chandlersfuneral

[chandlersfuneral]

Blue on him holy shit.

[chandlersfuneral]

More scenes where Daryl’s allowed to laugh challenge.

[chandlersfuneral]

This is goodbye

to all the hopes and dreams of any dumb motherfucker who thinks a death threat will keep me from writing the filthiest, fuck nasty Joel Miller smut exactly how I want.

[chandlersfuneral]

decided to make some moodboards of my favorite films ✨️ 6. The Crow (1994), dir. Alex Proyas

[chandlersfuneral]

ohhhhhh you have to be kidding !!?

[chandlersfuneral]

when someone asks what your type is but you don't want to say "40 year old+ men tasked with taking care of a child in the apocalypse" so you just say brunettes...

[chandlersfuneral]

📞 ⌞ heartbreak hotline ⌝ 18+

pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

content: 18+ ONLY PLS. unprotected p in v (wrap it up folks!), reader cries during sex, nipple play, some spanking, very dom! dean

summary: reader gets dumped and ends up calling a “heartbreak hotline” but lets just say… things get interesting…

writer notes: this is my first time writing since i was like,,, 16 so pls be gentle plus i haven’t written male/female pairings before (im a lesbian LMAO i like writing gay shit) just testing the waters with smut writing… may or may not continue lol. got the idea of writing this bc of a song i discovered: heartbreak hotline by volia

word count:

“they say the way to get over someone is to get under, under, under me”

you find yourself in shambles. you didn’t know how to even process what had happened between you two. everything was fine; or at least you thought. tears are pouring and you can’t help but just stay frozen in place in your bed.

it’s been hours. you finally decided to pull out your phone and scroll through.

that’s when you stop right on an advertisement. it was an ad about something called a “heartbreak hotline”? part of you thinks it’s hilarious; an ad in this day and age about a hotline? do people even do things like this? is this some kind of scammer thing? you kinda giggle at the thought but the other part of you is curious.

you know what? fuck it. curiosity gets the best of you and you end up dialing the number. the phone hums a couple times until you hear a male voice break through.

“heartbreak hotline, how can i help you?”

you forgot to breathe for a second. this voice sounds so familiar.

“hello?” he calls out.

“uh- hello..?”

you can’t believe what could possibly be happening right now. a few years back you used to work some cases with a sam and dean winchester. things got a little hectic back home and you were needed so you had to leave. and dean… well… you may have had some feelings for him but you didn’t want to get into anything on a job. plus, you were already sort of involved with him at the time. but now, you’re single, and on the phone with the dean winchester.

“hmm.. i know that voice anywhere. this must mean you need some support, right? that jackass do anything?”

you told him everything. and he listened. like really listened. after the debriefing, things started to shift. “well, honey, the best thing you can do is get under someone else…” he trails off. you can feel yourself getting wet. his voice is so smooth and sultry. “maybe you could get under me. i could be of assistance, unless that’s not your speed darlin”

the call had ended after awhile and you hear a knock at your door.

as soon as you open it, dean slams his lips onto yours. it was rough, his tongue slightly making his way in your mouth. he pulls at your waist and pulls away from the kiss. “you sure about this, darlin?” you nod instantly. your brain feels a little scrambled. just hours ago you were crying over being dumped.

dean smirks, and picks you up and you gasp out of surprise as he walks you both to your bedroom and lays you down. his hands immediately roam your body. “don’t fucking need this, take it off.” and you did. you obeyed. chest bare to him. “fuck..” he takes his tongue and swirls it around your already hard nipple. he takes his time with them, tasting. feeling. you can’t help the moans spilling out of you. your pussy is aching and he’s just getting started with you.

“bet he doesn’t do this with you. worship you. takes time to really touch and taste you…” he peppers kisses all over your stomach still giving attention to your sensitive nipples — even giving them a slight pinch here and there that makes you shiver.

he makes his way down, stopping at your panties. “fuck, you’re soaked” he says as he rubs his fingers on your very obvious wet spot. you whine.

