#really though he needs to run it by Sophia

[fazcinatingblog]

Woolworths guy complained today that he was promised a pay rise and he didn't get it yet Tony gets one because Tony is nice and not annoying and actually downloads the financials from BGL so it's easier for me to send it out to the client and

[janiehellion]

Healing Touch

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: When Daryl Dixon is injured and stuck in bed, he’s not exactly thrilled about the idea of being pampered by the group. But you? You’re more than ready to take care of him—and show him just what it means to be a good boy. Think Daryl Dixon’s all rough and tough? Think again...

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: DARYL DIXON X READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: SMUT / HANDJOB / TEASING / EDGING / ORGASM DENIAL

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 4.033

ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ: S2E05—ᴄʜᴜᴘᴀᴄᴀʙʀᴀ & S2E06—ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛꜱ

MASTERLIST

You wiped the sweat from your forehead, the Georgia sun burning down on you as you walked over to Maggie and Glenn outside of the house on Hershel's farm.

Every so often, you'd look towards the cars where a few others in the group were working, trying to make the most of the now limited supplies you all had left at the moment.

"I got a lot of corn here," Maggie said, holding up a can. "Maybe we can make some soup tonight. What do you think?"

Glenn laughed, "Soup sounds fine, I think. As long as we don’t have to eat beans again. I think I’m starting to sprout beans myself."

"Hey Maggie," you shouted over to her. "How’s everything going so far? You two need any help?"

Maggie gave you a small, but rather distracted, smile. "It’s been a quiet run, so we’re okay. We just came back a few minutes ago with some new supplies."

You nodded. "That's good. Means we won't starve anytime soon. Hey, listen, I heard Daryl’s still inside the house. Do you know how he is feeling? I really hope he is feeling better. Everything that has happened, I just... I don't know. I still can't wrap my head around it."

"Well, dad took care of him, just like he did with Carl, so I wouldn't worry too much about his condition. And if it would've worsened, dad would've told Rick already, that's for sure. But what has happened to him out there, and then the bullet? I don't know him well enough, but I think that he’s too stubborn to admit he even needed help in the first place. And that ear necklace? I'm sorry, but that was beyond creepy."

You remembered… Daryl has been out there, trying to find Sophia again. Of course, it all had to go sideways. You didn't know the details exactly, but you remembered how he had dragged himself back to the farm, looking like he’d been through hell and back. Covered in dirt and blood, and barely conscious.

Then, just when things couldn’t get any worse, Andrea took a shot at him from the roof of the RV. She’d been told to hold off by Rick, Shane, and Dale, but she fired anyway, hitting Daryl in the head, with the bullet grazing his temple.

"I’ll check on him," you now said, putting the supplies aside again. "You're right, he's too stubborn to admit it, but he needs someone to make sure he’s not pushing himself too hard. And if he could, he'd already be out there again."

As you walked towards the farmhouse, you passed by Rick, who was busy organizing and looking through different maps. He looked up at you, giving you a nod. "Hey," he said, his voice sounding rather exhausted. "Are you going to check on Daryl? Or are you going to help Beth and Lori in the kitchen?"

You nodded. "Yeah. I’m going to make sure he’s okay. Daryl's been through hell while trying to find Sophia."

"Good idea. He’s definitely been through a lot, that's true. I mean, we all have. But just… be careful with him. You know how Daryl is."

You laughed, shaking your head. "I know, Rick. That’s why I’m going to make sure he stays put and tied to the bed. Don't worry."

As you walked into the farmhouse, you could hear a voice coming from the kitchen, where Lori was preparing a meal with Beth together for Daryl and the rest of the group.

"Hello," Lori said and looked at you. "Are you going to see Daryl, or do you want to help us? Rick has been annoying me with me apparently needing help, even though Beth is helping me already."

You nodded, giving her a smile back. "Don't worry, Lori. I want to make sure Daryl's alright, you know, after everything that has happened lately."

She gave you a quick and thankful thumbs up before you continued heading to the room in which Daryl was in, but paused for a moment in front of the door, taking a deep breath. The thought of Daryl lying there, probably still hurt and so vulnerable, made your heart ache. He’d always been so strong, but seeing him in such a state was hard to imagine. And just as you were about to open the door, you heard a voice coming from the inside of the room.

You stopped, listening for a moment before pushing open the door to find Hershel standing by Daryl’s bedside.

"Evening, Hershel," you said as you entered the room, trying to keep your tone neutral despite the knot of nervousness in your stomach.

Hershel looked up, smiling at the sight of you. "Hey there, good to see you. I could use an extra pair of hands."

You moved closer to the bed, where Daryl lay, and Hershel continued, "Daryl’s been in and out of consciousness yesterday most of the time, but I’m hopeful he’ll recover fast if he gets the rest he needs. And if you could help changing the rest of the bandages right now, that would be great."

You nodded, taking a closer look at Daryl. "Sure, I’ll do whatever I can to help. I know he can be stubborn, but he needs to take it easy eventually."

"That’s the spirit. I’ve done what I can for now. He’ll need the rest."

You were still looking at Daryl as Hershel took a few steps back, who now moved slightly at the sound of your voice. His eyes opened just a little bit, and he looked at you with confusion.

"Hey, tough guy," you said. "How are you holding up so far?"

"Just peachy, as always," he answered rather annoyed.

You couldn’t help but smile at his answer. He certainly sounded like the Daryl Dixon that you all knew so far. "Well, I’m here now, so you’d better let me take care of you."

Hershel gave you another nod before finally walking out of the room. "Good, I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, like more bandages, don’t hesitate to ask. We still got enough medical supplies left if needed."

"Thanks, Hershel," you replied, watching as he left the room.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the task ahead.

"What’re ya even doin’ here?" Daryl suddenly mumbled. "'M fine. Don’t need no babysittin’ bullshit. Ain't needin' ya 'round here either."

You gave him a smile, trying to hide how annoyed you already were with his usual behavior. "You’re obviously not fine, Daryl. You’ve been through a lot, and you know it. I’m here to make sure you don’t do anything stupid, like trying to get up and do something you shouldn’t."

He grumbled in frustration, trying to turn away from you. "Yeah… whatever."

You raised an eyebrow, shaking your head. "Yeah... Too bad, huh? Because right now, that means letting me help you."

"Ain’t nothin’ you can do that Hershel didn’t already do," he mumbled again.

You set down the small medical kit Hershel had brought with him and pulled a chair closer to the bed. "Hershel did his part, sure, but it’s not just about the wounds. You need to rest and relax, and that’s where I come in. Also, taking off the old bandages and putting on new ones isn't that hard, but I doubt that you can do it yourself. And Hershel just left the room, so it's up to me now to change the rest of them. I don't care if you complain about it or not."

You then began to carefully take off the bandages from his side, where the crossbow bolt had pierced itself through. Daryl winced a little, but he didn’t complain so far, his pride keeping him quiet even though you could see how uncomfortable it was for him.

"You know, for someone who’s always acting so tough, you’re a real damn mess right now," you said, trying to break the ice with a bit of humor. "How’d you end up like that anyway? What even happened out there?"

Daryl smirked a bit to himself. "Ya think I’m gonna tell ya a story now? Hell, jus' get it over with."

You shook your head and laughed quietly, focusing on cleaning the wound first. "Hey, I'm not the one that looks like the wrong side of the bed became sentient and beat the ever-loving shit out of you. So you’re going to have to deal with me being the one to help you. It’s either that or I get someone else who’s less careful."

"Less careful?" Daryl asked, and he winced again as you applied antiseptic to the wound. "Sounds to me like yer enjoyin’ this."

You stopped for a moment and looked at him with a teasing smile. "You know what? Maybe I really am enjoying this. Or maybe I just want to make sure you’re not going to cause us any more trouble, even though we all appreciate what you did. Especially Carol."

"Ya think I need ya to look after me? I can handle myself jus' fine," he grumbled and closed his eyes, not wanting to look at you anymore.

You soon finished cleaning the wound and then continued with the fresh bandages. "Oh, I’m sure you can, Dixon. But that’s not even the point. The point is, you’re not in any shape to be running around and playing redneck cowboy."

Daryl moved slightly again, trying to get more comfortable. "Ain't in need to be told twice. Thank ya very much."

You stopped wrapping the bandage around him, waiting for him to get into a more comfortable position. "Stop it with the damn sarcasm, Daryl. For someone who’s always trying to play it cool, you’re really not doing a great job of hiding how much this is bothering you. You do realize that looking weak and needing help are two different things, right? You're far from being weak, and you've done much more for this group than you can probably imagine, even if you're doubting yourself and telling yourself that it's all bullshit in the end." You told him and then continued, putting on the final bandage. "But it's not. And right now, you need to let yourself be looked after, and you need to give us the chance to care about you. Even if it's only for once."

There was a moment of silence, and for a second he looked at you only to look away again, clearly struggling with giving you an honest answer about what he thinks.

You took a deep breath. "Alright, I’m done with the bandages. How about a quick check of your other injuries?"

Daryl nodded quickly, but you could see he was starting to relax a bit. "Yeah, fine. Jus'… make it quick, will ya? Ain't got no time for this bullshit."

You smiled and began checking his other wounds. "So, what’s your actual excuse for not telling us what has happened?"

"Ain't worth tellin’. Jus' 'nother day of me bein’ stupid," he grumbled back as an answer.

Soon enough, you finished checking his other wounds and stood up, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "Well, now that I’ve made sure you’re all patched up, try to get some rest. We’re all counting on you to be back on your feet soon; don't forget that."

He snorted. "Yeah, sure. I’ll try to stay outta trouble while bein' tied to this damn bed."

You smiled and began to pack up the antiseptic and unused bandages, putting them back into the small medical kit. "That’s all I ask for. Get some sleep, Daryl. You know you need it. Something to eat will be ready soon."

As you put away the last of the bandages, you noticed how tense Daryl seemed to be. So you decided to take an extra moment to help him relax, thinking how a little extra care couldn’t hurt.

Your fingers soon massaged his side as you sat down once more, careful not to touch the wound. It was meant to ease the tense muscles around it a bit, but as your hands moved over his skin, you felt that he seemed to react differently when he gasped slightly.

"Ya really don’t have to," he started, but he stopped talking as you continued, your touch slow and feeling soothing.

You looked up, now looking into his eyes. "Why not? You’re all tense. And it’s not just about the injuries; your whole body’s been through a lot. A little extra care might help. There's nothing wrong with it."

He grunted, trying to remain tough, but his breathing grew heavier, betraying his growing discomfort, and you noticed how his body responded to your touch—a reaction he was clearly trying to hide.

His cock began to harden under the sheets. The outline of it was becoming more pronounced, and you could see the rise of the sheets with each breath he took.

You tried to ignore the current awkwardness of the situation, but it was impossible not to notice, and even more impossible not to look at it. Your fingers stopped, and you hesitated momentarily before continuing to massage his side, with Daryl’s eyes squeezed shut and another groan escaping his lips.

"Ugh... Daryl?" You asked quietly, your voice full of curiosity as you realized what was happening. "Are you… okay?"

He opened his eyes and turned his head away from you. "Yeah, jus', jus' let it be. Shit, jus' stop!"

But you couldn’t ignore the evident hardening beneath the sheets anymore. As you moved slightly in your seat to get a little bit closer to him, your hand accidentally brushed against his cock, and Daryl’s reaction was immediate—he sucked in a breath, his body tensing even more.

"Ain’t needin’ ya to… to be all handsy now, goddamn it!" Daryl's voice was trembling, his body shaking a bit, and his muscles straining, even as you didn't continue to massage him. But the sudden power you had over him was intoxicating, and you decided to take your chance and act on it.

You reached down and carefully pulled back the sheets covering his lower body. Daryl’s breathing hitched as you exposed him, and his cock was already hard, pushing against his pants. You could see it clearly now, the visible outline of it.

You smirked at him as you pulled the waistband of his pants down, just enough to pull his cock out and free it from his underwear.

As you pulled it out, Daryl's eyes widened as he watched you handle him. There was no need for words; the look on his face said it all. He felt vulnerable.

You gave him a smile, your hand now wrapped around his throbbing cock. "You look like you're about to lose it, Dixon."

He glared back at you, but there was no real anger in his eyes. "Ain’t fair, ya know…"

You leaned in close to him, your lips touching his ear. "Well, who said life was fair?" Your hand started to move, giving his cock a slow, torturous stroke that had him groaning. "But maybe… if you ask nicely…"

"God… Please," he groaned again, but it was clear he wasn’t used to begging, yet the desperation in his voice was there beyond doubt.

"Good boy," you murmured, and you could see how his eyes slowly closed as he gave in to your touch and words.

You soon picked up the pace, your hand moving faster, his hips bucking into your hand. "Shit, jus' like that," he moaned, his eyes squeezing shut even more tightly.

Fuck… How he wanted it. Your hand working his cock, making him forget about everything that has happened…

You could tell he was close already. His cock twitched in your hand, and the quiet sounds he was making were turning more desperate. "Please," he gasped again. "I… I can’t..."

"Oh? Already, huh?" You teased him, your thumb brushing over the tip of his cock, smearing the pre-cum over it that had gathered there.

You smirked, enjoying the power you had over him. "Do you like this?" You teased him further.

"Yeah, jus' like that…" He panted, his body trembling. "Please... I need ya to touch me more. Can't fuckin' take it..."

"Touch you where, Daryl? Use your words. Be a good boy and tell me exactly what you want."

"My damn dick... please, jus' touch it." You immediately switched your pace back to pump him slowly again, and each stroke of your hand made him shiver, his moans growing a little louder with every touch.

His hips bucked involuntarily, but you kept your rhythm controlled, never speeding up, not letting him get the orgasm he wanted so desperately.

"I thought you were a tough guy. But look at you—so damn needy already. Come on, Daryl," you mumbled. "You’re not done yet. Not until I say so."

He whimpered, trying to thrust into your hand, but you stopped him, keeping him on edge.

"Fuck, please…" He groaned in frustration. "Don’t stop… jus' fuckin' finish me off already!"

You laughed, your grip tightening just enough to torture him a little more. "And why would I do that? You need to learn so much more about patience."

With each stroke, you used different pressure and speed, sometimes going slower just when he thought he was about to finally cum. The feeling was almost unbearable for Daryl, and you could see it in the way his muscles tensed and relaxed again and again, his breathing only coming out in gasps.

"How does it feel, Daryl? Being held on the edge like this?" You asked, looking over at the door to listen if somebody was coming closer.

"Shit, feels so damn good…" He gasped, his voice strained. "I jus' need… I need to… Fuck!"

You smiled, leaning closer to him once more when you were sure that you'd be left alone. "Not yet, tough guy. I want to see just how much you can take."

You continued your teasing, your strokes slow and torturous. "You can take it. I know you can. You want it, don’t you? You want to make me finish you so badly, but you’re going to have to earn it," you whispered.

Daryl could only nod. "Please… Hell, I can't take much more!" 

He couldn't take it anymore. The teasing—it was all too much. He wanted to cum. And he needed you to make him cum. Hell, he loved it. Your hand pumping his cock, teasing him, making him groan with need. The way you toyed with him, bringing him so close only to pull back? Shit, he was losing it… And the way your fingers wrapped around his cock, jerking it just right… It was driving him insane.

You simply grinned, feeling excited because of the power you held over him. "But that's good. Because I want you to remember this. Remember how much you wanted it and how much I made you wait."

His eyes were still squeezed shut, his fists clenched at his sides as he fought against the urge to give in.

