went on between you and Joel. If he does, his face doesn’t show it.

“Joel, this is a surprise.”

"Yup," Joel nods, "I was just inviting your girl to Sarah's birthday. You should come too. More the merrier."

His girl?

Joel looks so casual as he says this, as if he didn’t just make you come seconds ago in this very suite.

"When is it?"

"Saturday afternoon."

Paul enters into the suite and pecks a kiss to your cheek. He misses when Joel narrows his eyes at that.

"Works for me, what about you, baby?"

You wince at the nickname. It's not that you hate it; you just hate hearing it in front of Joel. The man whose eyes are boring into your face so intensely you feel flustered.

"Yep. Of course we’ll be there."

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #smut #fanfic #fanfiction #dad joel miller #pedro pascal #thigh riding #reader #you are reader #wall sex #joel miller is a giver #joel miller dirty talk #dirty talk #series #a03

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bluekidchaos · 7 months

Text

Kinktober day 2 - Daryl Dixon

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

Prompt: Virginity

Warnings: 18+, Oral (m + f receiving), awkward first time, hand-job, masturbation, age gap

Words: 1.7k

Can also be read on AO3!

Kinktober masterlist. Regular masterlist.

You and Daryl had been dating for a while now, making it official once you found the peace and privacy of the prison walls. In the world before your relationship would've been unconventional, he was 15 years older than you, but you came to find that stuff didn't matter as much once you've experienced the fall of society. The two of you had developed a special bond pretty quickly and slowly fell in love. Daryl took a bit longer to truly open up and trust you but when he did it made your heart ache for him, all that he had to endure, and the fact that he would trust you with this information. Suppose one could say you fell first but he fell harder. He was head over heels for you, he would walk through fire for you if needed.

Pretty quickly into the relationship you told Daryl about the fact that you were still a virgin, it was a conversation you dreaded. Imagining that he probably had plenty of experience, but to your surprise, he had told you that he also was a virgin. It eased your mind to know and he assured you that sex wasn't a dealbreaker. "We'll take it slow, take it at our own pace," Daryl looked out over the prison yard from the lookout tower. "If ya' never wanna do it that's fine with me. No pressure y'know." You smiled at his reassuring words and rested your head on his shoulder, giving his hand an appreciative squeeze.

A month later and the sexual tension between you was unbearable. Maggie was constantly joking about how you were so tense all the time and just needed to get laid, she wasn't wrong. You wanted Daryl badly and you knew he felt the same. You just didn't feel ready to have sex yet and the consequences of sex became twice as bad in the apocalypse. Luckily for you, there are plenty of other things a couple could do when penetration is not in the equation. That's how you found yourself on your knees in front of Daryl in your shared cell.

"You sure, sunshine? You really don't gotta do this." His concern for your comfort was sweet but you think you'd explode if you didn't get your hands -or mouth- on him soon.

You smiled up at him and let your hands rest on his thighs, his pants already pulled down. "I promise, D. I wanna do this, please let me do this." You tilted your head a little and gave Daryl your best puppy eyes, knowing he couldn't refuse you.

He groaned at your words and looked into the ceiling as if praying, "Fuck, sweetheart. Yer gonna be the death of me." Daryl leaned back on his arms, looking down at you with adoration and love. He couldn't believe how he got so lucky.

You started slowly, feeling things out. Letting your nails drag over his skin, his cock twitching to life by your actions. Rising a bit so you were closer to his lap and bringing a hand to his dick, wrapping around him and slowly stroking. Daryl let out a quiet sigh.

You were mesmerized by his member, the way it looked - not too long but a bit on the thicker side- and the way it felt heavy in your hand. Experimentally you lowered your head down and gave his tip a few kitten licks, hearing him moan encouraged you to lick longer stripes up the length of his cock. "Is that okay?" He let a strangled 'yeah' out before giving another moan at your next couple of licks.