“d-dean.. please”

he cocks his head, “what’s that? please what? use your words, pretty girl.” he rubs you again.

“touch me. now.” he doesn’t waste any time as he pulls off your panties with ease and dips his fingers through your folds. he groans, feeling the wetness that he caused. “that’s how a pussy should be, nice and wet. bet he didn’t turn you this much. you’re already so pathetic, baby” he dips a finger inside and you’re already in a daze. then another. “oh, fuck-"

his fingers curl inside you and you feel like you could already cum right there and now. he hits your gummy spot just right it’s driving you insane. if that’s just his fingers then you can’t even imagine how his cock feels. the thought makes your walls clench. then, he pulls out, you whine, feeling the emptiness. but then he’s taking off his clothes making his way to his belt.

he’s completely bare to you. his cock sprang free, glistened with pre cum and so hard — hard for you. fuck. fuck. fuck. you felt hypnotized.

he pushes your thighs open more, leaving kisses. “now, darlin, you think you can take me? want this cock buried inside you?” you nod again, but that wasn’t enough. “i need you to say it. beg for this cock.”

“p-please, dean. i need your cock in me, now.. please.” and just like that he slams into you. not thinking twice about him being inside you raw. you wanted this so badly. you wanted him even then. you felt dirty.. you were involved with your ex and every time he fucked you, you wished it was dean.

every stroke sent your body insane. your face stinging from the tears running down. his thrusts pick up speed but then he flips you. “ass up, princess.” skin slapping fills up the room as well as your moans. “you’re taking me so well, baby. when i’m done with you, you won’t even remember who that fucker was.” and that sent you close to the edge. “dean- fuck- i’m getting close”

then, he slaps your ass. you whimper, his hand leaving a light pink mark on you. “you better cum when i say it.” he says as he’s literally drilling in you harder, your hands grip the sheets. he slaps you again; but harder and this time, your ass turns a darker red. the sting hurts but feels like heaven. and you couldn’t get enough. he gathers your hair in a ponytail and pulls as his thrusts get messier.

“i’m gonna-"

“cum on my cock for me, princess” and you did. dean not long after, his cum buried inside you but he keeps driving into you. his fingers rubbing circles on your clit and you can feel your thighs shaking. “not yet. i want you ruined.” your walls clenched around his length, and again, you release.

“you’re mine now.”

[chandlersfuneral]

it's truly a crime that i'm not all fucked-out and overstimmed, being passed back and forth between the winchester brothers.

[chandlersfuneral]

AT THE SAME DAMN TIME

[chandlersfuneral]

virtual angel ₊˚⊹♡

[chandlersfuneral]

daryl doesn’t like to talk during sex. it makes him feel awkward. he’s all grunts and moans as he likes to put all his focus in touching you. in feeling your skin beneath his hands. the way you’re so soft compared to his calloused and worn palms. the way you curve and arch against him as he envelopes you in his arms. he buries his head in the crook of your neck and breathes in your scent. he loves being close with you. loves finally having someone he can be close with. and he’s wrecked the second he presses inside you. his breaths shaky and low, growing deeper and deeper as he too gets deeper and deeper ᡣ𐭩

[chandlersfuneral]

Plz plz plz write subby inexperienced Daryl I beg I love your writing

Perfect Boy

sub!daryl x fem!reader

warnings: smut, sub daryl, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, begging, creampie, soft dom!reader, daryl has no game (aka canon daryl)

this is my first time ever writing sub daryl…

⸻

Daryl had always been good with his hands.

The way he handled his crossbow, cleaned and carved what he hunted, fixed broken fences and built shelter—it was all second nature to him. But when it came to this, to sex, to intimacy.. he was unsure.

He didn’t say it like he was ashamed. Not really. Just nervous. Quiet. One night, curled up in bed with his head on your chest and your fingers lazily combing through his hair, he said it without meeting your eyes.