With that, you continued to edge him, every touch, every stroke keeping him on the brink, pushing him to the limit of his own control.

And the feeling of sliding your hand back and forth along his thick shaft, the way he groaned and moaned quietly, trying to keep himself quiet just for you—it was everything you wanted...

"Fuck, please," he moaned again, his voice now breaking slightly.

His cock was pulsing in your hand and still leaking pre-cum, and you knew this was the moment he might not be able to hold back any longer. And just when he was about to finally stumble over the edge, you stopped pumping him completely, pulling your hand away from his throbbing cock.

Daryl’s eyes flew open in shock, anger, and need. "What the fuck?" He growled, his voice hoarse. "Why’d ya stop?"

You leaned in, whispering into his ear. "Because I wanted to see you beg for it, Daryl. And you’re not quite there yet."

He glared at you in need, his cheeks red, and sweat started to form on his body. "Ya can’t jus' leave me like this! Please!"

"Oh, but I can," you answered with a smirk. "And I will. Unless you really beg for it."

Daryl closed his mouth, and you could see the muscles in his jaw twitching around as he gritted his teeth, his pride and ego fighting with his desperate need. Finally, he let out a frustrated groan, his head falling back against the pillow.

"Please, please, let me cum," he whispered and finally started to beg and whimper a little more. "Please! I can't take it anymore. Please…"

God... How much he needed you. Desperately. Your hands, your touch, everything about the way you teased and pumped him, the way you handled him… It was like you knew exactly what he wanted and what he needed, and you were giving it to him for free, if only he would beg for it...

You smiled, satisfied with his response. "That’s better. Now, let’s see how much more you can take."

You went back to your teasing, your hand moving slowly over his cock, feeling him twitch and pulse again with every touch. His moans grew a little louder, even more desperate, as you brought him to the edge again and again, only to stop just before he could finally cum.

By the time you finally decided to give him what he needed, Daryl was nothing more than a trembling and pleading mess, his hips bucking toward you again and again, his eyes now looking desperatly at you.

"Fuck, you’re such a good boy, Daryl," you whispered quietly. "Look at you, trying to keep quiet for me, trying to hold back so hard. Taking it like you should… Don't stop looking at me."

You sped up, your movements rough and fast, giving him no time to adjust to the now quick pace. His body was shaking, and you could feel he was more than ready to snap.

"Yeah, you want to cum so bad, don’t you?" You teased. "Go on, Daryl. Cum for me. Show me how much you need it. How much you want it."

With a choked groan, Daryl's body tensed. His orgasm hit him hard, his cock pulsing in your grip as he came all over your hand. You kept pumping him through it, milking every last drop out of him.

"Oh, you really are a good boy, aren't you?" You mumbled. "Let it all out. You did so well for me."

He collapsed back against the bed, completely spent and exhausted, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

You reached for a towel next to the small medical kit, wiping your hand and cleaning up carefully, making sure not to leave any evidence of what had just happened behind, before you looked down at Daryl, a wide smile on your face.

"Fuck," he panted. "That was… fuck..."

"Told you I’d take care of you," you answered him, giving him a wink.

He opened his eyes, looking at you quite exhausted. "Yeah, ya did…"

He didn’t protest as you cleaned him up; he just watched and stared at you with those intense blue eyes, still catching his breath with his mouth slightly open.

"There," you said, as you were finishing everything up. "All cleaned up again."

Daryl didn’t say anything for now, just giving you a small and a little ashamed nod as you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his sweaty face.

"Get some rest now, tough guy," you whispered, pulling back and standing up. "You’re gonna need it. Remember: Be a good boy for me."

"Yeah… I... I..." He grunted in response, unable to even finish his thoughts after hearing your words, which were still making his head spin.

You simply smirked, heading towards the door. "Anytime, Daryl. Anytime."

As you walked out of the room, you couldn’t help but feel satisfied as well. Daryl Dixon might be tough as hell, but in that moment, he was completely and totally yours.

TAG-LIST: @itwasntaphasema

[ashtheketchum]

● Bad girl ●

Daryl Dixon X FEM.Reader

Era: Season 2, farm

Summary: Daryl had been badly injured while searching for Sophia and your daddy had ordered Daryl to stay overnight in your house. The archer had his own room with a bed and you took care of his wounds. But one time you had sneaked a peek into his room while he was jerking off and he caught you.

Warnings: +18 CONTENT, FEMALE Reader, spanking, fingering, AGE GAP (Daryl is in his late 30s, Reader is 20 years old), teasing, perv Daryl, masturbate, Reader watches Daryl masturbating

Words: 2.5k

Masterlist!

___________________________________

PoV (Y/N):

The world was ending and, as my daddy would call it, "sick" people were running around. But suddenly a group of survivors came to us and they brought an injured boy to us. Apparently Otis had shot him and another girl was missing. My daddy took care of the injured boy and meanwhile the survivors were allowed to live with us in the front yard. They were not allowed to enter our house except for Rick and Lori, the parents of the injured boy.

I was the middle daughter of the Greenes. Maggie was my older sister and Beth was my younger sister, but I still wasn't allowed to do much with the survivors. It kind of annoyed me, but I could understand my daddy, after all we didn't know these survivors. But one survivor seemed very interesting to me. I think his name was Daryl, but I didn't see him very often. He looked for the missing little girl every day and only came back late at night. Inside, I already gave up hope of getting to know him better, but one day I got my chance.

One day Daryl came back badly wounded and he had also been shot by Andrea. Apparently he had also received one of his arrows in his side. My daddy took care of his wounds and now he had to lie in our guest room. While my daddy took care of his wounds, I brought him food and towels to wash himself with.

But while I was with him, I hardly spoke to him. I came in with a "Hello" and left with a "Ask if you need anything.". But not because I was afraid or because I didn't want to talk to him, I just didn't dare. Even though he sometimes looked at me with a non-grumpy expression on his face, I didn't dare say more. But it didn't seem to bother him, he actually seemed to enjoy the peace and quiet. But I really wanted to talk to him.

But today I wanted to do it differently. I had some food in my hands for Daryl and I was about to knock on his door when I suddenly heard a soft moan coming from his room. At first I thought he was moaning because of the pain, so I quietly opened the door so it was ajar. I quietly looked in to see if Daryl was really moaning because of the pain. But when I saw why he was really moaning, I turned bright red and my cunt started to throb and tingle.

Daryl had his back turned to me, I could see his bare back, which was covered in scars. I had noticed these scars many times, even though he constantly tried to hide them. Sometimes I had to come into his room when he was sleeping to bring him new clothes or leave his food there. My eyes sometimes fell on his broad back and, accordingly, on his scars.

Daryl's right arm moved up and down very quickly, while in his other hand he held a white cloth. He pressed it close to his face, probably to muffle his noises. Although I didn't have much experience with sexual things, I knew enough to know that Daryl was jerking himself off. Although I couldn't see anything, his noises were enough to make my panties wet. I put the food I wanted to bring him on the floor and then my hand wandered between my legs, under my skirt. I slowly pressed my middle finger against my clit, through my panties, and a quiet gasp escaped me. I did my best to be quiet, since everyone was still near the house. Not inside the house, but close. And Daryl was still behind the door.

The sound of skin slapping against each other became faster and faster and Daryl's breathing became faster too. As his hand moved faster, my movements on my clit also became much more faster. I closed my eyes, completely lost in the feeling of masturbation. My panties became wetter and wetter and my legs began to shake while I wished and imagined Daryl was moaning my name. My legs eventually gave up and I slowly knelt on the floor. On the other hand, I could briefly hear Daryl moaning very loudly before I heard nothing more. But I couldn't stop touching myself and imagining Daryl moaning my name, his rough fingers massaging my clit and stroking my skin. With my eyes closed, I gasped a little louder, his name also escaped my lips sometimes.

God, I was so lost in thought that I actually heard him say my name. "(Y/N)?… Hey…" But soon I was surprised by reality when I felt a rough hand on my shoulder. I immediately jumped and looked up at Daryl, his cheeks bright red. He looked at me confused and a little annoyed and I already knew that he knew what I had just done. But he also seemed uncomfortable, because his cheeks were bright red and his hands were shaking slightly. Maybe this was just the aftereffects of masturbating. "D-daryl…!?" Shocked, I pulled my hand away from between my legs and looked at his plate, which was next to me. The food had probably gone cold by now.

"I-i…! I can explain…!" I stuttered harshly, while I held my hand that had been satisfying my clit until recently. My fingertips shone slightly from my arousal seeping through my panties. But I didn't want Daryl to see them, even though he probably already knew what I was doing.

The archer remained silent, he just looked between my legs. There was something sparkling in his blue eyes before he turned around and looked down at me. At first I was afraid he would tell my daddy and I would get into so much trouble. "Come with me." Daryl then said suddenly. Without waiting for my answer, he went into his room and sat down on his bed. Swallowing hard, I got up anyway, taking the plate with me so that no one would get suspicious. Once inside the room, I put the plate on the bedside table and stood in front of Daryl. He looked down briefly before looking up at me, I couldn't even read his expression. "Ya were watchin' me, righ´?" He asked suddenly.

I didn't think it was possible, but my face turned even redder than it had been before. Swallowing hard, I looked down at the floor, feeling incredibly uncomfortable that he was now confronting me like this. The last time I had felt so pathetic was when Maggie had caught me kissing a picture of my favorite actor at the time. But this situation was a whole new level. But I didn't wanted to lie to Daryl, he was a good man. "Y-yes… I-I'm sorry, I didn't want-!" "Lay over ma lap. Now." His words confused me even more. Had he just told me to lie on his lap so that my butt was in the air? But I didn't contradict him, I just nodded silently.

I moved hesitantly towards him and knelt down on the bed next to him. At first I looked at Daryl quietly to make sure that this was really what he wanted. But his dark blue eyes looked at me stubbornly, as if they were telling me even more forcefully that I should finally lie across his lap. So I nodded slightly before I lay across his lap, my hips now over his thighs and my butt was stretched up a little. "'S yar family in yar house?" He asked as he lifted my skirt. Now I felt completely naked in front of him and my shame grew more and more. Daryl could now not only see my ass, but also my wet panties. "N-no…" I answered his question anyway. "W-why-!? Ah!” I gasped loudly when I felt him slap my left butt cheek.

It wasn't a hard slap, but he wasn't gentle either. It was hard enough to make me gasp and whimper, but not hard enough to hurt me. Another slap, this time on my right ass cheek. Whimpering, I dug my nails into his bed cover that was underneath us. "Yar dirty, ya know tha'?" He suddenly asked. I couldn't even answer his question before he slapped my ass again. I pressed my legs together tightly, even though these slaps hurt somehow, they also aroused me at the same time. I felt myself getting even wetter and my lower abdomen tingled strongly as I felt his slap on my ass again.

Whimpering, I pressed my face into his bed, but this was also a mistake. The bed smelled like him. How could it not smell like him, he was lying in this bed the whole time. Daryl's smell made my eyes roll back slightly and my whimpering turned into a quiet moan. While he slapped my now red skin with his right hand, his left hand held my legs down, as I sometimes lifted them out of reflex. "Dirty girl… ya like tha'?" He asked suddenly. A quiet whimper escaped me again, but I didn't answer him. Yes, I liked it, but I didn't want to admit it. Daryl remained silent for a while before he lifted some of the fabric of my panties and let it slap against my skin again. "Yar so goddamn wet…" He growled quietly.

Before I could react, Daryl pushed my panties aside, now he could see my wet pussy. "D-daryl…" "Shhh… be quiet." He said, in a stern but at the same time gentle tone. I hadn't known Daryl for long, but I believed and trusted him. It was dumb, yeah. But I didn´t really care. I could have pushed him away at any time, his grip wasn't firm or hurtful. He slowly let his finger slide through my wet folds before he pressed his rough finger against my clit. Panting, I pressed my legs together tighter and whimpered a little louder. For a while, Daryl massaged my clit in circular movements and I kept moaning and whimpering quietly. "D-daryl, please…" My voice came out quietly. At first I thought he hadn't heard me, but when he slid his fingers to my entrance, I got a cold shiver.

"Ya wan' it here?" He then asked, circling his finger around my entrance. Breathing heavily, I nodded slightly before pressing my face into his bed covers. His scent immediately filled my nose again, and he slowly pushed his finger into me. "Fuck, yar tigh'…" Daryl murmured quietly as he slowly began to move his finger. I was wet enough that he could start right away and I didn't feel any pain, it just felt weird. "D-daryl…~! G-god…" I murmured quietly as my grip on his bed covers became tighter and tighter.

Daryl just growled softly before he curled his finger slightly. He gently pressed his fingertip against my wet, tight inner walls and the hairs on my neck stood up. At some point Daryl added a second finger and he moved his fingers much faster now. Moaning, I pushed my ass even further towards him, which made him slap my ass with his other hand. Little tears of excitement came to my eyes, the mixture of his fingers inside me and his slaps on my ass provoked an orgasm in me. My breathing became faster and stronger while my legs trembled more and more. "Ya cumming?" The archer asked as he slapped my ass again.

"Y-yes…! P-please~…!" "Please wha'?" "P-please, make me cum~!" I moaned loudly and trembled even more. Daryl moved his fingers as fast as he could and pressed his fingertips against my special spot, which made me see black for a moment. Daryl slapped my ass once more and hit my special spot once more before I moaned loudly into his bed and came around his fingers. My head was spinning as Daryl slowly pulled his fingers out of me and gently stroked my ass. "'re ya good?" I heard Daryl ask in a soft voice.

Humming, I nodded slightly, but I was still trying to recover from the orgasm. I had touched myself before, but I had never been so overwhelmed by an orgasm, if I ever had one. "Yeah, yeah… I'm good…" I murmured quietly. I lay still for a while, Daryl adjusted my panties a little and pulled my skirt down again so that it covered my ass.

When I finally got myself together, I slowly climbed down from him. My face was still bright red and my legs were shaking a little. Daryl just looked up at me quietly before looking down at his food. "Can we… do this again?" I asked uncertainly and then looked at him. Daryl remained silent for a moment before turning back to me and looking at me again with his unreadable expression. "If ya wan´? Jus´… don´ tell yar old man." A certain joy and hope spread through me, but I didn't show it, I just nodded. Then I left his room again and closed the door behind me.

Somehow everything went a little too fast for me, but I didn't regret it for a second. So I went back to my room with a big grin to change my panties.

PoV Daryl:

I stayed in bed for a while before looking at my fingers, which were still wet from her orgasm. Something stirred in my pants again as I hesitantly put my fingers in my mouth and tasted them. God, she tasted as sweet as she looked. Of course I knew that she had been interested in me for a long time, but I never dared to speak to her properly because of our age difference. But this situation that happened recently made my heart beat faster and I could now dream about it every night. How her pussy wrapped tightly around my fingers, how her ass slowly turned red with every slap and how she moaned my name. God, I was already looking forward to the next time.

