I Saw A Clip Of Adam Driver Smiling And Well, Um, Just Got Carried Away! Soft Boi Ben Solo Sometimes

I have never put a request in for a fic before, but here goes! Since Arthur canonically is a virgin, has childlike innocence and no idea how to interact with women, I'd love to read a fic about a friend helping him to understand what a woman would 'like'. Like having a 'mock' date, dancing, holding hands. But they wind up as a little more than friends; 'teaching and learning' is more of an excuse to get closer with each other since they'd secretly wanted it, but were too shy.

Yes! This is adorable and I love it! I'll get right on it darling ❤

Please please please can you write a oneshot of arthur and rich!reader meeting through a mutual friend and she absolutely spoils him with money and gifts and food and anything he'd ever need? With kind of a kinky undertone? Like he's her sugar baby even though he's like way older than her. She just absolutely takes care of him in every way, just wants to tie him up and make him cum and then take him out for a fancy dinner and buy him pretty things ok thank u for reading this mess

Aw, this is so cute. Wholesome. Yes. I'll start tomorrow ❤

Joker by Cameron Stewart *

Black Snake Moan, Joker x Reader

Ask: Could u please write a NSFW smut where reader teases joker and flirts with like one of his henchmen just to make him mad and then joker puts reader in her place and makes her know who she belongs too?!?!! Just really bratty reader with a kinky dom clown daddy joker 😩💦. Thankyou I LOVE YOUR WRITING!!! 💖

Warnings: Cursing, smut

Pairing: Joker x Reader

A/N: Hope you like this! I loved writing it!

***

The week had been going by painfully slow. Excitement was at an all-time low, even law enforcement hadn’t been making much noise. There was almost nothing to do, nothing to discuss in Joker’s midweek meeting, and it was driving you insane.

Even Joker himself had been eerily quiet. Normally he was full of life, full of excitement, he could always make a boring day fun. But there he sat at his makeshift desk in the dingy warehouse building, looking down at a few papers, paying you no attention.

And of course he had insisted, with you being his right-hand woman, you were to be with him at all times. So you sat in front of the desk reading a book, legs draped over the uncomfortable wooden chair, trying to get into it. The book itself was interesting enough, but your sex drive had been unusually high the past week and since Joker was too occupied in his mind he hadn’t noticed. Maybe he had noticed, maybe he was just too in his head to do anything about it.

You sat the book in your lap and glared at him, pondering how to get a rise out of him.

Sighing loudly, you bookmarked your page and slid the book onto his desk. He didn’t look up, of course, his eyes were still locked on the papers in front of him. What the hell was he doing, anyway? You leaned forward and saw he was going through his inventory. Some of his workers, or as he teasingly called them, his ‘henchmen’, reported they needed more Remmington ammunition and gun oil. It was his duty to send out recruits to get the supplies they needed since he had to sign off on it all. 

Maybe when your little ‘business’ became larger, he would have someone else to do it.

Hell, you could do it now. But Joker insisted that you never get your hands dirty doing things such as that, so if they got busted, there would be no trace of you. It was kind, but very, very restricting. Why were you his right-hand woman anyways? In most ways, you were basically an assistant, a very limited assistant at that. 

“You wanna take a break, sweetie?” You asked as you raised your feet to his desk, hoping to catch his eye. Joker had a thing for your feet, but not in an overly sensual way. He liked when you got pedicures, he loved giving foot rubs, it was a kind of domestic thing to him. Seeing you all pampered and clean made him feel a little less stressed.

But he didn’t even glance up, only giving you a half-assed grunt. You took it as a no.

“Well, I’m a little bored.” You continued on, flexing your toes in a pathetic attempt to get his attention. “Give me something to do.”

In any other situation, he would have glanced up, given you a devious smirk and beckoned you to slide under his desk and help him relieve some tension. But still, nothing.

You were about to turn up the heat and demand attention but one of his favorite goons, a young man named Jesse who had just turned twenty-five, walked into the room. He finally looked up from his desk and you felt a twinge of anger that Jesse could so easily get his attention, but you, the so-called ‘love of his life’, couldn’t.