“Ain’t ever, y’know… done nothin’ like this.”

You smiled, soft and warm, like you already loved the way his voice dropped at the end, like you were already imagining teaching him every little thing.

“That’s okay baby,” you murmured, brushing your thumb along his cheek. “I’ll teach you. You’ll be so good at it. Promise.”

He stayed quiet, but you felt him bury his face deeper into your chest, heard the way his breath hitched just slightly, like he wanted that, like he needed it.

And tonight, you were going to give it to him.

He was already a mess before his mouth even touched you.

Kneeling on the floor in front of the bed, between your parted legs, Daryl’s hands gripped your thighs like he wasn’t sure what to do with them. His face was flushed deep pink, his breath shallow, pupils blown wide as he stared at your pussy like he’d discovered something sacred.

“You okay baby?” you asked gently, reaching down to brush the hair from his face. Your tone was calm, loving—soothing the nerves jumping beneath his skin.

He nodded quickly, throat bobbing. “Y-yeah. Jus’ don’t wanna… mess it up or nothin’.”

You leaned forward, cupping his face in your hands. “You won’t. I’m right here. I’ll guide you through every second, okay?”

That made something in him crack a little. He nodded again, slower this time, leaning into your touch.

You leaned back against the pillows, spreading your legs wider, revealing the soaked folds of your pussy, and his breath caught in his throat.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, almost reverent.

You grinned softly. “C’mere baby.”

He leaned in like he was drawn by gravity, placing one unsure hand on your thigh, the other on your hip. His first kiss to your cunt was soft, nervous. Like he was afraid he’d do it wrong.

“That’s it,” you said sweetly, voice low and patient. “Start slow. Just like you’d kiss me.”

He followed your lead, kissing up your folds, his breath warm, his lips hesitant. A few more kisses and he darted his tongue out, soft and cautious, tasting you for the first time.

You sighed, letting your hand settle in his hair. “Mmm. That’s my good boy.”

And that’s when you heard it.

A quiet, needy whimper from his throat.

Like the praise hit him harder than anything else could.

He moaned again, deeper this time, tongue growing more desperate. It didn’t take long for him to lose control. He licked and sucked you with no rhythm, no technique—just pure need. Sloppy, wet, messy. He was starving.

His nose nudged your clit again and again, his tongue dipping everywhere it could reach. You looked down and saw his eyes closed tight, brows scrunched like he was overwhelmed. He was grinding into the mattress already, his hips rutting subtly, trying to find friction.

“Daryl,” you gasped, both from pleasure and sheer awe. “Baby—slow down. You’re gonna burn yourself out.”

He moaned against you again and didn’t stop. You had to gently tug his hair to get him to look up. His face was flushed and soaked, his lips red and glossy, eyes wide with need.

“I—I’m sorry,” he panted, chest heaving. “I don’t—fuck, you taste so good I can’t stop—”

You cupped his cheek. “You’re doing amazing baby. You just gotta slow down. Let me help you, okay?”

He nodded, breathless, watching your mouth like he’d do anything you said.

You guided him back down, whispering, “Just focus right here. Little licks, nice and slow… there you go.”

He followed your every word, and soon he was flicking his tongue right where you needed it, pressing soft, wet kisses to your clit. And when you praised him again—“Just like that, Daryl. You’re makin’ me feel so good baby” he moaned into your pussy, grinding the bed again, harder now.

You noticed his hands trembling slightly. One had fisted in the sheets beside him but the other had slid under him, moving between his own legs.

You sat up slightly, watching. “You touchin’ yourself baby?”

He froze. “N-no—yes—I mean, kinda—fuck, I just—feels too good, I needed somethin’—”

Your heart melted.

“Oh my sweet boy,” you whispered, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “You need somethin’ in your mouth, don’t you? You get all worked up when you don’t have anything to suck on.”

He whimpered at that, like it hit him.