[cxffecoupx]

vernon as a girl dad

girl dad! vernon fluff, crack, a little smut, requested warnings: reader has a womb, vernon and his daughter sharing one braincell, sex (only a little though) wc: 771 writer's notes: it's been too long so i couldnt wait to post this (read: i didn't proof read this). to the anon who requested it, i'm so sorry for the long wait😭😭 but i really hope you understand and forgive me and that you enjoy it :) do lemme know your thoughts!!

girl dad! hansol who zones out during the birth of your babygirl. like, man's just stood there like🧍‍♂️while you're screaming out in the pain and frustration. he seems motionless, but trust that he's just processing the whole situation. like, what do you mean he's having a new member in his family? a little proof of your love for each other? he needs some time to compose.

girl dad! hansol who does not get overwhelmed for some reason. it's funny cause you just bawled your eyes out to him like, two hours after giving birth, and he's sitting beside you, one hand holding your hand and stroking it, and the other carefully cradling your daughter, who sleeps oblivious to all this chaos.

girl dad! hansol who becomes hesitant with your daughter. he knows he isnt the best to take care of her, and constanly worries if he'll end up doing something wrong. asks you every minute about what he should do, or why she's crying, or how to burp her. he's like a little boy trying to take care of his little sister.

girl dad! hansol who LOVES it when his baby plays with him. he'd be just sitting there, and she crawls over, pulling the ends with his pants to get his attention. he lifts her up on his shoulders, while watching the program on the tv. the next moment he feels her pulling his hair and his ears and he starts blushing and giggling. you sit beside from them, watching his giggles elicit hearty laughs from your daughter.

girl dad! hansol who secretly worries if your daughter will like the room he's taken so much effort to decorate. he's tailing along as you take her to her new room; he eagerly watches her as her tiny eyes look around the room; he ends up beaming with pride and joy when she squeals and runs to him for all the beautiful decorations. he feels so happy his heart threatens to explode and his cheeks hurt from smiling too hard.

girl dad! hansol who is eager to spend some alone time with you. dont get him wrong, he would love to spend every waking moment with his little girl, but it's been too long without any intimate touch and it has slowly driven him crazy. so the moment his sister, Sophia, is out the door with your daughter, his mouth is on yours and his hands on every inch of your skin, like he's trying to remember what your body felt like before all this beautiful chaos.

you're giggling, watching his rush and eagerness, but he takes no time to silence you and replace them with moans and whimpers as he slowly relishes you. his tongue moves with a new grace and vigor, and all thoughts to remain silent leaves your mind as you call out his name repeatedly throughout the night.

girl dad! hansol who is beyond ecstatic over the fact that his daughter and he share the same love for food. who steals food from your plate and ends up indirectly teaching his daughter the same. so now, when you have burgers and fries on special nights, you remain extra cautious because one moment of distraction could lead to the crunchy fries and half a burger going missing.

girl dad! hansol who looks forward to fridays for movie nights with his favourite girls. you both have always had this ritual, but now with a new member along, he takes this as an opportunity to pass on his love for movies to his little princess. by 8pm, you prepare caramel popcorn and vanilla ice cream as she rushes to sit on her daddy's lap and pick the movie to watch.

girl dad! hansol who begins to slowly learn along with his baby. hearing you talk to your daughter about the importance of expressing emotions helps him understand that hiding them only pains those who love him. catching himself laughing loudly over some antics of his girl's make him realise that laughing out loud only brings more happiness to your life. watching his babygirl go from hearing her mother read stories to her to reading those stories on her own made him worry of the fact that time passes by too quick. he starts to cherish every laugh they share, every hug they have, every silly little competitions they keep.

and although his worry still remains, he likes to push it away with the thought that there's no other people he'd rather watch the sunsets and sunrises (that bring the calm after the chaos of crying over sleep and getting ready) with.

[cher-rei]

sparks— jamal musiala [ J.M ]

how rare and beautiful it truly is that we exist [saturn– sleeping at last]

pairing: jamal musiala x fem!reader

summary: it's the knockout stage for germany for the 2024 euro, and as usual you're there to support your boyfriend, accompanied by some bad weather and a bet to spice up the evening.

genre(s): fluff (as usual)

[w.c: 3.3k] masterlist

notes: I had such a fun time writing this shut upppp shsjssj. this one is for my musiala girlies xx

"this weather is going to be the death of me," you said and took your seat beside your friends sophia and aaliyah who were huddled together in attempt to defeat the crisp yet strong german wind.

you tucked your chin into your scarf, but even then it didn't help. the three of you actually remembered to dress warm for today's match, unlike the last few games where you whole heartedly believed that the rain was just an episode.

before leaving the house sophia had to remind both you and aaliyah to bring scarfs because she had a bad feeling. so here you were, at the stadium in dortmund dressed in a pair of jeans, a cream knitted jumper, and a wool jacket that unfortunately hid your football jersey with your boyfriend's name decorated at the back.

the stadium was bustling and you couldn't believe that supporters still came out to watch football under these conditions, but it was an important match and you were filled with just as much anxiety and anticipation as them.

jamal was all the more excited the evening before when he facetimed you from his hotel room. there was a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke to you about training and how his day had been and it just reminded you of how much you missed him.

sophia and aaliyah agreed with you in that department, understanding just how difficult it was to be separated from their partners this long. but the three of you managed (barely) and showed up to every match together to show your support.

needless to say, the media were having a ball with the amount of content and pictures that were published of the three of you every week. there wasn't any issue with it however and jamal quite liked the fact that he got to show you off, saying that the world deserved to know just how smitten he was with you.

it was about twenty minutes into the first half when you felt a drop of rain hit your hand, having nothing much to do besides groan and deal with it. so far, little progress was made on the pitch despite the three shots on target that germany had.

"good on denmark for putting up a fight, but I'd really appreciate it if they gave up so that we can go home," aaliyah joked and you fought back a smile, while sophia was sat in her seat with a torn expression.

there was a small pout on her lips and by that look you knew that she was worried about kai. her gaze was glued to his figure running on the pitch, mentally cheering him on. "I think the rain is messing with him."

you hummed and lifted your head to look at the darkened sky, your face scrunching at the sight of the heavier clouds blowing over the stadium. the wind had started to pick up now which made the experience even more uncomfortable but you had to endure it.

a smile tugged at your lips as you watched your boyfriend make his tackles. there was just something about watching him play that made you appreciate the sport more, it was enticing. "pure class," you said out loud with a boastful smile.

sophia jokingly scoffed at your comment which caught the attention of aaliyah who felt the need to tease her. "what are you scoffing for?" she asked with a smug smile. "kai missed two goals already."

your lips parted in shock, but you remained silent and proceeded to listen to them go at each other from each side of you.

"yeah, well at least he had the chance. remind me where flo is again?" sophia countered and you let a laugh slip out at the attack on florian who was on the bench.

the teasing didn't stop though, and it got to the point where you had to physically back away because they were both leaning over you to take a jab at the other. the roaring of the fans was soon interrupted by an even louder roar which you recognised to be thunder.

seconds after, the rain got heavier and it was pouring. you heard the whistle blow from the pitch and apparently the match officials were taking an intermission to check if the lightning would be an issue any further.

you felt sophia's hand slip into yours, the chill sending a shiver down your spine. the three of you were nearly drenched and if it was one privilege that you loved then it was the option to sit in the booth at times like these.

it was announced that the match would be suspended until further notice due to the weather ten minutes before half time and your head instinctively turned to look for your boyfriend, to check if he was okay before you got up from your seat.

"and this is our cue to leave," aaliyah said and led you and sophia through the rampaging crowd to the top of the stands where you'd be covered.

the supporters however were doing the exact opposite and rejoicing in the downpour— dancing and waving their flags in the air while some used it as a form of shelter. the sight was anything but ordinary and you couldn't help but bask in the atmosphere.

another boom of thunder sounded through the air causing sophia to jump up beside you, her grip tightening on your hand. the three of you looked up at the sky, awing in unison at the strikes of lightning flashing between the clouds.

there was only one thing on your mind, and it was the need to take a picture. you took out your phone and waited for the perfect moment, practicically spamming the button until it hit the perfect shot.

aaliyah awed at the picture from behind you. "you have to send that to me, that looks unreal."

after a few more minutes and pictures being taken you finally made it upstairs to dry off. both teams were in their dressing rooms as well, probably more scared than ever because of the match interruption. uncertainty hung in the air at times like this, where all they could do was wait.

the door to the family booth that the three of you were sat in just closed when someone opened it again. to no one's surprise entered kai and florian sporting two completely different looks.

sophia's eyes softened at her boyfriend's state, his hair damp and kit looking like it just took a swim. she hesitated for a moment to pull him into a hug for some comfort seeing as he wasn't having the best time on the pitch.

aaliyah on the other hand ruffled her boyfriend's hair and laughed, gaining sophia's attention. "see what being on the bench does? he's as dry as the sahara right now while kai looks like he just drowned."

from beside aaliyah, florian's jaw dropped in offence, at the mention of him being benched which quickly broke out banter between the two while sophia was still comforting kai and giving him some words of encouragement.

watching them interact made your heart swell, making you miss jamal even more. and as if you summoned him, your smiling but breathless boyfriend made his entrance and without time to spare he pulled you into a tight hug.

despite the chill in the air and his body, you were filled with a warmth that you've missed so much the past few weeks. so much that you could almost excuse his audacity to hug you when he was dripping from head to toe.

you pulled away with a smile. "j, did you see the lightning? I can't believe that it's summer right now."

jamal looked at you puzzled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I came here to say that I missed you to the point of an enotional brekdown and you ask me about the lightning?"

your lips pursed at his counter but before you could defend yourself he pressed a quick but much needed kiss to your cheek. "we'll talk later, I just really needed to see you."

he looked up at his teammates who were leisurely enjoying their time with their partners, a look of disapproval on his face. "am I the only one who cares that we're playing an international knockout stage right now?"

"flo doesn't care, he's on the bench," aaliyah said and shot her boyfriend a teasing smile. "isn't that right babe?"

the german supporters in the stands all screamed in victory at the penalty that was given, and to no one's surprise kai was the one who was ready to take it and potentially put them in the lead.

aaliyah leant forward and looked at both you and sophia with a determined smile. "I think it's time for a bet."

a hum of intrigue left your lips at the idea but sophia shook her head. "he's going to get this in... I hope." she looked at her boyfriend who stood uneasily in front of the penalty area.

but a few words were exchanged between the three of you and an agreement was made.

"there's still 40 minutes left," she began and gestured to the pitch. "they're capable I'm sure, but whoever's boyfriend doesn't score has to pay for lunch tomorrow."

your eyebrows raised when she said "lunch". you knew very well that it wasn't just a meal. it consisted of breakfast, a trip to the museum or any activity really, lunch and supper. the loser would have to pay for the entire day, and it was no joke that you three were expensive.

aaliyah was more than confident in florian being subbed on and scoring, sophia was more uneasy than kai at the moment but had hope in her boyfriend, and you didn't really mind paying but you could never back down from a challenge.

the three of you shook on it and watched as kai got ready to take the penalty, everyone holding their breath in unison. it happened in a blink of an eye but the goal had sophia jumping up from her seat and clapping as loud as she could.

"guess I'm eating for free tomorrow," she teased and sat back down to which you rolled your eyes. aaliyah on the other hand shot you a competitive glare, causing you to laugh.

you eased back into your seat and shoved your hands into your coat pocket. "if jamal scores then I'll stand in the rain without my coat on, and if flo scores--"

"miraculously," sophia interjected which earned her a playful slap on the arm from aaliyah who quickly turned her attention back to you.

"then I'll have to? on the pitch?" she asked with her eyebrows raised and you nodded. she ran her tongue over her teeth and shook your hand, loving that you were upping the stakes and adding some more to the bet.

a good 10 minutes of no action went by and you were watching with immense focus, your gaze not trailing from jamal who looked breathtaking drenched in water, and without even saying anything sophia read your mind.

"they look ten times better with water dripping from them on the pitch, it adds something extra," she said bashfully and took her phone out to take a few pictures of kai since he wasn't too far away.

she then looked to aaliyah with a smug smirk. "obviously you wouldn't understand because flo is dryer than the sahara."

you covered your mouth at the retort about what aaliyah said earlier on. it seemed that the two of them never ended their playful banter, and you were always in the middle without complaining because it was genuinely so entertaining.

while they continued to talk, the universe gifted you with this perfect opportunity because you caught a certain someone's attention. he wasn't doing much on the pitch and you took advantage of the moment and gestured to the goalpost.

of course, jamal was confused but he was more than certain that you were asking him to score. he jogged on but kept his attention on you for a moment, and you gestured to the goalpost again, flashed him a loving smile and made a heart with your hands.

from beside you aaliyah let out a gasp. "that's literally cheating! you can't tell him to score."

you raised your hands in defence seeing as jamal had run off and continued to play. "I'm not doing this for me liya, I don't mind paying. and even if he does then I have to strip in this weather."

aaliyah shook her head at you, disagreeing with you wholeheartedly even though you tried to defend yourself. there wasn't much to say since you were being honest. "I told him to score because it gives him extra motivation."

now both sophia and aaliyah hummed unconvinced, to which you sighed.

"he just does better if I ask him to, okay? and he really wants that third goal, so if I ask him to do it then he'll do anything he can to get it."

it was practically scientifically proven (to you at least). jamal was always the type of person to do anything you asked him to, even before you guys started dating. all it took was a smile and he'd make sure that what you wanted was handed to you on a silver platter.

the devotion that he had towards you was unmatched, especially when it came to scoring or performing well on the pitch. no matter how he played, you always sat in the stands with a proud smile on your face and the appreciation that he was yours.

so even if he could barely see you from the stands, a simple gesture to the goalpost was enough of a tell tale that you wanted a goal. and if you wanted something, then he'd get it for you.

"and it's in from musiala!!!"

the german supporters jolted in their sears at the unexpected goal, rejoicing in the 2-0 lead and celebrating the clear advantage they had in heading to the quarter finals. you were the first one out of your seat the second the ball hit the back of your net, not minding the light drizzle hitting your face as you watched your boyfriend celebrate.

of course, he didn't forget about you and made sure to send a heart your way, one that you were more than happy to return. the adrenaline rushed to your cheeks in the form of a blush and looked at your friends with a smug smile.

they both sat in disbelief, their lips parted as you clapped. "I need that type of devotion in my life," sophia said and nudged your arm.

it wasn't too long that florian was subbed on for jamal, which was hilariously funny considering the context. aaliyah clapped with her lips pouted. "come on let's make it three for three, bench boy!"

both you and sophia burst out into a fit of laughter at her comment, and you swore that you saw flo turn to look at her with an expression that screamed "what the actual fuck??".

it was heading into the last few minutes of the match and despite flo having a few good opportunities, he took none of them. aaliyah grew frustrated from beside you, complaining about the incompetence of the players even though they did nothing wrong.

it was obvious that she was the one with the temper in the group, and that only showed even more when florian had a good run with the ball and she was practically sitting on the edge of her seat, screaming for him to kick it to which he did.

"yes that's what I'm talking about!" she screamed and hit her chest in victory. "three for three girls."

her moment of bliss didn't last long however because the referee blew the whistle for offside. she wasn't happy about that at all either and fought back a mouthful of curses. "what the fuck? how was the offside??"

the whistle blew for full time after a very eventful knockout stage, you and sophia adorning smiles while aaliyah was still complaining about the linesman not raising the flag sooner. the supporters started exiting the stadium slowly as the players went out onto the pitch.

the three of you weren't in any rush however, and made your way down leisurely. "at least you don't have to strip in the rain," sophia laughed and you rolled your eyes.

the rain did in fact start to pick up, and the light drizzle was lightly pouring now instead. you head out onto the pitch with them and started by removing your scarf and handed it to aaliyah who was more than happy to take it.

they watched with smiles as you took off your jacket, followed by your jumper to reveal the thin football jersey underneath. when they were happy with you, they headed off to their respective partners.