Feeling more confident from Daryl's reaction you tried taking him in your mouth, closing your lips over his tip, and lowering your head. You tried to remember all the 'sex tips' you'd read back in the day in those stupid women's magazines. You started bobbing your head, taking half of him in your throat before feeling your gag reflex react. You pulled back up to cough and try again. Daryl was watching you the whole time, making sure you were okay but also just marveling at the view of you before him, pleasing him so willingly.

You struggled to take all of him because of your -apparently- sensitive gag reflex and you made a frustrated noise, feeling disappointed in not being able to satisfy Daryl properly.

He could tell you were getting a bit upset and brought a hand down to cup your cheek, making you look up at him. "I'm sorry, I don't know how to do this properly." He scoffed at your statement.

"Nah, yer doin' real good for me alright, just maybe focus on the tip and like.. use your hand for the rest?" He bent down to kiss you, letting his tongue sneak into your mouth for just a moment before pulling away.

Feeling a bit more motivated again you did as Daryl instructed and only took his tip in your mouth again while using your right hand to stroke the rest of him. Letting your tongue swirl around his most sensitive part while twisting and stroking his dick.

Daryl had become a moaning mess above you in a matter of seconds, encouraging you to continue and spilling praise. "Fuuck, sweetheart. Doing so good, shit your mouth feels like heaven." He threw his head back almost hitting it on the concrete wall behind him, hissing and bucking his hips up into your mouth. "I'm gonna.."

Your ears perked at that and you slowed down your movements before removing your mouth from him. "I don't think I want it in my mouth." You almost whispered at him, anxious he would be mad but he once again put your fears to rest.

"Shit, it's okay. Come here, let me take of you now." He had sat up and pulled your arms so you rose from the floor and landed straddling his lap. "Yer fucking amazing, you know that?" He planted a few sloppy kisses all over your face, making you giggle, before shifting you under him.

While Daryl was busy kissing over your stomach and down to your center, taking your pants off, you shrugged off the shirt you had been wearing. Hoping the air of the prison cell would cool down your heated skin. Leaving you in only a very basic and unsexy sports bra. You wish you could have been wearing something sexier, or at least a regular bra but Daryl was looking up at you from between your legs like you were the sun.

"Ready?" God, he was a gentleman, always checking in with you. You loved that about him, he was always so considerate. You nodded vigorously at him but he didn't move, he wanted a verbal confirmation.

"Yes! Daryl, please." Daryl chuckled at your eagerness and planted a kiss right on your clit making you moan. You hadn't known what to expect from Daryl, you had only experienced this once before and it had been nowhere near this good.

He was tracing his tongue from the bottom to the top, letting it flick as it reached your swollen clit. One of his hands -that had previously rested on your thighs- moved to join the equation and while his mouth was focused on sucking and licking the clit he slipped two fingers inside you. You were impossibly wet from having sucked him off earlier and there was zero resistance as your hole accommodated his fingers.

Daryl was playing you like an instrument, his fingers hitting a delicious spot inside you while his mouth worked magic on your most sensitive part. You couldn't do anything but moan and writhe beneath him, bucking your hips into his face.

Your hand darted down to tug on his hair, pulling him closer to you. "Shit, fuck, D. I think... I'm gonna cum." Daryl quickened his efforts at that, adding a third finger inside you and sucking harder. You could feel your stomach tighten at that and after he hit that amazing spot inside you again and again the coil inside you snapped.

Both your hands were buried in Daryl's hair, holding him to you, almost smothering him. Your whole body tensed and you felt pleasure course through you like you had never felt it before.

Your body finally relaxed and you let go of Daryl's hair. He had risen and now sat on his knees between your open legs, his eyes were raking over your body and you could see his face shining a bit from your juices. As you were looking at him you realized he was still rock hard and leaking pre-cum. "Oh! You didn't get to cum."

Daryl grinned a bit at you, "We ain't done yet, darlin'." He climbed over you and straddled your stomach. "You wanna do it or should I?"

You reached your hand out to him and closed your fist around him. Starting slow but fastening the pace as he bucked into your hand. Watching Daryl fall apart above you from just your hand was hypnotic.