You brought your fingers to his lips, and he sucked them in immediately, moaning like he was starving. You shivered as you felt his tongue swirl around them.

“That’s it,” you cooed. “My good boy. Just needed somethin’ to keep that pretty mouth busy, huh?”

He nodded, still sucking your fingers like it soothed him. You started grinding against his mouth again, guiding him with little praises, each one making his breath stutter.

“You’re makin’ me come baby,” you gasped. “You’re gonna make me come, you’ve never even done this before. That’s how good you are.”

He let out a desperate moan as you came, thighs trembling, hands gripping his hair tight as your climax rolled through you.

But he didn’t stop.

Didn’t even think about it.

He kept licking, whimpering into you, needy and soft and so desperate.

“Sensitive—baby, wait—” you gasped.

He pulled back reluctantly, panting, face soaked and shining.

“Please,” he begged. “Let me come. I—fuck, I need it—please inside—I wanna be inside you.”

You kissed him, deep and slow, tasting yourself on his tongue. “You gotta ask nicely baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Wanna come in you,” he gasped, eyes wide, trembling. “Wanna fill you up. Please—please—lemme come inside, I need to, I need—”

You straddled his lap and guided him in, slow and deep, and he cried out, clutching your hips like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

You rode him slowly, his name falling from your lips, his eyes locked on your face like you were holy.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he moaned. “So fuckin’ good. Love you, I love you—”

“I love you.” you whispered, cupping his face as he shuddered beneath you, coming deep inside you with broken moans and sweet little whimpers.

After, you held him against your chest, running your fingers through his hair, humming something soft against his temple. He was warm and quiet, breath still shaky, arms wrapped tight around your waist like he couldn’t bear the thought of letting go.

And when he looked up at you, all soft lashes and pink cheeks, he asked,

“Did I do okay?”

You smiled down at him, heart overflowing.

“You were perfect baby. My perfect boy.”

⸻

[chandlersfuneral]

at the same damn time ..

[chandlersfuneral]

okay so i’ve had an idea like this for a WHILE but i’m just now doing something about it

reader is younger, mid-late 20s maybe, and is showing daryl the music she likes after the two of them found a ton of cds on a run. basically just reader showing daryl emo music (panic!, fob, mcr, etc) and him not really getting it

essentially just pure fluff. can be an established relationship or them pining after each other idrc that part doesn’t matter

camisado

daryl dixon x femme reader

tags: fluff, music, age gap, reader is 23 and daryl is in his late 30s, mutual pining, light teasing, use of kiddo, kissing.

a/n: this request is so amazing and IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG. i even have a daryl playlist but it is essentially just dad rock.

summary: just the two of you are on a run, you find a box full of old cds and vinyl's of some of your favorite music.

timeline unspecified

no use of y/n

daryl playlist, afysco album, & afysco live version

"daryl, lia. i need yall to take on this run f'me. just the usual, see what you can get." rick mumbled, not making eye contact with you or the scraggily haired man standing feet away from you.

the archer too didn't pay attention to rick or you, he just stood there twiddling his pocket knife between his fingers.

you felt the urge to protest against rick's commands. the only run you've been on with daryl was in a large group a few months ago. the both of you exchange looks and words but never full on conversations. never truly alone.

but you didn't protest because daryl had already had a grasp on your hand, guiding you to one of the broken-down cars. the sensation of daryl's callous hands grabbing hold of yours sprang all the way up to the tip of your shoulder.

this was an extremely forward move, though you didn't read too much into it. maybe he just thought you'd nag him or something. being a chick in all.

daryl hopped up into the front seat without a second thought. ready for business. this is an easy run, in and out. "you ready, kiddo?" daryl had his eyes stuck on the truck, sliding the key into the ignition with ease.

this was the closest you've been to daryl. you've had a crush on him for a while. you felt this just wasn't the time to be making moves by acting on a crush.

you nodded once in response. words just wouldn't leave your mouth right now. the archer made you nervous. the way he spoke, so rough and aggressive. how his muscles made his shirts inches away from busting at the seams.

the truck ride to town was boring. uneventful. no words exchanged. just glances at each other when the other wasn't looking. you weren't sure if daryl could see you looking at him through his peripheral vision. however, for you, you could feel his eyes looking at you, even though you couldn't tell for sure.