"you had one job! now I have to pay for lunch tomorrow!" aaliyah yelled as she approached flo who could've have been more confused. he threw his hands into the air at his girlfriend's outburst.

"thanks for the support I guess," he said and the two walked off to complain to kai and sophia.

for the nth time this evening you raised your head to look at the dark clouds hanging over the stadium, enjoying the feeling of the rain hitting your skin.

the moment of silence was interrupted by the feeling of someone tickling your side, and you turned to see your boyfriend who looked happier than ever.

"well done out there starboy," you said and loosely wrapped your arms around his neck while his hands took refuge on your waist.

he leant in to pepper your face with kisses, and you relished in the warmth you missed more than life itself. "when my girlfriend asks for something, she gets it."

your stomach did at least three flips at his answer and to anyone watching it seemed like this scene was straight out of a movie. seriously, you were standing in the middle of a football pitch in the rain. insane.

jamal pulled away to dry your face despite his sleeve being just as wet. "now can you please tell me why you aren't wearing a jacket right now, baby?"

your shoulders shrugged at his question. "I won the bet."

"huh?" he laughed at the absurdity and tried to make sense of what yoh had just told him, because in no way did it seem that being vulnerable in weather like this could be a reward. "and what did you win?"

you couldn't suppress the smile on your face, losing yourself in his eyes that felt all too close to home. "I won a very happy boyfriend."

the warmth of his hand cupping your cheek wasn't even registered until you felt his lips meet yours. the rain cascaded, each drop of rain that hit your skin being a reminder of just how real this moment was. how real he was.

his hands gently gripped your waist, and he pulled you closer for some extra warmth. the coolness of the rain heightened every sensation in your body— the warmth of his lips and his touch and the pounding of you heart against his chest.

and when the two of you finally pulled away, breathless but more in love than ever you were reminded to be thankful for moments like this. the rain continued to fall, but it no longer felt cold because all that mattered was the warmth of jamal as he looked at you with a softened gaze.

"we should kiss in the rain more often."

[the-avengers-not-the-nazis]

Strange human emotions

Summary: Castiel has been experiencing some rather strange emotions, especially ones that revolve around you.

Word count: 1.7k

A/n: No one really writes about Cas, and it’s a shame because him, Sam and Dean are my absolute favorite. But I hope you enjoy ;)

༺═────────────═༻

He could feel it coming up again, that same burning feeling in his chest that keeps him up deep into the night. Not that he can sleep to begin with, but still the feeling invaded his every thought as he waited for you and the brothers to wake up. 

Cas didn’t know how to explain it, these strange human emotions that he had learned over the years, he didn’t understand them. He knew the ones that you and the boys had taught him, how it helped him learn to express how he felt to others. And he was truly grateful for it. 

But, the ones that he was never taught always worried him. Like when he could feel when someone is staring at him, even though nobody is in the room with him. Or even worse when you are near, or when you touch his shoulder when you walk past him, or how about when you speak to him so beautifully that he feels his stomach churning into a weird fluttery feeling. 

There must be something wrong, Cas would conclude, pacing the bunker’s library in the dead of night. Maybe you had been taken over by a shapeshifter and this was the universes way of warning him. 

Yeah, that had to be it, but how would he tell Sam and Dean that? For Chucks sake you are one of their closest friends, how could he tell them that they would need to kill you?

No. No, he couldn’t kill you. He just needs to figure it out a bit more by morning, he couldn’t just go on a killing spree. It wouldn’t be right. 

But if you were in danger or you are the danger then he would need to speak to the brothers about this. But, how?

Cas sat across from you and Dean, Sam to his right of the booth as he stared out the fogged window. The falling snow momentarily capturing his attention, the way each flake was built uniquely different from the other. 

It amazed him how something so beautiful could end up in a world like this. 

“Hey, Happy meal.” Dean suddenly spoke up, dragging Cas away from the window. “You gonna focus, or are we gonna have to tell you while we fight the sons of a bitches?”

“I’m focused.” Cas told the older man, his hands coming to rest in his lap. 

“Mhm, yeah sure.” 

Sam cleared his throat, turning his computer to face the others as he began to explain the current case to them. “So, Sophia Cocklen had reported her husband missing, nearly a month ago. And as of three days ago both her brother and eldest son have disappeared as well.”

“Has to have something to do with the men,” you spoke up, dipping a French fry in your ketchup before popping it in your mouth. “Because Sophia’s sister, mother and two daughters hadn’t been touched at all over the past month.”

Sam nodded, clicking on another tab as some police reports popped on screen. “That’s what I thought as well, but the thing is that none of them have any bad records on there name. And…”

Sams voice seemed to drift off, running farther and farther from his ears as the same burning feeling began to arise from his chest. He glanced at you for a quick second, the way you looked at your work and took it seriously. The way your eyes seemed to have a small sparkle in them when you spoke. 

And especially the way your hair slightly fell in front of your eyes, hiding that sparkle that made his stomach erupt. It made him want to reach over the table and push it out of your way, just so he could catch another glimpse of…

You pushed your hair out of your face, halting Cas’s thoughts completely. Why was he thinking that? What were you and the boys talking about? Why did his body’s vessel feel so warm and sweaty? Was it getting hotter? What if you had turned evil? What if this was your way to slowly kill him off?

Him. Castiel, an angel of the Lord. Struck down by a woman that was more than likely possessed by a monster. 

“Cas?” You questioned, facing the angelic being who seemed to be almost in a trance. “You alright? You look like your sweaty.”

Cas pulled at the collar of his trench coat, the feeling of sweat sliding down his neck. Boy, did he hate how the human body can physically act when you don’t need it to. 

“Yes,” He told you rubbing his hands against his pants legs. “Yes I’m fine it’s just a little warm in here is all.”

“Really?” Dean asked, taking a quick sip from his lukewarm coffee. “It’s pretty cold in here to me, what about you Sam? Y/n?”

“Dean.” 

“I’m just saying, you gotta focus in, Cas. You’ve been acting real edgy for the last couple of weeks.”

“I’m fine,” Cas told him, trying not to drag the situation down the rabbit hole. “It’s probably just… allergies.” 

The boys and you shred a quick look with one another, knowing well enough that angels don’t have allergies. “Cassie?” You questioned leaning forward onto the table. “You don’t get allergies.”

Cas felt his face warm up, “That was just the first thing that came to mind.” He told you, his fingers fiddling with one another. “That’s what you all do.”

Dean smacked his lips, letting out a quick ok before continuing with his conversation. “As I was saying we need to go and search every place that these men where last seen at. And normally I would say go by ourselves to save them, but I’m not so sure what we are up against just yet. So Sam and I will head down to the bar the brother was last seen and Cas, you and Y/n can go and search the junkyard.”

Everyone agreed to Deans order, quickly finishing up their lunch before they need to head back out. Well almost everyone agreed. Cas sat there in his seat, pondering if he should pull Dean or Sam aside and ask if these feelings he is getting about you is bad or good. Because he does not want to harm others but at the same time he didn’t want to hurt you either. 

He wanted to beat his head against the table, the thoughts that raced through his mind aggravated him. But what could he do about it? Wait… you and him were going to the junkyard to search for clues of the missing family members, he himself could interrogate you there. But, how?

༺═────────────═༻

At the junkyard, you and Cas kept you voices low, barley speaking a word to one another as you inspected the place. Your flashlight shined about the place, scoping out any and all items that could appear useful for the case. 

“So, Sam said that the dad and son used to work here. Almost like a father-son business, you know?” You told him, shining the light in the angels direction, mindful not to blind him in the eye. 

He nodded, unable to stop the fluttery filling the further he walked with you. It was killing him, he wanted to ask you what you were doing, because he knew for a fact it was neither of the boys. But, at the same time he didn’t know how to bring it up. 

On one hand he could slowly bring up the topic, have a simple conversation before he would ask you. Though, on the other hand, he could just flat out ask you if you were trying to kill him. Because, that’s what it surely felt like. That you were killing him slowly and purposefully.

Cas came to a quick decision, he would hold a conversation with you then ask you. Simple as that, no harm no foul. 

“Cassie?” You asked, that soft voice of yours causing his chest to burn and his stomach to twist into knots. What the hell were you doing to him? “Are you alright-“

“Are you trying to kill me?”

You were shocked by his sudden question, his straightforward tone and seriousness catching you off guard completely. “… No?”

“It sure doesn’t seem that way.” He continued to accuse, folding his arms over his chest like he’d seen Dean do plenty of times before. “Would you care tell why you are trying to kill me?”

“But, I’m not?” You told him, voice uncertain and slightly laced with worthy. “Why would you think that?”

Cas glanced around the junkyard, almost as if the answer was somewhere written in the piles upon piles of junk. “My chest has been burning every time you come close to me, or how about when my stomach make me feel like my vessel is going to induce vomiting. When I know for a fact that I don’t eat anything to make it do so.”

You stood silently, letting the words sink deep into your skin. His chest burned? His stomach felt like he was going to throw up? Why the hell would he have thought that you were trying to kill him? It honestly just sounded like his vessel was sick, or maybe he—

You cut your thoughts short, and it suddenly clicked in your mind. A sly smile gracing your lips as you walked towards the angel. “Oh, Cassie~” You sang out, free hand coming to play with the sleeve of his trench coat. “Do you have a crush on me?”

Cas furrowed his brows, eyes dancing across your face as you came closer. “…No? At least I don’t think so.”

A chuckle left your lips, standing up on your tip toes you gave the angel a quick kiss on his check. Watching as a light blush crept upon his cheeks. “I like you too, Cassie.” You turned back to the junkyard, flashing your light at an empty bathtub and broken mattress, leaving the poor angel stuck in his spot. 

Cas lifted a hand to where you had kissed him, the ghost of your lips making his heart stutter in his chest. Damn you, he thought to himself. Damn you and these strange human emotions. 

[brainddeadd]

general TWD violence and angst, fluff, suggestive

hinted that reader has a chronic illness but not specified

i have daryl brain rot

Darly Dixon, who can't believe he's got a damn crush in the middle of the damned apocalypse 🙄

(Even though he doesn't know that's what it is. All he knows is that he can't stop thinking about you, worrying about you, wanting to protect you, wants you to eat well and be healthy, will fight anyone and everyone who looks at you wrong and always occasionally gets a fucken boner when thinking about you)

Darly Dixon, who keeps you in his sight when you're on a run together.

Daryl Dixon, who brings you shit he thinks you'd like and leaves it somewhere you find it.

(like when he gave Carol the flower for Sophia)

Darly Dixon, who catches you before you fall when you come across the corpse of someone you sued to know.

Daryl Dixon, who brings you a flower that night, perched in a beer bottle he cleaned out and filled with water, a supportive hand being placed on your shoulder briefly, before he's gone, leaving you to find comfort in Carol's arms.

Daryl Dixon, who refuses to let you go on a run with him for a few days after, claiming it's because you're emotional and need to rest, but telling Rick that it's because this was your home and there are likely to be more people you used to know.

Daryl Dixon, who makes sure to help you climb over shit and up walls when it's a necessary movement.

Darly Dixon, who complains when he's being nursed for the gun shot to the head but settles down when you walk in, knowing you won't let him argue.

Daryl Dixon, who cleans out your cell in the prison for you, telling you to rest and keep up your strength.

Darly Dixon, who freaks out when you hug him for the first time. Arms suspended in mid-air, body tense. Eventually, he rests them around you, hands flattening along your back, pulling you into him. His face sinks to your neck, and he relaxes into your hold.

Daryl Dixon, who knows something has changed between the two of you but can't pinpoint what it is. He doesn't ask, though. Doesn't want to scare you. So he let's the change happen. You spend more time by his side than you do away from it, hand brushing his when you walk.

Daryl Dixon, who finally asks one day, when you're preparing for a night away from camp, and he just can't seem to control the words from falling from his mouth. He's shocked when you tell him it's because you love him.

"Why?" It's a simple question, but it shocks you to your core. Does he really not know?

"Becayse you're you, Daryl Dixon." You say it like that's enough, like that makes it all make sense.

Darly Dixon, who let's you sit in silence for a while, unable to make his brain work well enough to tell you.. anything.

"I love ya, too, ya know."

"I know." He's not surprised that you know. He hasn't exactly tried to hide it from you. Couldn't even if he wanted to. But he wants you to feel the love he has for you, to feel any love in this world. Even though he can't bring himself to say it.

Daryl Dixon, who holds you close that night, body pressed to yours, his arms around your waist and his face pressed into your neck. Neither of you sleep, too aware of the other, of the particular issue he has. Neither of you make a move. It's not the right time. Not the right place.

Daryl Dixon, who kisses you gently in the morning, after he's made you eat. His hands stay by his sides, his crossbow on his back, and he catches you so off guard you barely manage to kiss him back.

"Ls go home."

[ghostboneswrites2]

part three

obsession

series masterlist .. taglist .. masterlist

warnings: profanity, TWD things

recommended reads: Need .. Hazelnut .. Strong Broken Things ..

like an outsider

“Thanks again, Dale. Really.” You said as you shook the old man’s firm hand, smiling into his kind eyes. You’d grown to really like him over the past week. He had a way of making you feel at home. That was probably why Amy and Andrea liked him so much, too.

Particularly, you were grateful to him now for letting you take watch on top of the RV. A job like that felt like a vacation to you. You literally sat in a lawn chair looking at trees with binoculars all day.

“Nah, really.” He waved you off. “I get tired of staring at trees all day.”

“I was just thinking about how nice it was to stare at trees all day, for a change.” You chuckled.

“Dale!” An excited Carl called as he ran over, kicking dust up as he screeched to a halt, Lori shuffling behind him to catch up. “My mom’s coming to ask if you can keep an eye on me!”

“Carl..” Lori shook her head and sighed as she caught up, eyeing him with that signature mom-glare. “What did I tell you about runnin’ off from me?”

“Sorry momma.” The boy apologized.

“Sorry, Dale. Shane just needed to talk to me and—“

“No apologies necessary.” Dale cut Lori off. “I was just about to take over on watch and I wouldn’t mind a second set of eyes.” Carl’s face lit up as Dale handed him the binoculars and ushered the boy up the ladder. Lori thanked Dale and offered you an awkward half-smile before she went to find Shane and you followed Dale up the ladder behind Carl. As Dale helped his young sidekick get settled and adjust his binoculars, you glanced around camp.

Shane and Lori could be seen walking toward the westward edge of the camp. The sun was beginning to set, casting a shadow from the trees behind them. Sophia and Carol were sifting around in the sand down by the quarry. The Morales family were down there too, washing up the kids for the night. Amy and Andrea were working on a fire. Things were calm and everyone seemed to have found comfortable schedules to carry on about their daily lives. As far as coexisting, people seemed to manage.

The real concern was the rate at which supplies were running low. Food, medicine, clothes, hygienic supplies. People were falling short on daily necessities left and right. You could relate. You didn’t have much anymore. You barely had anything when you got to camp. You’d heard talk around camp about an upcoming supply run, though. A boy named Glenn said he knew his way around the city pretty well, and a few others were willing to go. You’d considered volunteering yourself, in hopes to find some fresh clothes without burdening anyone else for them. You were just worried Shane wouldn’t let you go. Then again, maybe if you went, he wouldn’t treat you like an outsider anymore

“So what if I see something?” Carl asked, bringing you back to focus.

“Well,” Dale pondered. “I guess you’d… tell me and then… Well, I’d tell everyone else and we’d act accordingly.”