"Ngh, quick, take your bra off. Wanna cum on your perfect tits." It took you a second but then you made quick work of removing your bra, it probably didn't look as sensual as you wanted it but it didn't seem to matter to Daryl.

He was stroking himself at a fast pace now, watching you. You decided to tease him a bit. Moving your fingers over your boobs slowly, circling your nipples and pinching them. Moving back and pushing your breasts together. "C'mon, D. Cum on me. Claim me as yours."

That was the final straw for him, his body twitched and spurts of white shot out of his tip and painted your tits. "Holy shit." Is all he could get out before slumping onto the bed next to you, breathing heavily.

Daryl started rummaging around the clothes on the bed before whipping out his red rag and cleaning up his cum and yours with it. Wiping his face last before throwing it back and turning you around so he could look into your eyes. His eyes held so much adoration. "I really love ya, ya know?"

You kissed over his face, his nose, his cheeks, and ending on his mouth. Slow and sensual, he answered your kiss. Letting his actions speak for themself. "I really love you too, D."

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut

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13keithxpidge13 · 10 months

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Hey! I saw your post asking for aob miles/hobie/gwen/pav asks and I love exploring the possibilities of an aob world outside of smut (though the smut is also fun). Loved your post about scenting! What do you think of this: it's post a particularly rough mission, they're all tired and bruised up, and someone (I'd love it if it was Miles) slips into a slight feral state of mind where they lose speech and they're acting on their instincts without thinking about it. Their friends don't notice it until they start trying to herd everyone someplace safe, but when they do notice they decide to just go along with it. And then they nest together. I love nesting and I think it would be cute. Bonus points for, if it's Miles, this incident is what makes him realize that his teammates have become pack to him.

Just an idea! Love you 😘

OKAY THIS IDEA IS SO GOOD BUT I'M GONNA SWITCH IT UP!

It's a rough, awful mission yeah and Miles is badly injured. His friends rush everywhere to try and find him and finally find him behind some rubble next to a destroyed building. Gwen goes to reach for him but Hobie snatches her back and holds her securely against his side.

"Hobie!" She gasps out. "What are you doing?! Miles is hurt-!"

"Look," He whispers, tense and unsure and Gwen blinks before turning back to Miles who is curled in on himself and breathing heavily but, something's in his arms...

A babe. A pup. An infant that can't be more than a few months old and Miles is protecting her.

"He's feral, right now," Hobie tells her. "If ya' try and get anywhere /near/ him, he'll fuck ya' up, Gwendy. He can't tell who's who and will attack anyone that tries to get near his pup, that's his mindset right now."

"Alphas will only set him off," Pav says, scared and nervous for their packmate. "What should we do? Call Miguel? Get Jess over here? She's a female alpha, maybe that'll calm him down more than a male alpha."

Hobie sighs and shakes his head. "Nah," He replies. "Callin' Miguel will only make things worse 'cause he'll get all fuckin' dramatic and try to rush down here to get to Miles. Ya' know how they are now, Miles is practically his pup in Miguel's eyes. Jess and Miles ain't close enough to form some kind of bond and ain't Peter out on 'notha mission right now?"

Gwen sighs. "...so what do we do?"

Hobie turns to Miles who is /glaring/ at them as his mask has fallen and he's breathing heavily, his scent sour and gross as the babe in his arms cries and wails.

His scent screams /don't you dare come the fuck over here, I'll fuck you up, motherfucker/.

But, they've gotta get the situation handled. Now.

"Stand back," Hobie says as he sets his guitar in Gwen's hands. "I gots an idea."

Then, he crouches down, attempting to make himself smaller and sweetens his scent so Miles knows he's not a threat. Pav and Gwen take multiple steps back, letting Hobie do his thing and they watch as he crawls ever so slightly closer to the feral Omega.

"Omega," Hobie whispers, inner alpha coming out to rumble softly. "Sweet thang', lemme get closer to ya', yeah?"