"oh my god!" you shouted. the scream you let out was heard from the other side of the house. sounds of daryl's boots came crashing down the stairs to where you sat, crisscrossed in the living room of the abandoned home.

he stood there watching you, perplexed. "why the hell are you screamin?"

"these are all cd's and vinyls of music i like. i haven't listened to this shit in ages!" your face was just beaming with joy. the feeling of familiarity made your body feel warm just by looking at them. the colors on the 'a fever you can't sweat out' album seemed much brighter in your eyes, compared to all the dark things in the world nowadays.

"you scared the hell outta me, lia." daryl rubbed his face with both of his hands. the man genuinely thought there was something wrong. he was worried about you. he truly cared about you.

you ignored his worries and continued looking through the box of physical media. "so what are we lookin at?" daryl swept the dangling stray hair behind your ear to see your face.

this gesture caused you to freeze. the archer was just so forward with his movements. it was like he didn't care how you reacted. more like he knew you were okay with him touching you.

you were more than okay with him touching you. every single time he made a move on you, your heartbeat stopped, and you felt immense heat in your ears.

you felt butterflies. the hots, for daryl dixon.

"it's just music i used to listen to before everything went to shit." you scoffed. you had your moment, but it was time to get back to the task at hand.

daryl grabbed your wrist while you were putting the media away. he didn't want you to stop. the archer wanted to hear what you had to say regarding yourself and the world before.

"no, kid. don' put it away. i wanna see it," this was the first time you and daryl made serious eye contact.

the biggest smile was brought on your face. daryl's profound interest in the things you liked made your face flush bright pink. you were amazed at the fact that someone had an interest in what you enjoyed. what you had to say.

you placed the beat-up vinyl in his hands. daryl just held it, his eyes darting all over the picture on the cover. the maroon background with the colorful and black and white women was beautiful even to the rugged man.

the bizarre art on the cover however did perplex him. “so like.. what is it?” he queried, finally making eye contact with you again.

“it’s the first album of a band called panic! at the disco. it’s called ‘a fever you can’t sweat out.’ it came out in 2005.” you started rambling off about the band, talking a tad too fast.

daryl once against scanned the album, turning it over to look at the song list on the back. a giggle had escaped his lips once he read some of the absurdly long song titles.

“london beckoned songs about money written by machines? what is this shit?” daryl did his best to choke out the title without slipping over his words too much.

you too, giggled with him, but at his ignorance within the song titles.

your hand grasped onto the tattered album and snatched it back, looking over the song list too. “i love that song! these songs have meaning, you know?”

“so what kinda music is it?” daryl pushed on with more questions, wanting to hear more.

“it’s… a lot. alternative.. pop punk.. baroque pop.”

the archer gave you a look of complete shock. he didn’t understand the words coming out of your mouth.

“baroque pop. a fusion genre between pop and classical music.” you huffed.

his blank, dumbfounded stare just continued. daryl just did not get it.

“well, do you wanna listen? i saw a record player upstairs.” daryl inquired, standing up on his feet and extending a hand to help you get on yours.

in the past, no one cared to hear about your music taste. it was just an insignificant thing your brief past partners didn’t really care about.

carefully, you placed the b-side record on the vintage record player. it was dusty and had spider webs crawling all over it, but it was still beautiful. one of the only things that wasn’t taken.

camisado came through the speakers beautifully. brendon's familiar voice sent shivers all the way through your body. the familiarity made you shiver. suddenly, it felt like you were in your old teenage bedroom. before anything bad had ever happened to you. before the new world took over your life.

daryl watched you while you were deep in thought. the music smothered your mind, and it was all you could think about. he, however, couldn't stop thinking about how beautiful you looked. knees pressed to your chest, hair in your face once again, eyes clasped shut.

once the song ended, daryl broke the silence, "it's nice, a good tune. i guess i just don't get it." his voice broke you out of your trance, and you replied with a simple "it's okay."

the next song that played was london beckoned songs about money written by machines. the same song that baffled daryl.

the beautiful smile that sprawled across your lips immediately caught your crush's eyes. "what are you cheesin' about?" daryl couldn't help but let out a little chuckle at your smile.