“Ah, Jesse.” Joker leaned back in his chair and wrung his fingers together. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Jesse, wanting to do nothing else but please his boss, walked forward until he stood next to you and beamed. “Well, uh, Sir. I’m happy to tell you that Jeremiah and I got our hands on some top-secret files from the Wayne household.” 

“The ones I wanted?” Joker was suddenly in a much better mood, his eyes wide, a huge smile on his face. You wished you could have made him smile like that.

“Yes, Sir.” Jesse mirrored his smile and took out the folded papers from the inside of his Carhartt coat, handing them over to his boss. 

“Good work Jesse!” You stood from your chair, slipping your feet back into your sandals. Joker paid no mind as he scanned over the inked letters, mouthing the words to himself as he read. “You’re my favorite for a reason!” 

His face lit up as you praised him, it wasn’t often that Joker’s girl gave out compliments. The fact that you were paying him such special praise sent him sky-high with pride. “Thank you so much, ma’am.” He smiled as you took his face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs over your cheek. 

“Oh, don’t call me that.” Your plan was working. Joker finally was paying you attention, he had looked up the moment you touched Jesse in such an intimate way. “I’m your age, silly.”

Jesse continued to smile and dare I say blush, not sure how to handle the attention from a superior such as yourself. Joker was quick to hand out compliments, praise, and affectionate touches such as a clap on the back or a squeeze of the shoulder. But you?

You rarely ever did such things.

Not that you thought of yourself as too good for that, not at all. You just had never been the kind of person to do such a thing. You were the type of person to give a proud smile or a nod across the room, but you had never, ever, given direct affirmation, and definitely had never touched one of his ‘henchmen’ in that manner.

“Give me some sugar, sweetheart.” You smiled up at him turned your face so he could kiss your cheek, which he did without hesitation. He knew that one who hesitates, disintegrates. Especially with the monarch of the business. 

After his lips left your cheek you giggled and gave him a pat on the face. “Such a good boy, and so handsome too. How did we find you?” You almost felt guilty when you saw how bright his smile was and how he leaned into your warm hand. “Alright, you’re dismissed, I’m sure you have very important things to do.” You made your voice as sweet as possible, knowing that behind you Joker was boiling in his own skin. 

“Thank you,” Jesse almost said the word ‘ma’am’ again but stopped himself short. “Thank you, if you need anything, I’ll, I’ll, uh, I’ll be downstairs.” He left a stuttering, blushing mess, almost tripping over his two feet on the way out. Once the door closed you sat back down in your seat and picked up your book like nothing had happened.

You didn’t have to look at Joker to know you had driven him crazy. 

At first, he tried to act like nothing was wrong. He tried to force himself to focus on the new information, but as hard as he tried, he couldn’t push the images of Jesse kissing your cheek out of his mind. The damn look on the kids face, the way his cheeks reddened, it was the way you had made him look the first time you met. 

Joker cringed at the thought and ran his hands through his hair, letting out a groan as he pushed himself back in his chair. This time though, it was your turn to ignore his obvious grasps for attention. 

You flipped a page in your book, your brain not taking in the words at all. Your heart was beating far too fast for you to even try to read. You were just pretending at that point. It was enough to convince Joker, thankfully, and it was enough to frustrate him further.

“What the hell was that?” He finally broke the silence, crossing his arms across his chest.

You looked up from your book with a look of innocence on your face. “What, sweetie?”

His jaw clenched, the strain in his muscles extremely visible. The sight of it sent chills down your spine, the fact that he was staring you down across the table intensified it all. “You’re playing coy, and I don’t like it.” 

“Playing coy about what?” Your sentence slowly faded as Joker stood up from his chair and rounded the desk, standing in front of you within a few quick seconds. 