Miles growls and tenses up further.

Hobie coos and rumbles. "Omega," He tries again and gets even closer. "Not gon' hurt ya'...pretty pup ya' got there, yeah? Takin' such good care of her. Such a good momma, ain't ya'?"

Miles breathes heavily and then contemplates for a few moments before nodding.

Hobie hums. "Yeah...but, yer hurt, baby. Gotta get ya' and the babe checked out, hm? Don't wantcha gettin' infected, okay? So, can ya' trust me and come with us, hun?"

After another fifteen minutes of coercion, miles finally let's the alpha into his personal space and Hobie immediately begins to scent his neck, trying to see if it can get Miles back online with them. It does the trick because moments later, he's blinking and his eyes come back to full awareness.

"...Hobie?" He croaks, voice rough from all the growling he had done. "What...what happened?"

"Just got a lil' territorial on us, is all," Hobie tells him softly and Miles glances down at the baby girl in his arms and twitches.

"A-ah," His cheeks darken in embarrassment. "I'm sorry."

"Nothin' ya' got ta' apologize for, babydoll," Hobie tells him as Gwen and Pav rush over to comfort their packmate and Miles accepts all their kisses and scenting with a wet smile.

"Just glad yer safe."

#punkflower #hobie x gwen #pavitr x gwen #pavitr x hobie #miles x hobie #gwen x hobie #pavitr x miles

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lazyneonrabbitt · 15 days

Text

Instincts

Daryl Dixon x reader

Daryl finds a woman with her newborn pup, taking them into the group. Slowly their bond grows stronger.

The group traveled by foot after losing their vehicles. Tired and worn they walked on the road when Daryl decided to move into the woods to hunt while the others rested.

"Don't leave for too long, we gotta find shelter." Were the last words he caught before he walked off.

He got lucky finding two squirrels rather quick, but his nose caught a different scent he couldn't ignore.

With the squirrels strung over his shoulder he moved through the forest, not a sound as he stalked low to the ground and using all his heightened senses to seek out the source of the scent. He usually never went after anything other than food on these short hunts, but his instincts were screaming to go with his guts and follow his nose on this one.

The scent grew stronger and he could now tell apart all the separate ones. Human, low to the ground. And wolf, like him. He was either walking into something amazing, or he walked to his doom. He'd find out soon enough seeing his target wasn't moving.

"Hey, ouch! Come on, what did I tell you about those teeth.." a sigh left your lips as you softly rubbed the cheek of your son, who was nursing huddled against your torso as you sat against a large tree, partially hidden by low greenery. "God damn, what child has teeth this sharp at a couple days old.."

You were so focused on the feeding child that you didn't catch the man who appeared from behind the tree until a crossbow was aimed at you.

The second you saw you curled around your child, eyes closed and waiting for it tk be over.

Daryl heard the voice of a woman complain. Teeth, babies. Weird. But he now had her location pinpointed to behind a large tree, and made quick strides to round the tree, crossbow at the ready.

The woman came into view and so did her child. He watched her duck around it and waited, but Daryl dropped his crossbow instead and turned around before the blush creeping up on his face could be seen.

"M'sorry. Didn' mean ta watch ya feed." You watched the man's back, one hand lifted and the other holding his crossbow loosely. You shuffled your layers back over your chest with lots of vocal protests of the fuzzy newborn in your arms. His whines and grumbles were so strange to you, never had you heard a newborn sound like that. But then again, you never had seen a newborn like this.

"So, what's a human doin' with a werewolf pup on 'er own? Where's dad?" He still had his back to you and kept his distance, knowing full well he needed to keep his scent off the new mom and child if he wanted to survive. Male werewolves were insanely protective of their newborns.

"Human mom's traveling with her son, surviving like everyone else out here." You weren't going to respond to that last bit. Not now, not yet.

"Righ, if yer alone ya can tag along. Got a group tha' won't mind havin' ya an' the pup." He had turned his head and peeked if you were decent again, fully turning to catch your response when he saw you were covered up. "How do you know what he is? You're too okay with this."