"this is the song you were just so confused by."

the archer leaned back against an empty bookcase and just listened. he listened closely. closely to the piano at the beginning of the song, then drums, guitar, and lastly the lyrics.

daryl wouldn't be caught dead listening to this kind of music. it just wasn't his style, but he'd do anything for you. anything to see that contagious smile on your face.

"just for the record the weather today is slightly sarcastic with a good chance of a, indifference and b, disinterest in what the critics say."

the lyrics, they made no sense to him. the weather? sarcasm? a? b? he thought the singer was speaking nonsense. although, he couldn't argue that the instrumentals were very intriguing.

you were so entranced by the music that you, once again, were in the same position you were before. eyes closed and knees to your chest.

daryl found this as a perfect opportunity to make his move. slowly, he crawled over to you and planted a long, loving kiss on your lips.

at first you jumped a bit, you had no idea what was happening. but once you smelled the musky scent of your love interest, you melted into the kiss, putting your hands in his dusty brown locks.

heat was radiating off the both of you. his hands on your waist, your hands still tangled in his hair, and your tongues intertwined.

the kiss felt like hours but had only been forty seconds when daryl pulled away. he rested his forehead on yours, “we gotta get outta here.”

[chandlersfuneral]

at the same damn time ..

[chandlersfuneral]

Just thinking about cowboy!sam and the way his favorite position is cowgirl-because of course it is.

He knows he shouldn't be sprawled out in the hayloft in the middle of the afternoon, work gloves discarded, denim shoved down just enough to free his cock while you ride him slow and filthy..but the way you move-hips rolling them and hitting that spot that makes him tremble, breath hitching every time he fills you just right--makes a man forget his own name, let alone the chores waiting downstairs. His hat's tilted back, sweat-damp hair clinging to his forehead as he gazes up at you through heavy-lidded eyes. The sunlight cuts through the barn's slats, painting gold across your skin,and god, he could drown in the sight of you.

"Fuck," he rasps, voice rough as gravel. His hands slide up your thighs, calloused thumbs digging into the softness of your hips, guiding you just the way he likes. "Look at you..s'pretty like this."

You clench around him, and his head thuds back against the saddle blanket with a groan. But he won't look away-won't let you miss the way his pupils blow wide, the way his lips part on every ragged breath.

"You look so damn good, sweetheart. C'mon, keep ridin' me just like that." he rasps, voice rough with want. His lips part, breath coming in ragged pulls as his hands grip your hips, guiding you, urging you on,

"C'mon, just like that..atta girl."

And his eyes-God, his eyes never leave yours, like he's memorizing every second of this. Like he'd rather die than look away.

@regretdean ﹒⌗﹒🦇 ˚₊‧

[chandlersfuneral]

CARL GRIMES HEADCANONS (pt.5)

(argument hcs…does that make sense?)

tags: angst to fluff, arguments

masterlist here!

read ghost in the woods here!

✦ so a lot of your arguments start off as playful scenarios, for example you joke around about going on a dangerous run you KNOW is super high risk and he sort of takes it too seriously. things like that or you joke about something you know he’s overprotective of just in general and it just rubs him the wrong way and he HAS to show that he’s serious about it at all means possible. he needs you to know it’s not a joke and to take it seriously.