He kneeled down in front of you, running his hands up your legs. Your breath caught in your throat but you fought to remain nonchalant about it all, looking down at him with an even stare. As if you weren’t phased by the way his hands slid up your skirt. “Is it because I’m not giving you enough attention?” He muttered, not breaking eye contact. He battled with you as he ran his fingers over the skin on your thighs, almost winning the staring contest when the tips of his fingers dipped between them and barely brushed against the fabric of your panties. 

But you continued to stare him down.

“I don’t know what you mean-”

He had enough at that point, his body slipping up against yours, his right knee planted between your thighs so it was resting on the wooden seat of your chair. You lost the contest and closed your eyes the moment his knee pressed against your pathetically wet center. 

His hand grabbed your throat when your eyes fluttered shut and he leaned against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. “You know exactly what I mean. And so do I. I know I’ve been busy, and I know you’re the kind of girl who needs attention round the clock. Or else she goes… crazy.”

He was exactly right, he knew you so well. You let out a breath and he left a kiss on the side of your jaw, right under your ear. “I haven’t been giving you enough attention, have I?”

“No, you haven’t.” Your voice was hoarse under the grasp of his hand, but it was understandable. 

Joker hummed and kissed right under your jaw. “I should apologize for that, but I think,” Another kiss, lower on your neck now. “I should show you who you belong to, first.”

God, yes. Finally. Your plan worked perfectly. You picked your feet up out of your sandals and raised them over his hips, pulling him higher against you. 

You wanted nothing more than for him to show you who you belonged to, and he was happy to oblige. 

He planted more kisses on your neck before dipping below the neck of your shirt, moving the fabric with his face so he could kiss the freshly exposed skin. 

Suddenly, by the grasp on your neck, he pulled you out of the chair and switched positions with you. You were too stunned to comprehend what happened, but when you came to your senses your eyes focused on his cock. He was sitting in the chair you were in only a few seconds ago, his right hand stroking his cock, slow and sweet. Your mouth watered.

You couldn’t hold back. You leaned up on your knees and took him into your mouth, almost gasping at the absolute size of him. No matter how many times you’d fuck him or suck him off, his girth continued to surprise you. You missed these intimate moments so much.

He had missed it too, obviously, because he tossed his head back and groaned. His hands found their way to your hair and helped you bob your head on his length. “Fuck.” Something about the way he cursed sent you into a spiral. Hearing him curse was nothing new to you, but when you first met Arthur he had rarely cursed in front of you. When he became Joker it was like an entirely new dictionary opened to him. 

You slipped your hand between your thighs, trying to be discreet. Apparently, it wasn’t too discreet, because he noticed almost immediately.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” The low rumble of his feral voice startled you and you looked up at him, swirling your tongue around his head in an attempt to distract him from his earlier discovery. He moaned at the feeling, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. You hoped your distraction would work but once he gained his bearings he looked back down to you. “No, not yet. Put your hands on my knees.”

You rolled your eyes but did as he said. He noticed that as well and his grip tightened in your hair. “Something wrong?” He growled, ignoring your muffled yelp. 

You slipped your mouth off of his cock with a lewd pop, shaking your head. “No, nothing’s wrong.” Maybe the sass was evident in your voice because he narrowed his eyes. He waited a beat, staring you down, before he finally broke and stood up. 

“Over the table.” It wasn’t a request or a demand, because as he spoke he moved your body for you, guiding you to his desk. Your panties were tugged down to your knees and then he was hunched over your body, his head right beside yours. 

“Oh, fuck.” You panted, his harsh and quick movements sending a new set of pleasurable waves through you. Something about him being rough with you… you couldn’t explain it. You closed your eyes when his cock rubbed against your folds, teasingly slow. A moan rumbled through your throat and you arched your back, hoping if he felt you moving against his cock he would finally fuck you and give you what you’d been craving all week. “Come on, fuck me. I need it. And I know you do too.”

Joker chuckled, low and gritty, before finally pushing himself into you. You both moaned at the same time, he tossed his head back, his hair falling back from his face. If you had seen his face at that moment you would have came. He looked so fucking beautiful, eyes closed in bliss, lips slightly parted. 