“Why can’t I just tell everyone?” Carl wondered.

“Maybe we can all three warn everyone together.” You suggested.

“I can do it.” Carl insisted.

“Just because you can do something alone doesn’t mean you should.” You argued.

“She’s got a point.” Dale agreed. “Don’t you think it would be much faster if the three of us worked as a team to tell everyone?”

“I guess…” Carl sighed. “But we don’t need three people on watch.” The boy looked at you. “Shane says everyone should be working and playing their part.”

“I was on watch before you.” You assured him. “And I work every day. I’ve never seen you or your mom—“

“Okay!” Dale spoke over you. “Okay, let’s give Y/N the binoculars and go patrol the perimeter. That’s part of a lookout’s job.” He told Carl as he guided him toward the ladder. As Carl began to climb down, Dale leaned in and told you, “Remember. It’s a sin to kill a mockingbird.”

“Okay.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Better get to patrolling, Atticus Finch.” You teased as you snatched away the binoculars. As you paced the top of the RV your mind lingered on Dale’s remark. You were well acquainted with that saying, being that it came from one of your dad’s favorite books. He’d always quote Atticus Finch when you argued with your sister.

You guessed he was right. The boy was only repeating what he’d heard, nothing more.

Only about fifteen minutes passed before Dale returned with Carl, and in that time nothing particularly exciting happened, or even out of the ordinary. Trees swaying in a breeze that was too gentle to relive you of the heat, the occasional takeoff of a bird leaving her nest.

“Anything exciting?” Dale asked as he hoisted himself back atop the RV, Carl right behind him.

“No.” You sighed. “Same old treetops.”

“Well, I suppose that’s a good thing.” Dale shrugged.

“Suppose so.” You agreed.

With the afternoon preparing for its slow retreat into the night, and two sets of eyes already on watch, you figured you’d leave the guys to it and go relax somewhere. By the time dinner rolled around, you’d managed to get nearly an hour of peace in your tent. It was refreshing. So much so that you decided to join everyone around the fire that night, as opposed to your usual spot in your tent.

“This is actually kinda good.” You commented to Carol, who sat beside you to your right. Sophia was next to her, followed by Ed.

“Yeah.” Sophia chuckled timidly. “It is.”

“It’s food. Don’t matter if it’s good. You just shut up and eat it. It’s called gratitude.” Ed lectured the girl. You glanced at Carol for only a moment before shooting visual daggers at Ed. His eyes remained on the fire, distant and angry. What a rotten fool, you thought to yourself as you turned your attention back to the meal you were scraping out of a reused tin can. How anyone as kind and gentle as Carol could stick around someone like that was beyond you. But then again, maybe that’s what made her his perfect victim. She was soft and malleable, and he had the brute strength to beat her into whatever he needed her to be.

“‘S good ‘cause I killed it and cooked it myself.” Daryl pitched in, turning the heads of you and the Peletiers. He had been standing behind you all, scarfing down his share. He usually didn’t join the rest of the camp for anything, but he seemed to linger when you were eating the meat he cooked. You weren’t sure why, it’s not like he seemed to enjoy cooking.

“Oh.” Sophia muttered, keeping her eyes down. Daryl felt a twinge of sympathy for the child. Every time he looked at her sad eyes, suddenly he was the same scared kid all over again.

“Yup.” He continued. “‘S a few squirrels. I’ll have to remember you like ‘em next time I’m out there.”

With that, he scraped the last bite of his tree-rat-stew down his guzzler and tossed his can and fork into the pile to be washed.

You muddled on that conversation for hours as you tossed and turned in your tent. It was nothing, really. A small act of solidarity for a kid being treated unfairly was something you’d have considered the bare minimum, in terms of human decency. Still, it shocked you. It seemed so out of character for a man who nearly crushed your jaw just a few nights ago, simply because you said the wrong word.

God, you internally groaned. Why couldn’t you ever get a good nights rest without being tormented by your own mind?

With a huff of frustration you sat yourself up and rubbed your hands over your face. If you couldn’t sleep, you’d do something productive with your time. But what? It was pitch black outside by that point. The fire had dwindled to ash, not even a fleck of an ember floating up into the sky as you unzipped your tent and poked your head out. Everything was still.

Thoughtlessly, you crawled out of your tent and stretched your arms and legs, scanning your eyes over the camp as you did. You decided you’d just parole the perimeter until you felt tired enough to try your hand at rest once more.

As you made your way to the tree line which created a natural border around the tents and vehicles, you could hear muffled voices from the woods. A twinge of nerves quickened your pulse as you leaned against a tree and strained your ear to pick up on the conversation. You were sure it was Shane and Lori, but you couldn’t quite make out what was being said.

Carefully — quietly — you stepped beyond the shoreline of trees and into the woodsy shadows, taking slow steps forward until you were close enough to make out their words.

“—and if you didn’t come back I—“

“I’ll come back.” Shane cut Lori’s words short, a gentle plea.

“You don’t know that.” Lori argued. “You couldn’t possibly know what could go wrong out there. You send as many people as you need to, Shane, but you stay here. You are not leaving me to figure this out on my own.”

They’re talking about a run to the city, you concluded.

From where you stood, you could hear Lori’s breaths as she spoke to him through gritted teeth. A few beats pass before Shane could be heard exhaling slowly. Lori had won this battle.

“Alright.” He surrenders. “I won’t send nobody out there without me.” He insists. “Just volunteers.”

Deciding you’d heard enough, you retreated back to the clearing and began patrolling as your originally intended. You tossed Shane’s words around in your head as your feet carried you forward.

Did that mean you could volunteer?

The next morning, you were up bright and early, waiting for Shane to call one of his meetings to announce the city run, eager to volunteer yourself. Since Carol and Mrs.Morales were still getting themselves and their kids ready for the day, you took over getting the water boiled for consumption. Usually, Carol and Mrs.Morales did the water in the morning and filled everyone’s canteens and bottles.

“Alright everyone.” Shane’s voice carried over the morning buzz of campers, who slowly gathered around without needing to be asked. “It’s no secret that our supplies are getting low. Hygiene essentials, food, dishes, first aid, ammunition, clothes… You name it, we need it.”

Everyone seemed to nod in agreement as you prodded the fire beneath the pot of water.

“Now, the most practical location to find these necessities is unfortunately that overrun city right behind us.” He continued, pointing over his shoulder in the general direction of Atlanta. “Which means, the team we put together to make this run needs to be the most capable of the bunch.”

His eyes scan the crowd of survivors, no doubt assessing them to pick out the most capable. You don’t miss the way his eyes don’t even graze over you. Asshole.

“But,” he carries on, “—we can’t leave everyone else here defenseless, either. We’re gonna need fighters both here, and out there.”

A hum of agreement washes over the camp. You chew at your lip.

“I’ve talked with a few people.” He says. With Lori, you mentally retort. “We’ve come to the decision that maybe I shouldn’t lead a team into the city like I planned. Maybe I should stay back, make sure the team that runs to Atlanta has a camp to come back to.”

Now, people seemed a little torn. Some nodded in agreement, others glanced amongst each other as if criticizing their leader.

“Listen..” Shane ran a stressful hand through his hair and over his face as he chose his next words. “I’d never make anyone do something I’m not doin’ myself. I don’t even like asking that of you all. We all know the risks. What I’m asking for is volunteers. People who can use a gun, people who can follow a plan and stick to it.”

As he spoke, Glenn stepped forward to his side.

“Glenn has volunteered to lead a group of us into the city. He knows his way around, and he’s fast. This won’t be his first run into the city, but it will be his first with a team.” Shane nodded at everyone. “Anyone willing to follow him, go ahead and step forward.”

Andrea is one of the first to volunteer, despite Amy’s pleas for her to stay behind. Next is T-Dog, who isn’t held tightly by his family, because he has none. Jacqui volunteered too, along with Mr.Morales.

“Okay.” Shane nodded. “If that’s all—“

His words were cut short when you stepped away from the finally boiling water and over to the group of volunteers. Something like annoyance flashes in his eyes as you take your place beside Jacqui.

“Alright. Thank you all for volunteering—“

“Hold on, now.” Merle rasped as he stepped forward too. The agitation radiating from Shane’s built form was palpable. Merle took his place beside you.

Shane glanced at Glenn, who just shrugged. “More people means more supplies, right?” The boy reasoned. Shane nodded.

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix @superbowlisgay @liizzygrant @eddiemunsonsupremecy @raeraegoaway @ophelialaufey @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfsalltheway @negansbestie @mfnqueen1 @raynelbabe

[try-set-me-on-fire]

I was tagged by @iinryer and @eddiebabygirldiaz for fuck it Friday yesterday, and Saturday can be Friday if you want I think, and Kaitlin shared Eddie seeing ghosts so sticking with the theme: here’s the start of witch Eddie! Which is actually the third part of werewolf buck and Bobby and the devil… it’s Halloween season babyyyy

Since I’m a day late in place of tags I’m just going to ask you, dear reader, to share your spooky season wips or favorite fics or headcannons or etc etc if you want! I’d love to hear about them!

The thing about it all is that Eddie’s never been particularly good at being a witch. There are fundamental skill sets you need to deal with magic, and he’s always been lacking in all of them. When he was seven — sometimes too young for the magic to show up, but definitely an Age — his favorite game to play pretend was baseball. He’d stand in the backyard and throw empty pitches from imaginary gloves, run around bases that didn’t exist. It had made Ramon laugh — hot pride in Eddie’s stomach, twisting around with its rarity — and call out “I can take you to the ballpark, Edmundo, there’s no need to Imagine this.” Abuela had shushed him, though there was something a little worried about her eyes.

“Practical,” she’d called him. “A practical boy.” But years later when she’d coo-ed and awed over Adriana and Sophia and their intricate games of princesses and monsters and astronauts and deep sea diving, he’d come to understand what she probably meant — kindly, his grandmother loved him — was that he just wasn’t particularly imaginative, the word damningly and correctly uncapitalized.

Faith, he tried so hard to be good at. He knew all his prayers, said them when he woke up and before he went to bed and at dinner and all through church every Sunday. Some of his other friends, his cousins, the other little boys who fidgeted in the pews and looked longingly at the stained glass like they might be able to see the sky outside, they always complained about being dragged to church. Eddie never minded, though. He liked when they all got to sing, he liked that everyone he knew was there, he liked that he knew all the words. A part of something. He liked to be a part of something. But then his abuelo had died, and abuela was going to move out to California to live near her daughter there, and he’d really thought about God for the first time. “He’s a mean man,” he’d cried to mother, “He’s too mean, why did He do this? Why does He take things away? It’s not right. If I was God-” and he’d been smacked before he could finish the blasphemy, but there it was.

Abuela had come to him later, banished to his room. “Faith is a practice, mijito.” Her eyes were so sad, now. “If you cannot believe the big things, how will you Believe the small ones?” She’d sighed, and kissed his forehead. “Even when it’s difficult, even when it’s trouble. Promise me you’ll try.”

“I promise,” he’d said, curled up against her, meaning it with all his heart, but the next day she’d got on a plane and that Sunday he’d stared at the stained glass, wiggled in his pew.

Wanting. What do you want Edmundo. What do you want, Eddie. Seventeen years old and abuela had lived in California for more of his life than she’d lived in Texas, and he’s been the Man of the House since not long after, and he gets up at five to got to practice before school and he drives his sisters to ballet and gymnastics afterwards, and he works at the grocery store over on Third Street in the evenings and on weekends whenever he’s not at baseball practice again. He doesn’t know when he’s supposed to find time for wanting, for Wanting. He’s pretty good at baseball, but not good enough, he’s never going to make it anywhere. He doesn’t mind the store, but making $5.25 an hour to mop floors and let blonde women with expired coupons yell at him for the rest of his life fills him with just slightly more dread than when Ramon takes him around the oil company offices, talks to him about business school. What do you dream, Eddie? Nothing in particular. What do you want, Eddie? Something other than this.

He meets Shannon in class or by a lake, he's not sure which he should count. The lake is the first time they talked, the first time he saw her freckled shoulders and heard her hoarse laugh and thought he wanted to get to know her better. He wants to kiss her. He kissed Marnie Phillips at homecoming last year, and it was fine, kind of wet. Shannon’s lips are always dry even though she has a graveyard of chapsticks at the bottom of her backpack. She smiled at him when he brought her a new tube from the grocery store, cherry flavored. When he tells Ramon he’s going to ask her out when they see each other in 3rd period English, Ramon looks over his glasses at Eddie, eyes stern.

“Be careful, Eddie. Young love can be intense. You have to keep yourself under control. You cannot Want this girl to like you.”

“Am I supposed to want things or not?” Eddie had snapped — cheeks red at the word love when really all he was thinking about was maybe making out at the movies — because of course he wouldn’t, using magic to make someone do something they don’t want to do is horrible, and he thought he was doing pretty okay winning Shannon over the old fashioned way. He was grounded for his trouble, but Shannon had laughed when he told her about it, and agreed to go out with him once his punishment had lifted.

Shannon wanted easily. She was on the school newspaper, she wanted to study journalism, she took the bus to Austin one weekend to talk to the professors at UT, see what their school paper was like. She had an after school job at the movie theater, and saved most of every paycheck and talked about how she’d decorate her apartment when she moved for school. She wanted to tell stories that were important, she wanted to change the world. Eddie only wanted as much time with her as he could get before she left to live a bigger life than he could ever picture, but then there were two little lines on a white stick, and the two- the three of them forever, and all he wanted was to get away.

And even if he’d had a better Imagination, even if he had stronger Belief, even if he knew how to Want without ruining everything, the last thing — Intention — would always trip him up anyway. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Abuela had done it so easily, Believing so strongly that what she Wanted was true that the whole world twisted itself around until it became so. But Eddie always thought that the last step — Intending the change to happen — was more or less admitting the thing you Believed wasn’t true, and his magic would always fall apart at the finish line. He got a little better at it in the army, because working with his hands made a little more sense to him. Packing gauze was a physical action he was taking to tend to a wound, something he was actually doing to help all the Wanting and Belief along. People under his care healed a little faster maybe, got less infections maybe. He was never entirely sure what was him, what was magic, what was luck. He was untalented (unTalented). Whatever. He could do his best anyway. He’d decided to stop thinking about it so much.

And hadn’t the universe had a big old laugh about that one?

Now, Eddie stands in his kitchen, and what he wants — damn the capital letter — is for Buck to pick up the fucking phone.

[kazesauce]

TBOC Hopes and Wild Speculation

*CONTAINS REFERENCES TO 201 AND FILMING SPOILERS*

I'm so grateful to see everyone so excited after the Tribeca premiere, including seeing some old names arise from their fandom slumber. Welcome back!

Melissa said that they took some core issues that were unresolved from the main series and built on those. These are core issues I hope they address so Carol can heal.

Sophia - Carol needs to move out of the denial phase of grief and properly mourn her daughter. There are strong indications in 201 that this will be addressed.

The Banishment - I firmly believe that Rick telling Carol no one would want her around if they knew who she really was is what's underpinning her wanting to run away constantly. Carol doesn't know that Daryl knows about Karen and David and he defended her when Rick exiled her. I hope that will be addressed.

Lizzie and Mika - This was an extremely traumatic experience for Carol, and she kept her promise to Tyreese never to talk about it. I hope something happens to help her process that grief and affirm that she made the right decision in that situation, even though it was gut wrenching.