Daryl let out a soft, breathy laugh and sat on his haunches to be at eye level with you. "They're common where I'm from." His voice was so calm as you stared at the smile on his face. You watched him stare at your son who was squirming in your arms. He was restless and you couldn't understand why.

"If yer comin' I gotta ask ya sum questions." Daryl was back on his feet again, ready to start heading back.

"I want to join you." Your answer was quickly given, much to Daryl's surprise. "I'm alone, and have no clue how to raise him so if I can stick around and get help from people who know his kind I'd be forever grateful."

Daryl let out a grunt of approval and nodded for you to follow him as you both exchanged names. He still made sure to keep a respectful distance from you in case dad was still around, but easily led you all back to the road where his group still rested.

"Hey! Daryl's back." "Wait, who's that?" "He found someone?"

"Did you ask her?" Rick's voice cut through the chatter and watched his friend shake his head no. He stepped over to you but was held back by a strong arm before he could get close, only letting out a simple warning. "Keep yer distance."

You watched the man give Daryl a look before turning back to you. "So, miss. How many walkers have you killed?"

You gave him a funny look, unsure who in their right mind kept track of something like that. "A bunch. Mostly avoided them lately, I assume you can guess why." You gave the pup in your arms a look, but averted your eyes back to the other man who continued his questionnaire. "How many people have you killed?"

Fuck. "Two."

"Why?" The question came so fast you had no time to even think.

"First one turned when we were asleep. Hid a bite and I'm a light sleeper." The man raised his brows, a clear sign he was waiting for number two.

"I killed his dad." You nodded to the pup again. "Tried to kill me and take him when my water broke. Guy was a psycho." You looked down at your arms, bundling your son even closer to you at the memory.

Suddenly Daryl stepped closer to you, holding out a hand and watching as the almost fully black furred pup stared at him with big eyes and made grabby hands at his fingers.

"Ya had him on yer own?" You nodded at Daryl's question and ran a hand through your son's fur. "I'm still sore.. having to move around immediately after is the absolute worst."

Seeing you were alone and with a child you weren't seen as a threat and allowed to travel with the group, much to your relief. You never expected your life to get even a little bit better, but now that you were traveling along with more folks you felt content. They watched your back when you fed your son and had a very handsome man help you feed him leftover meats from his hunts.

You were falling for him. Your son was absolutely in love with the man and you were starting to head in that direction too.

It wasn't helping your case that you r son wouldn't let anyone else but you and Daryl carry him, so when your arms were too sore to keep going he had to step in and stay close to you.

Your group shared dog meat and cheered in the rain, all the way to the point of the rain turning into a storm and having to run to seek shelter.

That’s how you ended up where you were now, all together huddled in a barn, desperately trying to catch up on some sleep while Rick kept first watch, but your don wasn’t helping the situation at all. He was whining his little lungs out with no signs of stopping. You had walked around with him, tried to breastfeed and give him some meat but he wanted none of it. Carol had offered to look him over but quickly retreated when a small clawed paw swiped at her when she reached out for his tummy. You were desperate, on the verge of tears as soft sniffles escaped your lips. Not being able to quiet down the whining pup was bad enough already, to have you crying on top of that would be the absolute worst. You pulled him close to your chest, his side against the soft flesh of your exposed chest, hoping the feel of your warmth would help but again it did nothing.

On the other side of the barn Daryl had settled, just around a corner and out of view. He had been trying to sleep for longer than most, but was having a much worse time than them. The pup’s whines weren’t directed at the others. They were for him.

With the distance between him and you there was no chance you’d hear his frustrated growls under his breath. Each peak in whines had him quietly snarl until eventually he couldn’t handle the child’s desperate cries anymore.

“Can ya tell yer kid I ain’t his goddamn dad?!” His voice rang through the barn, a deep growling tone to it that scared you so bad you lost the ability to hold back the tears you were trying to keep at bay, and had your pup go from whining to full on crying. Loud scraping howls and cries shook his tiny body, no attempts to shush him succeeding.