It wasn’t slow. As soon as he pushed his entire length into you, he began fucking you with reckless abandon. Slamming his hips into yours, if it wasn’t for the desk being as heavy as it was, it would have slid across the floor. 

“God, just like that.” You hissed through clenched teeth, your hands gripping the sides of the desk to stay upright. “Just like that.” He was fucking you exactly how you needed it. Hard and fast, without a pinch of mercy. 

His right hand slid up your back and he grabbed a handful of your hair, grabbing a generous fistful before he yanked. You gasped as your head was snapped upwards, and at the same time, he fucked you harder. You couldn’t breathe. Every thrust knocked another breath from your lungs, 

“Daddy’s gonna fill you up.” He leaned back down so he was level with your body, his teeth grazing the nape of your neck. You moaned in response and he pulled your hair, moving your neck to the side so he could get a better angle. He sank his teeth into the skin on the side of your neck, biting down so hard you could feel your muscles being pinched. You wanted to move away, the pain being almost too much, but his jaw was set and there was no moving away from him. Especially when he was about to come.

He didn’t say anything else as his hips snapped forward, his thrusts which were once in a steady rhythm quickly becoming the complete opposite. 

Joker moaned into your skin, his teeth still set around your neck. He moaned as he came inside you, his hands moving from your hair to your hips. He held you down firmly on the desk as he fucked his last bit of cum into you.

Your pussy clenched around him and you moved your hand between your legs to force your own orgasm, your fingers moving expertly against your clit. You finally came, just as he was pulling out, singing out a symphony of moans and cries. 

He released your neck and stood back, almost stumbling as he all but fell into your chair. You turned just in time to see him running a hand through his sweaty hair, right before he put his softening cock back into his pants. He gave you a lazy smirk, his eyes flickering from yours to your panties, which were still around your ankles. While he was looking at them, a slow trickle of his cum leaked down the inside of your thigh, and suddenly his soft cock wasn’t so soft anymore. He looked back up at your face, grinning when he saw how red and sweaty you were.

“How was that?” He asked, loosening the neck of his shirt.

“Perfect.” You hummed and kicked off your panties before walking over to him, sliding into his lap. You looked down at his face, noticing how the greasepaint had worn off near his forehead from his sweat. You were going to say something about him needing a touch-up, but when you moved your hips to get more comfortable on him, you felt how hard he had gotten. “Already?” You teased, locking eyes with him. You caught his mischievous glint and you laughed, tilting your head back as you did so.  

You rose from his lap and slipped your sandals on, making sure you maintained eye contact the whole time. When you were done you stood up, walking past him, and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Well, you’ll just have to catch me, first.”

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader: Together Apart Ch.5

Warnings/Mentions: History of abuse, neglect, strong language, mentions of character death, alcohol and drug abuse, ptsd, shared trauma, reader is cold, angst, fluff, eventual smut, slowburn, angst

Summary: You and Daryl grow closer due to feeling out of place in Alexandria. Just when you think you have the old Daryl back, he leaves.

Notes: I think the chapter after this one will be the last chapter, and finally have some cheesy old fashion love making :D Sorry Daryl vanishes at the end tho ):

It never seemed to end for him. In front of everyone else he was silent, emotionless, an empty body on autopilot. But when you'd walk off into the trees to search for water, it always hit him, no matter how many times he'd thought he'd cried out all out and was done with it. 

He clung to you after her death like never before, constantly walking in your shadow and wordlessly begging for some sort of comfort, reassurance, anything. You did the best you could, which ended up being more than either of you expected. You seamlessly morphed into the familiar elder sister role, mirroring the ways you would comfort your bruised baby brother. 

He put a cigarette out on his hand the one time he went off by himself, and not following him was something you came to regret. 

“Daryl,” the whisper of your voice had him cringing, the sound too empathetic and full of concern, he had to fight to keep himself from cracking when your comfort washed over him. 

“I know… I'm not good with words, or shit like this.” You sighed, maintaining a quiet tone, low enough for the sound of rain and the crackle of fire to cover. 