Find Me Fight - I hope they talk about that fight and everything that was fueling it, including Daryl's savior complex that's caused him so much trouble. It's the reason he ended up in France and also why he missed the boat home. (Daryl would have died in Newfoundland and Carol never would have found him, so narratively it's a good thing he stayed, but that's not the point I'm trying to make.)

Wild Speculation/Hopes

Sylvie and Emile's puppy love will stir something in Caryl.

Losang will be revealed to be as evil as Genet.

Codron will adopt Laurent at the end of the season. (Codron and Laurent were present when they filmed Daryl and Carol going down the tunnel to Spain. I guess this would mean Isabelle is dead or gravely injured, but I just want my boy Codron to get a happy ending.)

Please reblog or comment with your own hopes and wild speculations! No judgment, have fun!

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Excited for the new ones!!! 👀

🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️⚖️ 🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕

Thank you!!!

36 for 🌲:

---

“Your sister is missing,” he repeats. “No one has seen or heard from her in nearly twenty-four hours. Including Sophia.” 

There’s a terror that rips through Eddie at those words. Bone chilling. His sister is missing? His youngest sister? Who just had heart heart broken? 

“Dad, you need to call the police,” Eddie says. “She-she could have hurt herself. She was so upset. Have you called the police? Have you called her landlord?” 

“Slow down, Edmundo,” Ramon says. As if Eddie is overreacting to this fucking news. “We’re not calling the police. Sophia used her spare key to get into the apartment.” 

“Okay, and?” Eddie demands. 

“She packed up everything,” Ramon says. “She left.” 

“She left,” Eddie repeats dumbly.

“Of her own choice, Eddie. She didn’t leave a note. All her social media accounts are gone. This… This isn’t… She hasn’t hurt herself. She’s fled.”

It takes Eddie a minute to process all this. She just… Left? Deactivated social media and ran? She didn’t even tell Sophia?

“Dad, you still need to call the police,” Eddie cautions. “She still might hurt herself.”

“Well… Sophia agrees with you. Your mother is saying not to.”

And what on fucking earth could possess her to hold that opinion?

---

36 for ⚖️

---

Buck gets the sense that there’s no point asking for anything more. They’re under strict procedures. His wants don’t really matter. 

“Okay,” Buck concedes. “Thank you.”

⚖️

He gets to talk to Maddie for maybe two minutes, rushed and sort of frantic, before they pull him away for more tests. She cries, not really believing they’re speaking. 

“They told me you were going to die, Evan. Oh, god. You’re okay. You’re really okay.”

“Maddie, how long has it been?” He manages to ask her before they pull him away. 

“Tommy brought you to the hospital eight days ago.” 

Eight days? Eight fucking days? That’s longer than he spent in the hospital after being struck by lightning. No wonder they thought he was dying. And how on earth does he feel fine now? 

They run every test imaginable on Buck. They draw so much blood it leaves him faint. Which, honestly? Might be for the best. It makes him spend a lot of those torturous hours napping, rather than fretting or being consumed with his own boredom. And even though he’s feeling better, he finds that his body is still quite tired. 

He knows well enough by now, the toll almost dying takes. 

He sleeps heavily, even when it’s only a brief respite. Like he’s slipping in and out of a dark, dreamless void. He has no awareness of what’s happening around him. 

At one point, he thinks he hears someone speaking to him. But it doesn’t sound like Dr. Hanson or any of the other staff he’s met. Maybe the shift changed? 

Can you hear me yet? Just barely? Hmm. It’s not yet time. 

---

36 for 🤕

---

 The only thing. Because a house just collapsed on top of his husband and captain and he won’t be able to solve that himself. And still he falls to his knees in front of the collapse anyway, grabbing at pieces of rubble, shouting. 

“BUCK! BOBBY! BUCK!” 

“Eddie, stop!” 

There’s a hand on his shoulder. 

Eddie keeps grabbing at blocks of concrete and rebar, trying to toss them aside. 

“Come on, Eddie,” Chim says, pulling him away. “Stop. You have to stop!”

“HE’S MY HUSBAND!” Eddie protests.

“And he’s my brother!” Chim retorts. “What are we gonna do? Dig by hand? God, you two are really meant for each other.”

Eddie has no idea what that means.

“We’re going to get help, okay?” Chim says. “We’ll get them out of there.

Eddie stands up. “Yeah. Okay. Quickly.”

“Quickly,” Chim agrees. He lifts his radio to his face again. “Cap? Buck? You copy?”

There’s no response. 

Chim tries one more time. “Captain Nash? Firefighter Buckley?”

[worms-in-the-brain]

So we know this spreadsheet, right? These are the test results from the study the Magnus Institute ran on that group of kids, including our best guy Sam.

First of all: As Sam is we’re getting more and more MagInst. mentions as the series progresses, i thought it would be neat to dissect it a little. I’m fairly sure that it has been done before, but I haven’t really seen it. Because of that, if anyone has a good post or any additional info I’m missing here, I’d love to see it!

Now, on with

the spreadsheet

I’m not sure if we’ve confirmed what exactly the Institute is looking for with these tests. My current theory is that they might’ve been looking for a host/catalyst/avatar of sorts which they could guide from a young age, though I’m not sure if that holds up.

On top of that, I’m not sure what green opposed to red or yellow opposed to white means in the spreadsheet. I am however assuming that the majority of the kids were eventually rejected.

I think that the kids marked in red are kids who already got or are going to be rejected: Griffin(?), Opal, Winnie and Yasmine. It’s incomplete, though, as we know that Sam got terminated from the program at some point during it’s run.

I also think that the kids marked in white are probably of particular interest to the Institute: Joshua, Zoe, Olivia and Sophia. I’ll be comparing their scores to Sam’s scores, since we know for a fact he got rejected at some point, showing us that his results weren’t favorable for the Institute.

So while we can’t know for certain what the institute wanted to do with these results, we can make an estimation on what qualities they were looking for.

First of, name and date of birth. This isn’t really relevant for us, except maybe that the maximum age difference is about 5 years.

Next: Piaget. Jean Piaget was a psychologist who studied children’s cognitive development. The stages in the spreadsheet are from a theory of Piaget’s that described intellectual development (in particular, the way which they obtain and process information). There are 4 stages in total, but the spreadsheet only contains stage 2 and 3.

Stage 2, The Preoperational Stage: Can use/understand symbolism, struggles to see from another’s perspective, and thinks very concretely (based on one’s own experiences (what they hear, feel, see. Example: something flat is bigger than something round, though in reality the volumes are the same and the flat shape only looks bigger) and the present as opposed to the past of future).

Stage 3, The Concrete Operational Stage: Begins to use/understand logic and conservation (the amount of water in a wide cup is the same amount in a tall, narrow cup), begins to think of how others might think and feel and understand that what the child thinks might be different from what others think.

The most notable on this section is that Joshua is the only kid shown to be at stage 2. Sam and all the other children are at stage 3, likely meaning that Joshua struggles most with understanding that other people can think differently from him and finds it difficult to apply logic.

Kohlberg. Lawrence Kohlberg's stages of moral development are an adaptation of Piaget’s theory centered on moral development in children. There are six stages in total, divided into 3 levels. The spreadsheet shows levels 2 and 3.

Level 2: Action’s morality is judged by social norms and societal expectations. Social rules are generally followed even if there is no reward or threat of punishment. However, the nature of the rules themselves aren’t questioned and often blindly followed. (Includes stage 3 (being aware of other’s judgement and wants to please them in order to be liked/perceived as good) and stage 4 (wants to follow the rules/demand of authority. They don’t really feel the need to please any individual and are instead devoted to a duty to follow laws. When someone breaks a law, they did wrong)

Level 3: Morality is judged on an individual level. Societal norms are recognized as shifting instead of constant. Authorities and rules are questioned. Rules can be broken when out of line with their personal values. (Includes stage 5 (Laws shouldn’t always dictate behavior and the greater good is prioritized) and stage 6 (justice is prioritized. There is an obligation to break unjust laws. Actions are taking because they are fundamentally good, not for self interest or because of an obligation to laws).

Notable here is that Olivia is the only child at stage 2. Likely meaning she has a rigid concept of what is good and what should be done according to a pre-established set of rules and might have trouble recognizing when those rules might not apply or be harmful.

Prosocial. Prosocial behavior is identified by an intent to benefit others, either on an individual level or for the group. This behavior can occur out of empathy or self-interest. It can include a willingness to share and cooperate with, comfort, or help others. It often falls in line with social norms.

Joshua is shown as the only one with a moderate score in this category, which could be indicative that he is less likely to specifically act to benefit someone or a group. This might fall in line with his lower Piaget score. If he doesn’t realize others might not always benefit from what benefits him, he’s less likely to act on it.

Sally-Anne. The Sally-Anne test tests theory of mind. It can show that someone recognizes that others have their own thoughts and beliefs that might not align with reality.

Zoe, Olivia and Sophia all fail the test, showing they might not have a complete understanding of what others might think, feel or believe. Interestingly, Joshua passes the test, despite his lower Piaget score suggesting he might fail. Maybe this is suggesting that he does understand logic and know what others might think, but has less motivation to act in other’s benefit.

Ultimatum. Everyone is listed as ‘fair’, so this category doesn’t tell us much.

Empathy index.

Joshua, Zoe, Olivia, and Sophia all have average empathy scores among most of the other children. Sam has the highest empathy score out of all the children, meaning he probably excels at putting himself in other’s shoes, understanding how others might feel and how they perceive a situation.

Milgram. The Milgram experiments were a series of experiments conducted by Stanley Milgram. They tested the willingness of participants to fallow the orders of authority, even if those orders misaligned with the participant’s own moral code.

Joshua and Zoe scored moderately on the test, showing they were more willing to carry out tasks given to them by an authority figure that went against their own moral beliefs than the children who scored low such as Olivia and Sophia, who likely weren’t influenced by the authority in the experiment and stuck to their own moral. Sam is the only one shown to have scored high on the experiment, probably meaning he is extremely obedient to authority figures and has a high disregard for his own morals when authority needs him to be, despite his high empathy.

Asch. The Asch conformity experiments were a series of experiments conducted by Solomon Asch. They tested an individual’s willingness to conform to the group (of peers), despite their own beliefs.

Joshua and Zoe have low scores, showing that they’re unlikely to go against their own beliefs in order to not stand out in a group. Olivia and Sophia are shown to have moderate scores, they might conform to the group under specific circumstances. Sam, once again, is the only one with a high score, meaning he is most likely to want to blend in with a group and is willing to suppress his own beliefs to do so.

One thing I don’t really understand is the ‘s’ marked in Winnie’s Asch score. Does it mean Standard? Does it show she hasn’t done the test? Is it a typo? No clue!

In conclusion

Considering all that information, I think it’s fair to say that the Institute is looking for children who are easy to manipulate.

Joshua’s level 2 Piaget score behaviour can make it difficult for him to realize other’s might have bad intentions and his moderate Milgram score can mean he’s more willing to fallow the instructions of authorities. Along with that, his moderate Prosocial score might indicate he’s more likely to act in ways that are detrimental to others. Even though he passed the Sally-Anne test, this might make him vulnerable to manipulation.

Zoe also had a moderate Milgram score, showing she’s more susceptible to the requests of authority figures. Zoe, Olivia and Sophia also failed the Sally-Anne test, which might mean they struggle with understanding the intentions of others and how their actions impact the people around them. That can mean they can be influenced to act in ways they don’t fully comprehend the consequences of.

Olivia has a level 2 Kohlberg score, which probably means she has a very rigid view on rules and feels an obligation to follow them. She and Sophia also have a moderate Asch score, making them more susceptible to peer pressure.

But then why was Sam rejected? He had the highest Milgram and Asch test results, which can indicate he can be very vulnerable to manipulation!

I believe it this to do with his high empathy score. Considering that and the fact he also passes the Sally-Anne test, he might have been too likely to figure out what the Institute’s intentions with them were and would’ve likely informed others, which the Institute couldn’t have.

That, or something about his high empathy score would’ve somehow prevented him from becoming a proper catalyst, he might care too much for the people he’d harm and that would somehow prevent something to fully manifest.

But really, I have no idea! If anyone has some thoughts about this, I’d love to hear them!

[ashtheketchum]

Longer hair {A new family}

A/N: A lot of people like Daryl with long hair and I can understand that, he looks really good with long hair. But there's something about Daryl with short hair too, or is it just me?

Era: Between Season 2 and 3

Warnings: Typical twd gore, fluff, mention of pregnancy

Words: 1.4k

Summary: In the apocalypse you can't always cut your hair, which is why Daryl decided to grow his hair long. How does his new family react to this?

Masterlist!

____________________________

PoV (Y/N):

After we had to flee out of Hershel's farm, we ran from one place to another. Our group was in a bad state either, we had lost Sophia, our children were freezing due to the cold that was getting closer and Lori was pregnant. We kept running out of food and not a week went by when we had no food for a day. Daryl went out every day to hunt us something to eat, but most of the time he only came back with a few berries and a squirrel.

Because of the walkers, we could never stay in one place for long, as they also moved around. We moved around for almost half a year without having a new ,,Home". It was frustrating, but I always tried to look at it positively. We hadn't lost anyone yet, I still had (D/N) and Daryl by my side, and Lori seemed to be giving birth to a fairly healthy baby. Rick led our group great, and sometimes we found even more weapons.

At the moment we had settled into a small wooden house, Lori needed to rest and our children needed a take a break too. Even though (D/N) always confirmed that she was going hunting with Daryl, I forbade her from doing so. I was already worried enough about Daryl, so I didn't have to worry about (D/N) if she was running around out there. Of course I knew that Daryl would look after her, but Daryl should look after himself out there more than (D/N). So while we sat in the house, I looked after Lori with Carol, while Carl and (D/N) talked together and kept each other warm. The winter was really brutal this year. And it hadn't even really started yet. "Mom…?" "What is it, honey?" I asked as I brushed Lori's hair. I looked at her briefly before she pointed to my hair. “Our hair grows… even Daryl’s hair.” She then said.

That's right, since we didn't have time to take care of our hair, it grew without stopping. My hair was also a little longer than before the apocalypse began. "Hm, you're right… should I cut your hair?" I then asked her. But (D/N) immediately shook her head and put her hands on her head. Carl smiled at her amusedly, while (D/N) just pouted. Carol and Lori also looked at her amusedly. "No! I want to grow my hair with you and Daryl!" She then said firmly. I smiled lovingly at her briefly before blushing slightly. My heart beats a little faster and I cleared my throat quietly. "Okay, honey."

Daryl's hair had really grown, faster than the hair of others in the group. Daryl looked good with short hair, but he looked even better with long hair. I quietly looked at Lori's hair, which I was still brushing. A small smile crept onto my lips as I imagined what Daryl would look like in a few years if he didn't get his hair cut. In the end, he would have even longer hair than me. "You have hearts in your eyes." I suddenly heard Carol's voice. I immediately flinched and looked up at her, an amused and loving smile played on her lips while Lori giggled quietly. Carl and (D/N) only looked at us briefly in confusion before they shrugged their shoulders and went back to their business.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about…" I murmured quietly before I stood up and stroked my knees. Carol just raised an eyebrow and stood up too. "It's okay, you can admit it." "Not… here…" I murmured quietly and nodded briefly in the direction of Carl and (D/N), who were still talking to each other. Lori stroked my leg briefly and looked up at me. "You can go, I'll take care of them." She said with a polite smile. I nodded gratefully at her before I went out, Carol followed me. In front of the wooden hut we then swapped positions with Glenn and Tdog so that the two of them could rest and warm up.