On the other end of the barn you could hear the soft groans of Judith waking up and quickly joining the chorus of cries. With her awake and crying now as well the mood in the whole barn dropped to a heavy negative. On one end you tried to shush the pup and on the other end the rest of the women huddled around the young girl to quiet her down.

From your angle you could see Abraham sit up from his spot next to Daryl who remained hidden behind a low wall. You watched the large man reach out his arm and whack it beside him, earning him an annoyed snarl from where Daryl laid. “Get yer ass up to the lady and her pup so we can all get some shut-eye.” Another rude snarling noise sounded and it was returned with another harsh smack. “Get movin’ or I’m gonna get the lady and plant her pretty little self and the noisemaker in your lap myself.”

Abraham’s words made you softly giggle, but you quieted down when a tired grunt came from beside him and Daryl came into view. He rubbed a hand over his face and stretched out his back as he moved over to you with his sleeping bag in hand. “Move over.” His voice was stern, and you complied immediately, scooting over to make space for him between you and the low wooden wall. With his appearance the pup’s cries had gone down to sniffles and hiccups, his paws outstretched in Daryl’s direction while he was laying out his sleeping bag.

On his way to lay down your pup managed to wiggle himself from your grasp and clamp himself around Daryl’s arm, who had to pry him off while you apologized on his behalf.

“Ain’t yer fault.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he laid down and pulled the pup against his chest. With his one free arm he grabbed you by the shoulder and pulled you closer too, laying you opposite him with the pup nestled in between you. Almost immediately he calmed down and curled up to sleep. “M’sorry fer yellin’. Jus’ tired.”

You forgave him immediately, thanking him for going out of his comfort zone and sleeping with the two of you.

The barn was finally quiet, safe for the rain still pouring outside, and sleep soon took over.

The next morning you woke up to a pain in your chest. Jerking up you almost smacked Daryl who was now grumbling as he was woken up by your sudden movement.

He watched you sit up with a hand covering your breast, inspecting it by peeking down the neckline of your shirt while an eager furball made grabby hands at your chest.

“I think I’m gonna head out the door and feed him. Need some fresh air after last night..” Daryl followed suit after your words, he had some confessions to make and properly apologize for making your son behave the way he did last night. You watched him follow you from the corner of your eye and held the door ajar for him. With a soft thanks he shut the barn door behind him, crossbow in hand. He still kept his back to you as you sat down against the outside of the barn and got ready to feed the pup. He's always turn away until you started talking again, signaling you were decent enough.

You watched Daryl pace in front of you, chewing the side of his thumb in thought. "Hey, what's wrong?" Truth being, his pacing was making you really nervous.

He let out a groan and stopped his pacing, now nervously shifting his weight from one foot to another. "We gotta talk. S'about the pup." He shook off his nerves and sat down with you.

"Was he really crying for you last night? You yelled at him about not being his dad." You knew that. He was a kind stranger who helped you with your child.

"He kept whinin' fer me ta hold 'em." He's unsure how to continue. He had to tell you the truth before the pup entirely imprinted on him, if it wasn't already too late.

"Back when I found ya it weren't by chance. Picked up yer scent an' sniffed ya out. Got excited when I caught 'nother wolf."

He watched your face go from focused to confused at his last sentence. Deciding words weren't going to help him right now he raised his hand into view, taking a deep breath and letting his claws come out. Fhe skin of his finger pads darkened as his nails thickened and extented into full claws. "Pup thinks 'm his dad. Didn' think it'd happen so quick, m'sorry."

As you watched Daryl's hand change, yous son squirmed out of your grasp with all his might and plopped into Daryl's lap and grabbed at his wrist.

"So, we co-parent now? You know I'm mkre than fine being with a werewolf." Oh god, those weren't the words you meant. Yiu weren't telling him you were into him like that. Wait. Could he have sensed it already when you thought about it earlier?

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you watched him try to keep your son from climbing on top of him even more.