Daryl remained silent as you spoke. He picked at the skin around his fingers, looking down at his hands in his lap, and the sight of your smaller hand lightly touching his wrist makes him jerk. 

“I can't take away your pain, God knows I'd kill every goddamn piece of shit alive to make you feel better.” Your voice turned shaky, and the urge to cry was becoming overwhelming for the both of you. “But... I can promise you, you'll never have to worry about losing me. I just want you to know, I'm that one thing you don't need to worry about. I always will be.” 

Daryl slowly inhaled through his stuffy nose and nodded, the noise dry and shaky, his eyes burning and unblinking from their gaze on your hand. 

“I know.” He finally spoke and nodded again, as if that would magically set it in stone. “Me too.”

Slipping back into your place in the group dynamic was unpleasant after being alone with Gabriel for that long. It wasn't just one person you had to make an effort for anymore, and deep down you despised it. It was almost comparable to going back to school after summer break. You had to play by the rules again, fit into their perfect perception or risk repercussions. 

The discovery of Eugenes lies was all but a surprise to you. You didn't have some wild sense of intuition, you were just a pessimistic person. Although you kept your opinions to yourself, you didn't predict the extent of how deep his lies had been. The cure was a given, obviously, but the fact he lied about being a scientist as well? Lied about the safe place in Washington too? It took everything you had in you not to cave his face in when you saw the look of disappointment on Daryl's face. That's another reason why you hated being in a group. People didn't deserve to be able to let you down, and sure as hell not the one person you gave a shit about. 

People love to parrot that same ‘it has to get worse before it can get better’ bullshit you'd been told by concerned and empathetic authority figures all throughout your childhood. Safe to say it had lost its meaning to you, even when Daryl tried to lift your spirits. 

Well, it sure got better for everyone else. 

You weren't alone in your suspicions about Aaron. For once Rick and you agreed on something, it was a bad idea to go to Alexandria. But the group convinced him to take a chance, that the rewards greatly outweigh the risks, and you watched with a disapproving glare as Aaron led you all past the gates. 

“I'm just going to ask you a few simple questions, get to know you. You don't mind if I record this, do you?” 

You had a feeling your answer wouldn't make any difference, no matter what you said. You shook your head as you watched Deanna turn her video camera on, the big black lens feeling like an intimidating pit waiting to swallow you up if you gave an answer she didn't like. She rounded the couch and sat down, a tight and professional smile on her lips. 

“Let's start with your name.”

You told her your name, trying to behave despite your stomach growling and the sudden awareness that you smelled and looked awful. 

“Where are you from,” She repeated your name. 

“Georgia. Up North.” 

“Did you work?”

“No.”

“What were you before the outbreak?” When you didn't answer, she elaborated. “Were you a student in school, staying at home, traveling…?”

“After high school I stayed home for a couple years. Took care of my mom.” 

“I understand you're close with Daryl, is that right?” 

You must've visibly reacted to that question, because even after you answered, she pressed for more information.

“Did you grow up together?”

“Kind of, we weren't really friends or anything. He lived nearby and I'd see him around.”

Deanna nodded as if she was your therapist listening to some deep-seated trauma. 

“Did you ask anyone else these questions?” You scratched the back of your arm, beginning to feel uncomfortable. 

“I ask everyone all kinds of questions. I want to get to know you all, it's not an interrogation. You don't need to answer any that you don't want to.”

She finally changed the subject to your relationship with Rick's group. Not that you were eager to talk about it, but at least she wasn't grilling you on Daryl anymore. 

“I've been here since before Rick came and took over. Back in Atlanta. Daryl and his brother Merle came to get me when it happened. I thought maybe they were having some bad trip or somethin'. Ran into my house yelling about dead folks coming back to life and eating people. If it wasn't for them, I'd probably be dead too, but, I think they mainly came to get me because they knew my mom had a stash of cigarettes and drugs.” You were chuckling as you spoke, not realizing you had given up so much information without her even asking. You instantly shut up, the amused smile leaving your face. 