✦ unfortunately he’s not one to go about it in a very lighthearted way as he feels some sort of urgency to make sure you stay alive. hell offend you in some sort of way saying something along the lines of “you’re not going unless i’m there to protect you.” this to you BASICALLY means “you’re not able to handle that on your own. that’s not how he means it in any way, shape, or form, but you take it that way because of the way he words it to you.

✦ this fight probably would occur somewhere special or comfortable so possibly one of your two bedrooms or even a spot you have outside. whichever it is, the argument officially is declared an argument once you exit the premises 😭 you’re too stubborn and pissed to stay there so you get up and leave. On your way out he’ll follow you, telling you “cmon don’t be like that, i’m just trying to keep you safe.”

✦ that wouldn’t necessarily help, like i said you’re too stubborn so you’d counteract his words with some other excuse explaining how hes basically patronizing you. he’d give up and let you go. he’d remain in his spot for a while, whether it be his bed or against the tree trunk where you guys usually have your conversations.

✦ he would try and figure out where exactly it is he went wrong with the whole thing but he’s so set in his way of thinking that he feels like you’re being dramatic about it. he kinda brushes it off at first and hopes you’ll not care by dinner time. that being said, it took him by surprise that when you both decided to craft your salads together at the island of the kitchen and he chooses to speak to you, you scoffed in his face and walked away to sit at the table.

✦ it sort of upset him and he realized soon after that he’d not want to push it anymore until he figured out what was wrong. the only way he knew how to understand you was with someone else’s help to figure out your perspective. so he went to michonne. he explained the joke you made and his approach on fighting that joke and she sort of cringed.

✦ “to her, it seems like you’re diminishing all that she’s worked for. all the fighting, all the pain. it seems dramatic but you’re making her feel like you don’t have trust that she’s a survivor. you underestimate her strength. that hurts.” she tells him. it all slowly begins to make sense. that’s not how he wanted it to come across at all.

✦ he did know, however, that you’d continue to avoid him at all costs. you tend to avoid things when you’re angry, unless you’re coerced. he knew he had to find a way for you to give him a chance at talking. he also wanted to make it up to you for hurting you.

✦ with all that in mind he went out and asked around alexandria for specific comics and snacks that he knew you liked. he even asked to borrow a DVD of your favorite movie from an old couple that hoarded them in their house. he offered to do whatever house tasks they needed for a day as a trade off. he hoped and prayed this would help get you to listen to what he had to say. he loved you and he needed to reassure you of that.

✦ so, he’d come up to you whenever he got the chance. he knows your schedule, so he just found the best opportunity. he was at your doorstep when you arrived home from your shift on perimeter watch. he had your snacks in hand, along with a comic and the dvd. the first words he says were, “please just listen.” and so you do. “i’m sorry about all this love. really. i never should’ve doubted you when you talked about going on the run, i know you’re capable of handling yourself. regardless of that, i still care about you so much and i just need the extra security that you’re going to be okay.”

✦ he would go on and on about how great of a fighter you are and how much he adores you. he’d even go into all the other things he loves about you like your personality and your looks. he’d explain that he loves you too much to lose you and he never had any ill intentions on the way he worded his worry for you. he never wants to be too controlling.

✦ his cute face and gesture along with his sweet words worked so easily on you. not to mention how quiet and shy his voice got whenever he was being sweet. so you’d invite him inside and slip on some nicer clothes to enjoy the movie and snacks in. you’d cuddle up on the couch and open the snacks, thanking him and kissing on his face all sweetly.

✦ he’d enjoy it thoroughly, returning the sweet kisses all over your cheeks and eyes while pulling you closer by your waist. you two would swiftly fall asleep not too long after that.

a/n: how long has it been… anyway by popular demand (3 ppl asked me where i was) i wrote something!!! enjoy MWAH LOVE U BYE!!! also if it’s buns its cuz i lowkey didn’t proofread it….

taglist: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow @sstar-ggirl

(do yall still wanna be on my tag list or naw 😩 lmk no hard feelings!)