Sighing loudly, I crossed my arms and looked out into the distance. Daryl was already hunting again and not a second went by when I wasn't worried about him. "And?" Carol's voice suddenly rang out. Caught out, I swallowed hard before looking at her. She was also looking into the distance. "I just… I was just thinking about what Daryl would look like in a few years…" I then admitted quietly and the blush returned to my cheeks. Although I was ice cold, my face practically glowed and Carol giggled quietly. "Oh, I see… you like his long hair, right?" When she asked, I just hummed in agreement and looked out into the distance again.

"Do you think he'll cut it one day?" I then asked. I sounded more scared than I actually was, I wasn't even scared. Somehow I would just be disappointed if he would cut his hair short again. But Carol shook her head and then looked at me encouragingly. "Not if you tell him to leave it. I'm sure he would never even touch a scissors if you ask him." She then said, giggling. I also chuckled quietly, the thought that Daryl would really grow his hair, for me, made my heart beat faster. "And I'm sure, (D/N) would love Daryl's long hair too." Carol then added. An approving hum escaped me again and I smiled lovingly at Carol. "Thanks… maybe I'll ask him today… if he comes back…" "We will see…"

<Time Skip>

In the evening, Daryl came back with two squirrels and a few nuts that he had found on the ground. He quickly prepared our food before we started eating. It was divided fairly, only Lori and the children got a little more than the others. Daryl sat with (D/N) and me. "Daryl…" (D/N)'s voice suddenly rang out. The archer just hummed quietly and looked down at her. Then (D/N) pointed to his hair and then to hers. "Our hair grows long together!" She said happily. Daryl remained silent for a moment before nodding and stroking her head. "Yah, sure, lil´ one… but I think lon' hair looks better on ya…" He murmured quietly.

I stayed quiet for a moment before shaking my head slightly. "Don't say that… you look good with long hair too… I like it." I said as I continued eating. My cheeks were probably bright red again and I couldn't look him in the eyes, which is why I looked down at my food. But I could feel Daryl's gaze on me. "Ya think so?" He asked after a while. "I know so… you look good with long hair…" God, if (D/N) wasn't there, I would have told him what I really thought of his long hair. He looked hot with it and not even exaggerated. But somehow I wanted to tell him without (D/N) noticing.

So I took a deep breath before looking at him. My eyes sparkled slightly as I licked my lips lightly. A quiet growl escaped me and I hoped inwardly that he had understood. With Daryl, you never know. "Ah, okay… I guess… I'll le´ them grow then…" "Really!? Great! I'll talk to Carl about it!" (D/N) then jumped up happily and ran over to Carl, who was sitting between Lori and Rick. I watched her go, amused. Looks like (D/N) really likes Carl. "Yar a tease…" Daryl then whispered quietly. He kissed my temple briefly before he continued eating. Humming, I continued eating too. "I don't wanna use the word sexy in front of my daughter." I then explained quietly.

Daryl remained silent for a moment before looking at me in confusion. "Ya think I look sexy with long hair?" "I-… What were you thinking when I looked at you like that?" "… tha' ya wan' more food… ya looked hungry…" I looked at him in silence. I somehow wanted to hug Daryl and flick his forehead at the same time. Yes, I had looked at him hungrily, but not because I wanted food, but because I wanted him. "We… talk about this later, okay?" Daryl looked at me even more confused now, but I just kept eating and leaned closer to him. God, I loved him so much, how could someone be so innocent.

[indigoraysoflight]

“Spicy food in India” | Caryl prompt

requested by @that-left-turn ❤️

~

Cardamom & Curry

Carol stared at the fish. They’d been in Munnar for three days, and Carol had already gathered three South Indian recipes to take home. She decided to try making fish curry for lunch instead of finding a local restaurant, but there was one problem. Carol had never filleted a pomfret before. Daryl was the one who always filleted fish in their home, but he was asleep, so she was on her own.

Henry and his dad, Ezekiel, had planned a trip to Kerala, South India and wanted Lydia to go with them. Lydia and Henry had been dating for three years, and Carol adored Henry. He was respectful – if a little spoiled – and he loved Lydia. She knew Daryl liked him too but was extra grumpy around the boy who was dating his adopted daughter. Henry and his dad travelled a lot and often took Lydia with them. But Daryl refused to let their kid go across the world by herself, even though their kid wasn't really 'a kid'. So, Ezekiel generously extended the invitation to Lydia’s adoptive mom and her adoptive mom’s platonic best friend, who also happened to be Lydia’s adoptive father. To say their first dinner together had been awkward would be an understatement. 

They’d been saving up for a big vacation for a year and a half now, so the timing worked out. Her catering business was going well this year, but Carol doubted they’d ever be able to afford this expensive rental. The luxury cottage was built with rustic stone and wood, and nestled on top of a hill, surrounded by tea and cardamom plantations. Ezekiel had given them the tour when they arrived, but the space was too big for her taste; she would’ve preferred a cozy but comfortable cottage with a view of the rolling hills. Still, she’d smiled graciously every time he pointed out an expensive feature on the property while Daryl sulked in the back. There was an odd tension between Daryl and Ezekiel, and she'd figured out why after what happened yesterday. Carol thought it best to stay with Daryl today and take some time to think–

“You tryna fillet the fish with your mind? Just gotta use a knife.” 

Carol blinked, realizing she had zoned out and she was still staring at the pomfret. “Is that how it works? I thought if I stared at it sternly, it would fillet itself.”

“Gimme.” He limped over and started filleting the pomfrets with impressive precision. 

“Show off,” she muttered under her breath.

His hair was dishevelled, and he wore cargo shorts and a faded tie-dye t-shirt that Sophia had made for him years ago. She pushed his fringe back to examine the cut on his face, held together by butterfly bandages. They'd been more generous with their touches lately – especially since they got here – but she didn't mind, and she didn't think he minded either by the way he leaned into her touch.  

“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch,” he said without looking up at her. 

“You’re lucky you didn't need stitches.” He looked up at her then, his eyes intense as they flicked down to her lips. She realized she was just running her fingers through his hair now and stepped back. 

She and Daryl woke up before dawn the last two mornings and, in a jetlagged daze, walked along the path through the tea plantation to catch the sunrise. They didn’t expect it to rain on their way back yesterday. She slipped and would’ve tumbled down the path, but Daryl steadied her, lost his balance, and landed in the tea plantation. Besides a large cut on the left side of his face, tea leaves stuck to his elbows and knees, and a sprained ankle — he was intact. His eyes held a fear she hadn’t seen in five years –  fear and something else – as he frantically checked her for injuries and then held her in his arms for a solid minute in the rain.  

“This fish isn't going to marinate itself,” she said in a chipper voice and mixed the spices in a bowl to calm her heart rate before smearing a generous amount of the paste on the fish. 

“That’s enough. Dunno if I need more spice.”

Carol smirked and batted her eyelashes at him. “But I thought you liked it when I’m spicy, Pookie.”   

“Stop.” 

They fell into the rhythm they had in their own kitchen. She sauteed the onions with the spice mixture while he squinted at the recipe she’d scribbled on a paper pad and started cutting the tomatoes – stopping every few seconds to pop a slice in his mouth. Carol took a deep breath and focused on the onions. Something had viscerally shifted between them on the long flight over here. She’d clung to him on the plane during turbulence, and after they landed, they kept reaching for an excuse to touch each other. She’d been so unguarded in the way she leered at him that Lydia and Henry had given her a knowing look more than once.  

“Where’s the royal family? I’m guessing Lydia is with them?” Daryl casually fed her a slice of tomato and then sucked the juice off his fingers. 

They’re gone, and I’m in trouble. Carol steadied her voice. “Lydia, Henry, and Zeke went sightseeing; they won’t return until after dinner.” It’s just us, and you keep doing that thing with your mouth, she thought.

Carol let the curry simmer while they stepped onto the balcony and lounged on the chairs, staring at the green expanse. The air was dewy and perpetually scented with a hint of cardamom. Sophia would’ve loved this place. She would be perched on the balcony with her sketchbook, scribbling away and absentmindedly picking at her nails. 

“Why didn’t ya go with them? I’m sure Henry’s dad will miss you.” Daryl growled and picked at his nail. 

The tension between Daryl and Ezekiel got worse when he limped on their way back yesterday, and Ezekiel offered to pay for a doctor to take a look at him. Carol knew he would refuse, and thankfully she had packed some first aid supplies because she knew this man too damn well.

Carol rolled her eyes. “I wanted to stay and take care of Lydia’s dad, so he understood.”

Daryl’s lips quirked up, summoning a flutter in her belly. What are we doing here, Daryl? She wanted to ask. They’d been tip-toeing around each other for years now. Or she thought they were. Maybe this is all they’d ever be – platonic best friends who lived together, who raised a daughter and lost another. Two people who let their touches linger too long, reached for each other when they were afraid, longed for each other when they were apart, and sometimes slept in each other’s arms but never crossed that line. Always something more, but never quite enough. 

“Surprised he hasn’t asked ya out yet.” 

Carol blinked at Daryl, wanting to point out the irony in what he’d said. Irritation coursed through her as the curry burbled away, and she decided to come clean about what had happened the previous evening. 

“He did after dinner last night.”

“What?” Daryl looked like he’d been punched in the gut; Carol tried to ignore the twinge of guilt and failed. 

Ezekiel had helped her load the dishwasher in the kitchen and asked her out before they retired to their rooms last night. He’d been a perfect gentleman – charming, respectful, and chivalrous. But all she’d thought about was how Daryl’s eyes had lingered on her lips before dinner when he’d told her she looked beautiful. 

“I told him I’ll think about it.” They weren’t in a position to anger their host, even though she felt that Ezekiel would accept defeat graciously and not put them in an awkward position. 

“Why didn’t ya say yes?”

“Why does it matter?”

Daryl’s behaviour was giving her whiplash. He practically undressed her with his eyes last night and almost launched himself at Ezekiel for complimenting her at dinner. Now, he was pushing her to date the man.

Daryl peered through his fringe, his eyes earnest. “He’s real charming, rich, generous, and clearly has a thing for ya.”

Carol crossed her arms. “If he’s so great, why don't you go out with him?”

“Pfft. Ain’t my type.” 

“What is your type?” Carol raised her eyebrows, ignoring the heat that crept up her cheeks as Daryl’s eyes roamed her face and lingered on her lips before he pried his gaze away.

“Don’t change the subject. He’s corny and a bit pretentious, but he doesn’t seem like an asshole.”

“So, that’s what you want then? For me to date Ezekiel?” Her voice wavered, but she held his gaze, her anger now simmering to the surface and prickling at her eyes. Is that what he wanted? Then why did he look at her like that all the time — like he was afraid of losing her? Had she gotten this all wrong? Did she spend years pining after a man who was finally telling her he was not interested? 

Daryl looked away. “I want ya to be happy. He’d treat you like a Queen and-”

“-I should get started on the appam.” 

Carol went to the kitchen before the tears formed in her eyes, hating the open plan of the cottage where she could feel Daryl’s eyes follow her. Her hand reached for the pink bauble pendant resting on her chest. After Sophia died, they’d grown closer and built a wall between them at the same time. But when Lydia came into their lives, the wall started breaking down. She hoped, in time, they could pick up where they left off. Now, she didn’t know why she thought this vacation would be a new beginning for them. Daryl was never going to see her as anything but his best friend. She’d waited too long. 

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

Daryl loved watching her cook. Her hair was tied up in a bun; she wore a loose Bowie t-shirt, baggy sweats, and soft fuzzy elf socks Lydia got for her last Christmas. The aroma of cardamom and chilli lingered in the air as she poured rice batter on a pan to make the rice crepes they called appam. He wished he could walk up and wrap his arms around her, kiss the nape of her neck and see if he could taste cardamom on her skin. I bet Ezekiel didn't think this hard before he made his move. He sighed. 

Daryl didn’t know how many days he had left to savour her presence, reach for her hand when they walked up a crooked path and watch the sunrise wash over her freckles. She looked radiant last night in the blue dress that hugged her form and illuminated her eyes. He knew sooner or later, she’d meet a man who deserved her. I didn’t think it would be this soon. To think he’d hoped this vacation would give them time to figure out what their future looked like. Even if Daryl selfishly wished to be with her, Carol deserved someone who could offer her the world. Ezekiel sure as hell checked all the boxes.

Carol deserved all of this. Lavish vacations, a charming partner, and children who adored her – who were safe and in her arms. She deserved a comfortable life after everything she’d been through.  

Daryl’s work as a contractor was unpredictable, and renting a cottage of this size for twelve days was out of the question. He thought the trip he’d taken her and Sophia on to the Grand Canyon had been extravagant because he’d spent a chunk of his savings to upgrade them to a big cabin with a mini-pool. Now Henry’s rich father entered the picture and showed him up with one effortless, generous gesture and an offhanded “We vacation here every summer”. The universe could’ve kicked him in the balls, and it would’ve hurt less. 

Daryl walked into the kitchen and started slicing some red onions to soak in lemon juice because he needed something to do before his thoughts choked him. Carol’s eyes were far away when she held up a spoon so he could taste the curry; the heat from the spices hit him straight in the back of his throat and lingered on his palate. 

“Why did you stay after Sophia died?” 

Daryl coughed. “What?”

“You heard me.”

It didn’t even occur to him to leave after Sophia died. When he’d rented the basement apartment in Carol’s house all those years ago, he only wanted a cheap place to rest his head as he went through trade school. Daryl hadn’t expected to fall so deeply in love with Carol and co-parent her child with her. Before he knew it, he'd moved upstairs into the spare room, and he walked the kid to school every day and helped with her homework. He’d come to love Sophia like she was his own daughter. When she died, he and Carol had anchored each other through their shared grief over the loss of their little girl. Then, another kid walked through the doors, and they were given another chance.  

“I loved that kid. I know Sophia wasn’t mine, but she was.” He didn’t expect his voice to break as his eyes lingered on Carol's pink bauble necklace. 

“I know. But that’s not what I asked.” her voice was soft, her eyes crystal in the afternoon light – she was crying in the kitchen when he was busy leering at her. He wanted to kick himself for being an idiot again. 

Carol pinned him with her gaze. “Why’d you stay?” 

“Why didn’t ya say yes to Ezekiel?” he deflected.

“I’m not interested in him.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t love him.” Carol’s voice was a desperate whisper. “Ezekiel wasn’t the one who held me through my grief. He didn’t take my daughter trick-or-treating or scour ten game stores to find the obscure video game she wanted. He didn’t make her chicken soup with alphabet pasta when she was sick. He didn’t treat me and my daughter like we were the center of his universe-” Carol’s voice broke, and she wiped her tears. 

“Carol-” 

“-I thought we were on the same page, Daryl, and hoped we’d have a stroke of luck with the change of scenery, but I guess I was wrong.” 

Did she really not know? Had he not been clear enough about how he felt? He loved her so much he’d let her walk into a pretentious rich guy’s arms—shit. As he played the thoughts over in his mind, he realized how they must’ve sounded out loud. I fucked up. Words chased each other in his mind as he struggled to explain. 

“Our luck’s run out,” Carol sighed and turned to leave.

Before he could think too hard, he pulled her close and kissed her. Her lips tasted of cardamom, and her. Carol. A small part of his mind worried about her shoving him away, but instead, she melted in his embrace and drew him in for more. 