“How do you get along with other members of your group?”

You cringed at the phrasing. They weren't your group, they were Daryl's people, you were just a temporary guest without a set time to leave. 

“Fine. Haven't heard any complaints. Have you?”

“No. But I have heard you don't work well with others.” 

You shrugged. 

“Do you want to be here?” The way she would use your name at the end of every few sentences was starting to get under your skin. 

“I'm kinda stuck with wherever Daryl wants to be.” 

Deanna ended the interview after a handful of other unimportant questions and you were allowed to leave, led to your new house by one of her son's. 

You took the longest and hottest shower of your life, only getting out when Abraham started pounding on the door. It brought back that same feeling of anxiety you'd get when your mother would bang on your locked door in a fit of anger. You nearly ran him over when you burst out of the bathroom, making him drop his change of clothes and call out a disgruntled complaint. 

“Who the hell is this?” 

Daryl looked up from his bag to see you looking down at him, a teasing grin on your fresh face. The image of you being all cleaned up had him momentarily stunned. It had been a while since either of you had seen each other clean like that. 

“Daryl? No way, where's your grease?” You toyed with his damp hair before sitting next to him on the floor near the fireplace, where he'd decided to sleep for the night. 

“Nah, I don't know you. Ya don't smell like bloody rabbits.” He retorted, leaning in to dramatically sniff at you. “The hell is that? Shampoo?”

“Uh, it's shampoo, conditioner, body wash, lotion, and toothpaste.” You replied, giving an exaggerated smile to show your clean teeth. 

You shared a few chuckles and jokes as the rest of the group cleaned up and prepared for bed. Even though you couldn't stand the place or the new people in it, the prospect of having your own room with an actual bed had you buzzing with excitement. 

Sleeping next to Daryl wasn't anything out of the ordinary for you. It was an arrangement that happened more nights than not. But sleeping next to Daryl in a safe house, wrapped in clean clothes, soft blankets, and not even the slightest whiff of the outdoors? It was overwhelming. 

You turned on your side to face him, watching as he stared up at the ceiling, the dark room filled with the familiar ambiance of gentle snoring and breathing. Daryl always slept after everyone else, and that night was no exception. 

Despite your instincts telling you not to, you wiggled on the blanket to move closer to him, nuzzling your face in his nearly dry hair, closing your eyes as you inhaled his clean scent. 

He stiffened at first, an automatic reaction which soon faded and he relaxed, tilting his head until his cheek rested against your forehead. He could barely feel the warm tickle of your breath under his jaw, the feeling soliciting a subliminal relaxation. His eyes closed then, and he listened to the barely audible whistle of your nose. He listened as the whistle got softer, slower, and nearly disappeared altogether as you fell asleep. 

Daryl made sure to untangle himself from you the next morning, before anyone else had the chance to wake up and witness your private bond. No one deserved to see that part of him or you, it was intended for the two of you alone, something deeper and more personal than anyone would understand. 

Adjusting to being around people was a challenge that went all the way back to school. Even in Atlanta you struggled with it, going from being a hermit with your sick mother to an adult in a large group of people, it felt like your first day of school all over again. 

That was all nothing compared to being in Alexandria. Not only were you surrounded by people that annoyed you, but another larger group of people you knew absolutely nothing about. 

They bestowed heavy responsibilities on you as well. It wasn't just scraping by washing clothes and hunting, it was work. Hard work. Wall building, gardening, work inside Alexandria, work outside their walls, near constant supply runs, and cooking. 

Parties. Pasta for dinner. A seemingly limitless flow of sparkling amber champagne. Some kid was walking their fucking pet dog on the sidewalk. 

It felt insulting. Their first impression on you firmly implemented your personal views towards them. Spoiled, weak, wearing faces of false persona, wives chittering like hens with warm knowing smirks. Husbands and men who always smiled like the sun, going out of their way to do things they considered nice for you, then putting on a somber and humble face if anyone had praised their hard work, dedication, and sacrifices. Sacrifices that basically ensued going to the grocery store. 