"Ya still ne'er named him, didya?" Daryl felt the change in energy and decided to change the topic. He remembered one of the women asking for the pup's name and you admitting to never giving him one. It was still something you ran through your mind every day, nothing seemed to fit.

The scene went silent aftet that, both adults watching the little furball as he dug his paws into the sand, fished out a worm and stuffed it in his mouth, swallowing it whole.

You scrunced up your nose at the action, but Daryl only smiled proudly and watched as the little black fuzz hopped around and jumped up to chomp at a fly, missing the first two times but catching it the third try.

"S'gon be a good hunter, tha' one."

Hunter.

"Little Hunter, huh?" It rolled nicely off the tongue, it fit. You looked his way and called for him. "Hey, pup. Hunter, come here." He quickly came back to you and plopped himself on top of you.

Daryl wanted to grab and hold you both close in congratulations of naming the little guy, but he wasn't the father. He should keep his respectful distance up, Hunter was only yours.

A lot of happened between then and now, where you sat on the porch steps of a home in a safe community.

Hunter rolled around in the grass in front of you and Daryl sat on the railing with his crossbow and a cloth in hand.

"Hey Daryl," It was Carol who came from the house, all dressed up nicely. "Have you showered yet?"

Daryl only grumbled at the question. "Sweety, why don't you go take a shower with him?" She aaked as she walked past you and watched you smile and saw Daryl's face turn beet red.

Not long after you arrived in the community Carol had taken you aside and told you about Daryl's feelings he couldn't put into words, and in turn her learning about your love for him too. Ever since then she had been trying to set you up.

You and Daryl already shared a room, still sleeping apart from each other but still actively being parents to Hunter. Daryl hated to admit it, but caring for your son helped with the anxiety surrounding his new home.

"You know, Dee? Catol makes a great point. Come on." You got up and motioned to Rosita to watch Hunter for you while you went to try something.

Walking over to Daryl you took his hand in your and softly tugged for him to follow and to your surprize he let himself be dragged into the house and up the stairs.

This was easier than you expected it to be, hsving him upstairs and in the bathroom with you in a matter of minutes.

When you let go of his hand and turned away to run the water you half expected him to run off, but when you turned back he stood at the sink. He was staring at you through the mirror.

"How come you're so distant again today? Yesterday you were good stepping up to me and hugging Hunter." Daryl was difficult to read, and you often needed Carol to translate for you, not that you could call her over now that you were trying to get closer to Daryl in this way.

His gaze kept following your movements in the mirror as you went to grab towels and place them near the tub, making sure you had all the needed soaps and shampoos and a brush and sponge at hand.

"It ain't jus' me in ma head, ya know tha' righ? Me, I wanna make sure m'not invadin' yer family 'n respect tha' he aint mine ta care for." He spoke while he watched you undress. His head told him to look away and be respectful, but somewhere a voice kept telling him you wanted this too. He had smelled it on you that you were happy and content around him, he only smelled love and adoration on you but with you never saying it was okay out loud he never acted on it. But now you took him here and stripped down to just panties and a shirt. "And what says the other you? The one that's staring at me right now?" He watched a wide smile appear on your face as yiu pointed at your eyes and then at him. He hadn't even noticed his eyes had changed as he listened to his feral side talk inside his head.

"Tells me m'wastin' time not bein' withya. Found someone who ain't afraid of us, survived havin' a pup. Keeps yappin' about havin' a perfect mate walkin' around fer me an' bein' a bitch fer not goin' for ya." It was clear in his voice he was struggling with this day after day, and you weren't making it easier by not just speaking your feelings to him. You led him here to confess, to have the balls to outright tell him what you felt for him in the privacy of the room.

Even barely dressed and inviting him into the shower he still didn't take the hint you wanted him. He needed the words so you gave them now. Standing beside him and turning to look at him you grabbed his leather vest and pushed it off his shouders.