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

His lips were softer than she’d imagined. He kissed her deeply and slowly like he had all the time in the world. His hands were everywhere – caressing her face, gripping her waist, tangled in her hair – like he was tracing her silhouette in his memory. When they came up for air, her mind was molasses, and her thoughts returned to her slowly. He traced her jawline with a featherlight touch and looked at her like he worried she would disappear. Carol blinked away the tears and ran a finger alongside the butterfly bandages on his face. Their eyes met, and he held her hand to his cheek and kissed it. 

“Why’d you stay?” she asked again. 

“I stayed because I belong with you.”

There was nothing else she could say but kiss him again and wonder why she hadn’t done it sooner. 

“Why did you tell me to date Ezekiel?” she asked between kisses. 

“I’m an idiot.” He kissed her back.

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

After their make-out session, they took a quick break to catch a breath and have lunch – a bowl of fish curry with rice crepes or appam. They’d been eating spicy food for days, and he always regretted it in the morning, but that didn't stop him. He dove in immediately, savouring every bite as the sharp taste of chilli and cardamom hit his palate. Sooo good. He could still taste the fish, and it melted in his mouth. He couldn’t slow down if he tried, so he helped himself to a red onion slice soaked in lemon juice and hummed as the acid cut through the savoury richness of the curry.

Carol watched him with a smile – her gaze soft and open. Most of her hair had escaped the bun, her cheeks were flushed, and her lips looked swollen and kissable. His brain short-circuited; he didn’t know whether to continue eating the curry or kiss her. She solved his problem by scooping some fish with the appam and feeding it to him; Daryl held her gaze as he ate and licked the pads of her fingers with his tongue. 

He didn’t know which one of them closed the gap. He didn’t care because he was kissing the woman he loved. His hands pulled her close, and her fingers grabbed his hair as they stumbled toward her bedroom. The taste of cardamon and curry lingered on his tongue as he pressed openmouthed kisses to her neck.   

“Your lips taste spicy, Pookie.” 

“Thought you like it when I’m spicy.”

Her laughter bounced off the walls as he kicked the bedroom door shut behind him. 

_________________________________________________________

A few notes: 

Munnar: Munnar is a hillstation in India’s Kerala state. It's surrounded by rolling hills dotted with tea, coffee, and cardamom plantations.

Appam: Appam is a thin and lacy fermented rice pancake. Traditionally, it’s eaten with stew or coconut chutney. 

Pomfret: This delicate white fish is a staple in coastal regions of India.  

Fish curry recipe for the curious minds (if you plan on making it, please don’t forget to marinate your protein). 

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.154 Didn't see it coming

Mama gives us quick hugs when we arrive, then rushes upstairs to get back on grandma duty. Alessia has never been sensitive, so I'm not surprised she isn't trying to help Mama during her time of need. I hope, at some point, she'll start considering others' feelings and needs before her own. I know better than anyone how important fitness is, but I haven't done my morning yoga in weeks, and I go for a jog when I can. She's not a child anymore. She can't stay in the pool all day while Mama takes care of everything. What will she do when Mama's gone? Instead of dumping the responsibility on her, she needs to learn how to do motherhood and get those trade secrets from an OG while she can.

Since Desiree hadn't met her cousins yet, and the point of this visit is to spend time with Mama, I take her upstairs to get acquainted. She doesn't know who they are or what she's doing in this house, but she seems to enjoy the coos and babbles from the other babies. Breanna is chilling on the play mat, so I set Desi in the empty crib, and for once she doesn't fight or cry. She actually smiles. Is she communicating with her cousins? Perhaps this is the beginning of a beautiful alliance. Mama asks me to watch them for a few moments while she tends the garden, so of course I agree. There's an odd calm in the room. I don't think I've ever been around when all three triplets were satisfied. Grandmas are so magical, I tell ya. I take a moment and gaze at them. Just like Des, they are getting too big too fast. Bre and Arvin might look like their no-good daddy, but they sure are beautiful. Lex is Alessia's mini me. Did she name him that because it sounds like her name?

We didn't eat breakfast because I wanted to get to the house as soon as possible, so I go downstairs to put something on the grill. I don't know why, but I've been really into the grill lately. Maybe that whole man and fire thing has some truth in it. Mama had changed her clothes and hadn't made it to the garden yet, so we walk downstairs together. Well, I go down first and she follows, rather; she's a lot slower these days. As I head out the door, I tell her I'm going to put something on the grill. "Okay. I love you," she says. There's something a little extra warm and fuzzy in that one. Even though she says it all the time, it seems kind of odd for her to throw that in there, so I turn around to say it back. I expect to see her shining face, instead, I see the life oozing out of her.

I stand there for a moment, shocked by my mother's lifeless body on the floor. I did not see that one coming. Like, at all. I'm not ready! Why did it have to happen so soon?! I mean, I know "soon" is a construct of my own mind, and it's just her time, but still! Seeing that hurt. It really really hurts.

"LESS!!!"

The grim reaper shows up, looking like we interrupted his beach vacation or something, and I beg him to give her more time because she has four young grandchildren, and she is a full-time caretaker of three of them. My sister needs her. I plead. I implore. I grovel. When I'm out of reasons for him to revive her, he pulls out his tablet and scrolls through the names, taps on her profile when he sees it, and reads the details of her life. It must be an interesting read because he lets out a "hmmm" now and then, giving me hope he finds something that will convince him not to take her away.

"She's had quite a life," he said, making me even more hopeful. "But my hands are tied. She has no unfinished business. It's her time to go, dude."

Less finally comes in from outside as he tells me this, looking every bit as shocked as me. Sophia starts bawling immediately.

"Sorry for your loss, folks," the reaper says. "Now, if you would excuse me."

He gently side steps us, inching towards Mama's body, and a panic runs through me. I can't watch this. I can't watch him take away my mom's soul, so I rush to the living room to let him destroy what's left of our family.

[jflemings]

— grave

pairing: chris sturniolo x reader

summary: chris can’t commit and you’ve finally had enough

warnings: drinking, angst, mentions of sex but no actual suggestive content

a/n: i know i said that a matt fic would be next but after watching chris’s interview i couldn’t shake this idea!! hurt my feelings will be the next one tho :) ALSOOO for the sake of the fic, y/n is friends with sophia birlem, halle vaneta ect <3

— I COULD NEVER MAKE YOU WANT ME LIKE I WANTED TO BE WANTED

I COULD NEVER REALLY CHANGE YOU LIKE I THOUGHT THAT I COULD

your heart dropped straight to your ass when you finished watching the clip of chris that had come across your for you page.

you had honestly been so excited for him to go on the zach sang show, having watched a few interviews yourself, and had done nothing but support and praise chris when he told you. now though, you felt stupid.

“i’m not looking for love, my goal is to meet someone and be starstruck by them” is what he has said when the topic of relationships had come up, further pushing the narrative that he wasn’t really interested in them. you were left speechless as he said that, not fully expecting him to say it the way he did and it had left your heart breaking in your chest.

you felt used and humiliated the more you watched the clip that had been posted by the fanpage. a lump had lodged itself in the base of your throat and a deep pit was achingly present in your stomach. chris had, essentially, been using you for the past six months to get what he wanted out of a relationship without actually being in one, and you had let him.

as the cogs turn in your head you begin to realise that everything the two of you did together meant nothing to him. the vulnerable conversations, the dates, the sex, all of it had been for nothing in the long run; he had just told the internet that he wasn’t in love with you. you knew chris, and his dating habits, but you had foolishly thought that maybe things were changing for him, that maybe he was beginning to feel the same way you had been feeling for far too long.

the truth was that you were in love with chris and that you had been for a little while now. he treated you with the upmost respect and kindness, always paying attention to your needs and the little things you did. he was constantly checking up on you and asking about how your day was, buying you lunch when you had to work and even getting you ‘just because’ flowers whenever he felt like it.

you just felt fucking sick.

throwing the covers off yourself, you begin to gather your things from around his room. you emptied the drawer full of your clothes he kept for you, took back your makeup wipes and spare toothbrush that was in his bathroom and stuffed it all in the overnight bag you brought with you everytime you stayed the night with him. frustrated tears pool on your waterline as you slide your shoes on and throw your bag over your shoulder, not even paying attention as your phone buzzes in your hand.

you don’t look at your illuminated screen as you walk out the door and straight to your car. you unlock it swiftly and waste no time in sliding into the driver’s seat and backing out of the driveway. you were just lucky that the triplets had all stepped out for a little while, meaning that you didn’t have to face chris and the truth just yet.

there’s no music playing through your car speakers and you still haven’t looked at your phone. the longer you sit in silence with the text message on your mind, the more tears seem to form in your eyes.

when the two of you started your ‘relationship’ chris had mentioned that he wasn’t necessarily looking for a long term thing, and that he was just enjoying his time getting to know you. at first, you were pretty accepting of this due to the fact that you felt the same way but over time, your feelings started to change.

chris was just such a gentle person in every way. he was constantly making sure you felt comfortable and okay around him, never once over stepping a boundary or putting you in an uncomfortable position. he didn’t pressure you to follow him to events or make you go out when you weren’t feeling up to it, always just brushing it off and giving you a kiss as he left, telling you to call if you needed anything.

similarly, you never made him feel like he had to hang around your friends or show you off to any degree, always trying to keep it casual and comfortable for him whenever you got the feeling you were getting too close. his commitment issues had been the topic of conversation before and you had reassured him endlessly that you didn’t expect him to step into the boyfriend role if that wasn’t what he wanted to do. he had appreciated your words but ended up ignoring them anyway as he began to give you the girlfriend treatment without you ever saying a word about it.

chris was the one who initiated a lot of the couple-y stuff. he was the one who wanted to introduce you to his friends and family, and now he was the one going on a podcast and saying how he wasn’t looking for love.

you pull up to your apartment and practically throw the car in park, your movements harsh and frustrated. with heavy eyes and a tear-stained face, you trudge to your apartment almost mindlessly, the sound of you shuffling shoes echoing on the cold ground. immediately upon unlocking and opening your apartment door, you are faced with a hoodie that chris had carelessly thrown onto the back of your couch.

after staring at the article of clothing for what felt like an eternity, your phone began to buzz repeatedly from your back pocket. the messages come one after the other, sending anxious vibrations up your spine.

you reluctantly pull the device out of your jeans and quickly sift through your notifications. one from sophia and four from chris.

soph is telling you, rather than asking, that you’re her plus one for a party tonight. she ends the message with ‘don’t ditch me for chris pls’ and you can’t help but smile bitterly. you quickly shoot her a text back confirming that you most definitely will be there tonight before going into your conversation with chris.

you can’t stop your eyes from rolling dramatically. there was no way he could know what the problem was, and you honestly didn’t expect him to, but you really didn’t have the energy for this right now. there was nothing else that could be said to try to change his mind and you were done trying.

— TABLES TURNED, NOW I’M OUT, AND YOU JUST CALLED LIKE THIRTY TIMES

ALWAYS A FUNNY THING WATCHING THE TOUGH GUY PLEAD, OH, BABY

heavy bass thumped through your chest as sophia’s hands snaked around your waist from behind you. she held you loosly whilst guiding your body with the beat, the two of you being lost in the sweaty bodies and the music.

chris had called you so many times that you’d had to turn your phone off completely. tonight was not about him, and you were not about to fall back into whatever you had with the youngest triplet after what he said.

on one hand you felt stupid for being so petty but on the other, you felt like it was deserved. you had tried your hardest to communicate though your actions that you wanted more with him, that what the two of you had was no longer enough.

you lean back onto soph and smile wide. locked out of heaven’s pre-chorus begins and soph’s grip on your waist tightens as the two of you begin to sing loudly along with the crowd

“cause your sex takes me to paradise, yeah your sex takes me to paradise!”

the two of you raise your solo cups to the ceiling in unison, halle making her way over to join you. she sways her hips along with the two of you and you turn on your heel so that the three of you are facing one another in a small circle. halle’s arms wrap around both you and sophia’s shoulders and she pulls you in along with the music.

your eyes screw shut with glee as you laugh with your friends. adrenaline and dopamine flood your brain and your body, the problems of today being momentarily forgotten the longer you scream bruno mars. you open your eyes to look at sophia, only to see chris making his way through the pool of bodies. his eyes are trained on you with relentless determination, causing you to pause. sophia and halle don’t notice until he’s right up in your space, breaking the safe circle the three of you have created.

his cologne floods your nose as he leans into your ear “we need to talk” he says sternly, his mouth pressed to the shell of your ear.

you shake your head and bring your cup up to your lips, taking a big gulp whilst looking him in the eye. he watches your throat bob as you swallow and looks into your eyes, the determination melting into pleading.

he doesn’t like your answer, and makes sure to let you know by grabbing your wrist and dragging you off the dance floor. whether it’s the alcohol or the fact that you’re just weak for chris, you don’t know, but you allow him to pull you into an empty room off to the side.

chris clicks the door shut and you slide down the wall next to the door, your eyes still trained on your drink

“y/n” he starts “what’s going on? you haven’t answered any of my texts or calls today and none of your stuff is at my place”

“i know” you slur “whoops” you respond nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders

he sighs deeply “whoops? are you kidding me? what’s going on!” his hands run over his face in annoyance at your useless response, clearly not wanting to do this with you right now.

“just let me take you home to sober up and we’ll talk, please”

you can’t help but scoff “i’m not going home chris. i’m having a good time with my friends” you spit at him, raising your cup for emphasis “and i’d rather go home with anyone else at this fucking party, at least then i’d know that they’re just using me for sex”

his jaw goes slack and his eyebrows raise in both surprise and confusion “what the fuck are you talking about”

“i’m talking about you leading me on! the least you could do is be honest with me” your words begin to slur at the end of your sentence “stupid fucking boys” you mumble, your head leaning back against the wall with a thunk.

“you’re drunk” he whispers whilst looking down at his shoes

you look at him down your nose through half-hooded eyes, the liquid courage suddenly increasing “no, i’m over you”

chris’s head snaps up suddenly, his eyes blown wide with hurt evident on his face “you don’t mean that”

“i’m done asking you to want me” you laugh bitterly “especially after you get on a fucking podcast and tell the internet that you’re not looking for love”

everything seems to click for chris in that moment. he crouches down in front of you and sits back on his haunches, his pretty blue eyes finding yours “baby…” he speaks softly to you.

tears begin to form in your eyes and you place your drink down on the floor next to you “no, chris! do you know what that felt like!?” your voice raises “what, did you only treat me like your girlfriend so i’d keep having sex with you? was that the reason you kept me around?”

venom drips from your words as you begin to shout “or was it because you KNEW how i feel? huh, chris? did i boost your ego enough that you felt like you didn’t need me anymore?”

chris’s eyes soften as he looks at you. your makeup is well and truely ruined by now, your mascara now running down your face. he opens his mouth to say something but closes it when he realises he doesn’t know what to say. your own mouth drops open in shock, a sarcastic laugh leaving your lips when you realise that he really wasn’t going to answer you.

you abruptly stand, leaving chris to fall backwards onto his hands. you look down at him with a sneer, disgust and hurt cloaking your normally soft features “so you can go on a stranger’s podcast and run your fucking mouth but you can’t defend yourself to me?”

the semi-dried tear tracks on your face are replaced by fresh ones as he still says nothing, the look of hurt never leaving his baby blue eyes.

scoffing, you pick up your drink and turn on your heel to walk out the door “fuck you christopher. you’re nothing to me”

— I WAS TRYNA MAKE US SOMETHING OUTTA NOTHING

WE WERE NOTHING AT ALL