You hated it. You hated them, you hated their kids, you hated their houses that looked like mansions to you, and you hated the way Rick's group treated it like they'd walked through the bright pearly gates and not the glorified pretentious prison that it was. 

To your relief Daryl didn't quite like it either. 

“They invited us to what?” You didn't believe him when he said it to you as he stared around your new room. 

“Said it was a welcoming party.” He grunted, fingers picking at the edges of a tacky poster of a puppy on the wall. 

“A party? What do you mean a party?” 

“Dunno.” He sighed, throwing his hands up in muted exasperation. “S’jus what she said.” She being Deanna, the same woman who took away your guns, which yours had grown to be quite the impressive collection. But you being your hardened and sneaky self, you'd managed to smuggle two of your handguns into your room. Daryl got to keep his crossbow, of course, and you your own recurve bow, it was the bare minimum aside from your knives, which the others were allowed to keep as well. Sadly, you'd end up breaking that bow a few days later by slinging it at Pete's head.

“And everyone's going?” You pressed on from your seat on the bedroom dresser. 

“Dunno. Goddamn, told you what she told me, you know s’much as I do.” 

You went to the party. Of fucking course you would, they had full on meals with all the food groups, they had alcohol, they had little appetizers and finger foods you'd only ever seen on tv and in magazines, you'd be an idiot not to. The only con was the house was stuffed with people. You could barely make it two steps without bumping into a new face. 

You didn't stay long at all, leaving the second your stomach felt full, and you had a decent buzz going on. You snuck out the back door and snagged the half empty bottle of champagne on your way out. 

“Ya went?” Daryl was surprised to see you walking down the sidewalk in new clothes. The black button up hung a little loose on you, the sleeves bunched up around your elbows, the hem falling all the way past your ass. 

“I may not like those people, but they make some damn good casserole.” You snickered, popping out the metal reusable cork and taking a deep drink. 

Daryl grabbed the bottle from your outstretched hand and downed nearly the whole damn thing in three gulps. 

“Yeah yeah. Go on, help yourself.” 

He gave a weak grin at your playful scoff before handing the bottle back to you. 

“You remember what I said back in Atlanta.”

You looked to your side at Daryl as the two of you walked down the dimly lit path back to your new residence. “Gotta be more specific.” 

“Bout takin’ their shit an’ hauling ass outta there.” 

“Yeah. One of my biggest regrets is talking you out of it.” You sighed, your tone no longer playful and lighthearted. “We could be all the way across the country by now. Would still have Merle bitching out ears off and ranting about some racist conspiracy theory.” 

Daryl suddenly chuckled. “You ‘member that time he was tryin’ to come up with slurs for walkers?” His amused grin spread further when you erupted into laughter at the memory. “What was it he called ‘em? Rotters? Pus-suckers?”

“Yeah, those were some of the tamer ones.” At the time you'd been annoyed by Merle's constant need to remind you that the three of you were better and more superior than anything and anyone around you, but all this time without him and his humorous outlook on life, you missed it. You even missed when he'd belittle you, at the end of the day he still was sexist, despite the obvious care he held for you. 

“Why'd you ask though?” 

“Dunno.”

“Daryl.”

“Everyone's safe now, ain't gotta worry about ‘em anymore.” 

You kept quiet as he fought for the words to convey his thoughts. It was obvious he felt like the odd man out again, it was impossible not to, in a place as nice as Alexandria. The rest of the group had effortlessly slipped into their places in the new environment, if you were an onlooker, it would look as if time had frozen in place for the small neighborhood and its citizens. 

But Daryl, and you, it wasn't easy like that. You never had a normal life like this, so you had no default state to regress to. Daryl had only changed a little since the start, and you hadn't changed much at all. Your skin felt like it was burning with electricity at the insinuation in his words. 

“I'll go wherever you go, you know that.” You nodded firmly. “Just say the word.”

He ended up going to Carol with his vague plan, and then Rick. You don't know what they said to him, but the next morning he told you he wanted to give it a few days before he made his decision.