"Daryl Dixon, both human half and wolf, listen to me." Your words made him turn to you, and just as it was easy to drag him up the stairs, it was easy now to undress him ever so slowly. "If you truly believe I'd be a good mate to you then, please.." You were giving him time to stop your hands as you ever so slowly pushed his shirt off his shoukders and followed his arms down to his hips. "I want you to make me your mate. Hunter has already claimed you as a dad and now I want us to admit to our feelings." Your fingers worked at his pants and got them open, but quit when his hands moved.

You thought he was going to stop you, but instead he reached for your shirt and lifted it over your head. "I wanna try withya. But ya gotta be patient with me, please." You, the human, had to be patient with the werewolf. It was adorable in a way, but you'd keep that to yourself.

"I promise to be patient with you. Except for right now, come and get your ass into the shower before Rosita gets tired of Hunter." With a laugh you undressed entirely and went to feel the water temperature and swap to the showerhead before stepping in. "I'm still telling you to join me in the shower, just to make sure you got the hint."

He may have been slow, mentally preparing for something so intimate, but he ended up in the tub with you. He sat half under the stream as you gave his hair a spa treatment and scrubbed his skin. You were scrubbing harsh, but he didn't mind. It felt nice to be rid of the grime and dirt for once. He felt good once you were done, and returned the favor with the utmost care. His touch was so soft, if you weren't facing him you barely believed it was him who cleaned you.

That night, long after retrieving Hunter and having a quiet family dinner you shared a bed for the first time. Just to sleep, nothing more.

Well, a bit more. Soft kisses, brushes of skin and cuddles were shared. Enjoying each other's warmth and find your space on the bed was the priority tonight.

The others all quickly caught the changes in your behavior about each other. The three of you were a real family all of a sudden and Carol gave herself a pat on the shoulder for getting her friends to be real with each other now.

With weeks passing you turned Daryl's downstairs room into his workplace slash quick nap spot and moved all the bedroom stuff upstairs and made a real, adult couple bedroom with a nook for Hunter's crib.

More weeks passed after moving into your new room and everything was so real now and it felt good, but nothing felt as good as certain words leaving Daryl's mouth after you came to an agreement a couple weeks prior.

"Smells so good, hun. Whatcha got cookin?" Daryl had just rolled out of bed after coming home late last night from a hunt. He sauntered over and wrapped his arms around your middle, hands resting on your stomach as he took a long whiff to take in all the scents swarming the kitchen.

You told him shat you were cooking as he followed your words with his nose. The fresh baked bread you went to grab early. The stew simmering in the pan and the eggs baking in the pan. But there was something else cooking, something you probably hadn't realized yet.

"Yer forgettin'bout yer oven, hun." You had yo know what he meant, you were so excited about it before.

"Dee, this kitchen has no working oven." You giggled as his chin scruff rubbed against your cheek as he kissed you there. "No tha' oven.." His hands spread over your stomach and squeezed soffly. "Ya smell even better than I hoped ya would."

You smelled different? You still used the same shampoo and soaps. And you couldn't remember you using a seriously different laundry soap either.

"Hun." Daryl had to stop you srirring the stew for a moment, turning off the heat under the eggs and turn you around. The irony of her joking about having to be direct with him to make him understand, and then now not getting it when he wasn't saying things literal.

"Ya smell pregnant." It was as direct as it could be. Straight to the point and perhaps the only way to bring this.

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You had your whole day planned full of tasks around the community, but you knew you weren't going to get anything done now.

But Daryl let you get back to your stew, staying stuck to your back with his hands massaging your belly.

"Can't believe it took so fast." You were thinking out loud now as you moved from stirring the stew to cutting the bread for the eggs.

"Well, ya better start believin' cuz tha' pup's gon' be here soon." Daryl was excited, for the first time in his life he felt like he wasn't that little fuckup redneck boy he was always made out to be. He was ready to be a father, and this time not of an adopted child but one of his own.

A/N: A very human were!Daryl this time.

#sometimes i write #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl #twd daryl dixon #twd #the walking dead #twd au #werewolves #werewolf

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