You should've just made the decision for him. You should have grabbed your stuff, packed your bags, and stole one of their cars and left. Because a few days turned into a hell of a lot longer. 

It wasn't all bad, the two of you grew even closer due to his feelings of being an outcast once again surfacing. It was the same for you, which caused you to cling onto him tighter than before. You slept on the same ratty mattress in your room, sometimes cuddling, but most of the time on separate ends.

You watched more people die around you, which was something you'd become bitterly accustomed to. Aiden, one of Deanna’s sons, and Noah, who you'd never spoken to before. Rick made some trouble for himself getting wrapped up in the wife of the town surgeon, and all hell broke loose after that. Pete lost his shit and accidentally killed Deanna's husband, and Rick killed Pete. As if there hadn't been enough blood shed, a hoard of walkers became an issue just as things started to calm down. 

You didn't like the role that'd been assigned to you. You were being seen and tasked as a protector, sent out by Rick with Abraham and a handful of others to build strategic walls for his master plan of relocating the hoard. 

Another thing you didn't like was the way people's views towards you changed. People who once never even spared you a second thought were speaking to you, making an effort to get to know you, and it was just as unsettling as that time Rick invited you over for dinner. 

“Too pretty to be so sad all the time.” Abraham had said once as you dug a hole for the wooden pillar. 

“I'm not sad.” You muttered, stepping back as three men lifted the wood into the hole. You poured in the instant concrete and took your gloves off to get a drink of water.

“So you just always have that sour look on your face then, huh?” 

“Only when I'm around people I don't know.” Or like, you thought to yourself. 

“I've known you for how long now? Course you know me. And Sasha, and Rosita, and-”

“You're people I'm stuck with. Doesn't mean I know you.” 

“Tsh.” He snorted, folding his massive arms across his equally massive chest. “So you're just a bitch then?” 

“Yeah.” 

One would think that conversation would've been enough to get the point across. No, sadly, it only made things worse. Rick ended up giving you jobs with more people, and you quickly caught onto the convenient way Daryl was almost never in those assigned groups. 

Rick was in charge, that was undebatable, but he wasn't in charge of your free will. You did your work as he asked, most of the time faster than expected, and spent every second of your free time with Daryl, even if it meant pulling four different jobs a day. 

It worked like that for a while, and eventually you did begin to change. Not you exactly, moreso your attitude had changed. You became less closed off, no longer baring teeth and claws as a constant warning. You actually enjoyed spending time with Abraham, as he was one of the only people that called you out for being shitty, he wasn't scared of your mean mug or the harsh bite of your words. It wasn't just Abraham you started to like. Maggie, Carol, Rosita, Michonne, and sometimes Tara, the small group shifted from strangers to acquaintances, some would call you their friend. They'd eventually worn down your hard exterior and you experimented a little with conversation and generosity. Carol was the exception, it was you who had to pursue her. Trying to become genuine friends with her was hard, it made you realize how hard everyone else had been trying with you. 

You even started decorating your room a bit. Nothing fancy, just a few homemade shelves and displays for your numerous weapons. You made a special one above your futon, the only object it held was the small gold tinted shell of a used bullet. 

All good things must come to an end. 

You sat alone in your shared room for the third night in a row, silent on your lumpy mattress, your eyes burning in effort to hold back tears. 

He hadn't even told you he was leaving. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx @jinx-nanami

can i request some arthur stalking reader content? an obsession gone way too far? sex at a halloween party but she doesnt know its him:?

Of course you can! Getting on it (:

Hi, I absolutely love your stories! And I love to think about Arthur Fleck being a virgin❤May I request a story about the first time having sex with Arthur, being his first time, but the reader's very experienced. And like he asking if she has done this before, she says yes and asks the same to him, to what he says no, she kinda guides him at first because of his nervousness, but then he looses control & it turns cute , hot but goofy . Sorry i talk a lot😂i have this idea in ny head , help!

Of course you can darling, I adore this kind of content and I'll get on it soon ❤